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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 5 months ago

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He’s Not A Machine!

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: when dean collapses from exhaustion, it takes everything in you not to beat the shit outta john

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.0k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, john being a terrible father, john being an asshole in general but what else is new

pairing note: reader washes/brushes her hair

author’s note: hiiii me again after many moons of zero contact with this lovely website. sorry for taking so long, hopefully i’ll stay a while this time lol.

It’d been nearly four weeks of back-to-back hunts. This was the seventh motel you and the two Winchesters had been at this month and you were almost ready to call it a night.

“I’m gonna wash this wraith stench off of me,” you told Dean. You then added quietly so John—who was sitting at the table and cleaning his guns—wouldn’t hear; “Would you like to join me, handsome?”

“More than anything,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed you. John coughed loudly, and you weren’t sure if it was just a perfectly timed accident or a purposeful guilt trip. It was most likely the latter. “But… I think it’s better if I don’t, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly with a small nod; “Next time, then,” you assured him. You looked up into his eyes and noticed the tiredness laced with the usual burden he carried. He blinked unusually slowly as if he was trying his damndest to stay awake, and you furrowed your brows. “How about you head to bed, you can shower after you get some sleep.”

“It’s alright, I’m not that tired,” he said.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so that John wouldn’t hear.

John didn’t like you. He didn’t really trust your intentions with his son, and he thought you were just a distraction that would end up getting Dean killed if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t like how easily Dean would get ‘all giggly’ when he was near you, and he didn’t like that his son kept his guard down when he was with you.

He didn’t like the matching rings you wore, or that you too often referred to the other as husband or wife when a stranger would ask. You weren’t married, you were his fucking girlfriend and John fully believed you wouldn’t still be together by the time Sam finished his first four years at Stanford.

“I’m fine,” he replied, matching your quiet tone. “I’ll shower right after you so don’t use up all the hot water, okay?” There was a teasing smirk on his face which made your worries subside temporarily.

“I promise to leave you some,” you said before you kissed him once more.

“Dean are you okay?” you asked, seeing the far-off look in his eyes when you left the bathroom.

“Yeah, I uh…” He rubbed his eyes as he tried to again focus on your face. He looked over at his dad, who raised a brow at his eldest son. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

You followed his line of sight and pursed your lips when you saw John.

“Dean says he’s fine, drop it Y/n,” he told you.

Against your better judgment, you decided not to ask Dean again. With your hair still wet from the shower, you took the brush from your bag and started fixing it.

“Aren’t you gonna shower, babe?” you asked Dean, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He started to kick off his shoes when he tripped and fell straight to the floor, his cheek now pressed against the carpet.

“Dean!?” you exclaimed and hurried over to him. You fell to your knees and took him into your arms, shaking him gently in hopes he’d just wake up. “Dean? Dean, honey, please? J-John he’s not waking up!” You pressed your lips to his temple; “C’mon, Dean!”

John had left his spot on the couch and was now hovering over you, as you looked up at him desperately.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yeah,” you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. John helped you lay Dean down so he could check his breathing.

“He seems fine,” John deduced. “Is there a wound we missed or something?”

“W-We need to call an ambulance,” you said and rushed to grab your phone off the nightstand.

“Y/n, Dean wouldn’t want us to call the cops,” John replied. He seemed a little too calm for your liking, so you weren’t about to let him call the shots regarding Dean’s wellbeing.

“I don’t care, we’re getting him to the fucking hospital,” you said as you dialed and made your way back to Dean. “Now hide your goddamn guns before the paramedics get here—I need an ambulance at the Rosebud Motel room 302, my husband just collapsed unexpectedly.” You ignored the look John gave you when you called Dean that. The operator asked questions and you answered each one; “Yes, he’s breathing… No, no bleeding… He’s twenty-five… Uhm, I’m not sure…” You pulled the phone from your ear; “Has he had anything to drink yet tonight?”

John was putting away the guns and paused to think before he shrugged; “I dunno, I wasn’t watching.”

Your eyes widened and your teeth clenched, the fucking audacity. Looking at the table you saw three opened beers so you made an educated guess when you answered the 9-1-1 operator.

“He might’ve had a beer or two, but he’s not a lightweight, he’d never pass out after two beers… Yes, his dad is in the room with me… Yes, I can stay on the line.” You took in a shaky breath as you brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Just stay calm, ma’am, help is on the way.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept his hand pressed to your lips. “Th-This isn’t like him, he’s–he’s always okay.”

You bounced your leg anxiously as you sat next to John in the waiting room. As you absentmindedly played with the ring on your right ring finger, you couldn’t help but think of the time when Dean had told you how much you truly meant to him almost three years ago.

* flashback *

“I got you a present.” His smile was adorable as he sat next to you on the couch. He saw your face light up and felt the need to downplay the gift; “It’s nothing much, don’t get too excited.”

“Dean, you could give me a dirty sock and I’d love it,” you teased, placing a quick kiss on his pink lips.

“Well… this is like one teer above ‘dirty sock’, I think.” He smirked and handed you the small velvet box.

You opened it and your jaw fell open; “Oh my god, Dean!”

“I know how much you like mine,” he said quietly.

“I do like yous,” you took his right hand in yours and kissed the ring on his finger, “I love yours, Dean.”

“Well, this one is exactly like mine.” He smiled. “Except it’s in your size, obviously, so we can… you know… match.” You took the ring out of the box and admired it for a moment. You were about to put it on but he stopped you; “May I do the honors, sweetheart?” he asked. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you nodded and he took it from you. He slipped the ring onto your right ring finger before he kissed your hand.

“I mean this in the most genuine way possible; this is by far the best gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dean! Ever!”

A sheepish blush was forming on his cheeks as he leaned over and kissed your lips; “I love you so much.” He pulled away so he could look at you; “And, I want you to know this isn’t a regular gift.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile growing.

“Yeah,” he replied and kissed you again. When he pulled away again he chickened out a little and didn’t say what he was going to. “You’re twenty-one, which means you can now legally drink in all fifty states.” He stood up, pulling on your hand gently so you would follow him to the kitchen. He took two beers out of the fridge and put them on the table. He used the ring on his finger to easily open one then handed the other to you. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

It took you a few tries but you managed to open the beer using the ring he just gave you; “Okay, now that’s awesome!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Dean said and you clinked your beers together before you both started drinking them. As he brought the bottle down from his lips, he watched as you kept drinking and smiled to himself. He suddenly felt the courage he felt when he bought the ring and decided to tell you his thoughts; “You know you’re the only girl for me, right?” You nodded with a smile. “I don’t just mean ‘for now’ I mean like forever. That’s the real meaning behind the ring, I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

You couldn’t help the happy tears beginning to sting your eyes as you looked up at him; “Forever?”

“Forever.”

* end of flashback *

You were shaken back to cruel reality by the sound of John’s voice beside you; “What’s taking them so long? We’ve gotta get back on the fuckin’ road.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you scoffed and looked at him. “Dean might be in serious trouble, and you’re thinking about the next hunt!?”

“Dean’s gonna be fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“We don’t know that,” you replied. You again started fiddling with the ring Dean had given to you.

“You know that ring doesn’t make you two husband and wife,” John commented.

You stood up abruptly, not wanting to say what was running through your head; Yeah, and Dean being so fucking perfect doesn’t make you a good father.

“Dean Smith’s next of kin?” the doctor asked.

“I’m his wife, this is his dad,” you said. “H-How is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied. “He has a very minor concussion from when his head hit the floor, but he just needs some rest.”

“What happened?” John asked.

“He fainted from over-exhaustion, he’s gonna be okay.”

“Over-exhaustion?” You furrowed your brows, placing a hand over your chest. “B-But he’s been eating fine? A-And sleeping as much as me, I think?”

“Actually,” John interrupted, “he’s been helping me with research at night, he doesn’t sleep as much as you.”

Never in your life had you wanted to knee John Winchester in the balls as badly as you wanted to at that moment.

“How many hours a night are you sleeping, hun?” the doctor asked you.

“Like three to five… every other night,” you admitted. “And that’s always been enough! If it wasn’t, Dean could’ve just taken a nap he didn’t have to—fuck.”

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“He’s still asleep but yes, you can go and see him,” she replied.

On the way to Dean’s room, you kept wondering how this all happened—how did Dean get so fucking tied he collapsed!? If he was staying up at night, why didn’t he just sleep in the car? You would’ve happily driven Baby, and it’s not like you hadn’t done that before—Dean’s love language was sharing that fucking car.

“This hasn’t ever happened before, right?” you asked John.

“Never,” he replied. “Guess Dean’s just not as strong as he used to be.”

��Excuse me?” you seethed and stopped in your tracks, pulling John to a halt as well. “Dean is a fucking hero but he is not a machine, he’s a fucking human being who’s been treated like a soldier since he was six-fucking-years-old!”

“If you wanna say something, fucking say it!” John exclaimed.

“Oh, I am saying it! How fucking dare you work him so hard that he lands in the fucking emergency room!”

“We all know in this line of work, we have to do what we have to do!”

You slapped him hard across the face and your eyes widened when you realized what you did.

“Dean is your son,” you said, quickly changing your facial expression back into one of pure rage. “He is your fucking child and you’ve been treating him like shit for far too long. He deserves better, he doesn’t deserve to be so fucking exhausted that he collapses.”

You walked away and into Dean’s room. Seeing him lying in the hospital bed made your heart break as tears welled in your eyes.

“Oh god,” you mumbled. “Dean.” You quickly pulled up a chair so you could sit next to his bed and patiently wait for him to wake up. John did the same, though he seemed annoyed by the fact Dean was still asleep.

You weren’t sure how long had passed before John got fed up; “Can you press the button for the nurse so we can ask when he’s supposed to wake up?”

“I think we should just let him sleep, don’t you?” you whispered, not knowing if Dean had been sedated or if he was just resting like normal.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I told you to call the damn nurse,” he said, raising his voice which caused Dean to stir awake.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said groggily, his eyes half-hooded as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He then dropped your hand and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “This isn’t the motel,” he realized. He noticed John sitting at the other side of the bed and he sat up a little, trying to somewhat compose himself. “Wh-What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in,” John said. “Y/n, why don’t you go grab us some coffee so I can talk with my son?”

All your instincts told you not to leave the two Winchesters alone but what choice did you have? You didn’t want to start another fight with John, you were tired too, and you didn’t want Dean worrying.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You took the time to bend down and place a loving kiss on Dean’s forehead, causing him to smile. “No coffee for you though, you need more sleep,” you told him before you left the room.

About ten minutes later you walked back in and the sight practically made your eyes bulge out of your skull as your jaw flew open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked and placed the two cups to the side.

“Dad said there’s a hunt,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “I can sleep in the car or something, let’s go.” He started to stand up so you pushed him back down.

“How fucking dare you!” you exclaimed at John, who stood on the other side of the bed. “How dare you tell him to suit up right now! He is staying here in this hospital, and he is getting some goddamn sleep!”

“That is not your decision,” John replied. “If Dean says he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

“You realize those are the exact words you said to me before your son collapsed, right?” you scoffed. “Dean lay back down now,” you told him as you began taking his boots off. “You are staying here for the night, you understand me?”

“Don’t you boss him around!” John exclaimed. “Dean and I are leaving here now.”

“You can leave if you want to, but Dean is staying put!” you replied, matching his tone.

“No, he is not!” John yelled.

You’d never fought with John like this, usually yelling and getting yelled at made your eyes tear up in the most inconvenient way. But this? Dean’s health? You were not about to back down. Not one single tear dared to appear in your eyes as you looked at John with such anger you wanted to slap him across the face… again.

“Why don’t we get a third opinion?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Dean, do you wanna sit here like a pussy or do you wanna go save some fucking lives?” John turned to look at him.

“Don’t answer that,” you said quickly. “I meant, let’s call the nurse and see what they have to say about it.”

Before John could protest, you walked over and pressed the button. It took half a minute—during which you and John stared daggers at each other—but soon the nurse walked in.

“How is everyone?” she asked, noticing the tension in the room.

“Do you think this young man here can leave yet? He’s doing fine and wants to go home,” John said.

“Let me check his chart,” she replied before doing so. “I would have to no, he should definitely stay here and get some much-needed rest.”

“Is there a doctor—” John started but you stopped him.

“Goddamn it John!” you scoffed. “He is not leaving!”

“You are not his fucking family!” John shouted, much louder than before. “I am! You aren’t his wife, you aren’t his sister, you aren’t his fucking mother—you are just his current girlfriend, and believe me that’ll fucking change in a heartbeat. You are not in charge of what Dean does, you are not family.” There was a short pause as your eyes brimmed with tears yet you refused to let them fall. John sighed and continued; “I am Dean’s father, I know what’s best for him, and I say he’s packing his things and getting the hell outta here.”

The nurse looked absolutely shocked, her jaw hanging open. The look John gave her made her hurry out of the room.

“Dad,” Dean said, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Dad, you can yell at me all you want, I’m your kid but…” He exhaled shakily as John turned to look at him with a frustrated look. “But you can’t talk to her like that, you just can’t. You might not think of her as family but that’s on you, she is a part of my family, Dad. And yeah, we might not be legally married or whatever but she’s not just my current girlfriend? She basically is my wife, we’re not just… dating?” Dean looked at his father with a sense of desperation, John just had to apologize and you could all drop it. Of course, John, being a stubborn bastard, held his ground and crossed his arms authoritatively. “I-If you aren’t gonna take back what you just said to her y-you can go on this next hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?” John scoffed.

“You heard me,” Dean replied. “She’s everything to me and I can’t sit idly by while you talk to her like that.”

“So you’re talkin’ back to me now? Like Sammy?” John asked. “Refusing to take orders?”

“This isn’t about me, Dad!” Dean said, his face twisted with guilt. “You know I follow any orders you give, that I’m quick to obey. But you saying Y/n isn’t family? I-I’m sorry but I can’t let that slide, Dad.”

John huffed and abruptly left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Dean the moment John was out of earshot.

“Me too.” Dean smiled sadly as you both wiped your eyes quickly.

“Why don’t we get these jeans off of you so you can be more comfortable?” you suggested patting his shin.

His brows shot up; “Really? Here? Now?”

“Dean, no!” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I meant comfortable so you can go to sleep!”

“Oh…yeah, that makes more sense.” His trademark cocky smile was back and that made your own smile return to your now tear-stained face.

“I’m serious about you staying put, you know.” You nodded toward his pants and he got the message.

“You can be real stubborn, you know that?” he laughed as he hurried and slipped his pants off. You folded them up and put them on the chair along with his belt. He shrugged off his jacket and you tossed it on top of where the pants sat.

“Get under the covers,” you said. He rolled his eyes playfully but he obliged nonetheless.

“Happy?” He smiled when he was comfortable in the bed.

You nodded; “I love you, Dean.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, causing his smile to turn more genuine.

“Hey,” the doctor interrupted as she walked into the room, “Nurse Roberts just told me about the little outburst… everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, just a little misunderstanding is all,” you replied. “But it’s all settled—Dean’s staying the night.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve gotta be honest I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, clearly anxious about her statement.

“I just meant that your husband is very healthy,” she assured you; “I’ve never seen a young, healthy man like him just collapse from over-exhaustion.”

“First time for everything I guess,” Dean laughed nervously.

You glared at him; “Not funny, babe.”

“She’s right,” the doctor backed you up. “Now, whatever you’ve been doing recently that caused you to lose this much sleep, get this stressed you need to quit it right here, right now.”

“It’s our job, we can’t just… quit,” you said. “But I will definitely keep a closer eye on him from now on, make sure he’s getting enough sleep.”

“You can’t put this all on her, you understand me, Mr. Smith?” She looked at Dean before he nodded shyly. “Mrs. Smith you need to fix your own sleeping habits as well — if you both don’t smarten up and take better care of yourselves, you will definitely be right back here before the end of the year. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said.

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, I’m gonna give you a small dose of a mild sedative to help you fall asleep, alright?” She said as she made her way over to Dean’s IV bag to give him the sedative. “You ripped this out the second you woke up, didn’t you?” She asked him when she realized the needle was no longer in his arm. “You two, I swear!” She started preparing to simply inject Dean with the sedative but you stopped her.

“Is there maybe like a pill equivalent to what you’re giving him? He doesn’t really like needles,” you said.

“There is, would you prefer that?” she asked Dean, and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll go and grab that for you then. Mrs. Smith the chair in the corner folds out into a small bed if you two don’t want to share one.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m not tired,” you said.

She gave you a look; “Seriously? Hun, what did we just talk about?”

“I get that, but I know Dean’s not gonna sleep properly if he doesn’t feel safe.”

“This is a hospital, it’s safe,” she said.

“Sorry,” you said with a small shrug, and again she sighed.

At that moment, John decided to walk back into the room, making your breath hitch a little before the doctor left to get the meds for Dean.

“It’s alright, you two get some sleep; I’ll keep watch,” he said as he made his way over to the chair and sat down.

“You sure, dad? I thought you said there was a job nearby?” Dean asked.

John looked at you and smiled ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was something you had said to him, maybe John didn’t want you being alone with Dean while he was so weak, or maybe there never was a job and he didn’t have anything better to do than stay with his son.

For whatever reason, John Winchester sighed and answered; “You’re more important, Dean. Your safety is more important. Now quit whining and get some sleep.”

Dean pulled the covers back, silently asking you to join him in the bed and, of course, you obliged. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting comfortable in his arms.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple.

“I love you more,” you replied, making him let out a soft laugh.

“You always gotta one-up me, huh?” he chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” you giggled. His arms tightened around your frame as he tucked your head under his chin. John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for treating not only you but his own son so poorly. Every time John saw Dean be this relaxed and happy, you were always the cause. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

By the time the doctor got back about seven minutes later, you and Dean were both fast asleep; the latter letting out snores that gently moved your hair with each breath. She smiled a little at the sight and decided to duck back out of the room so as not to wake you two.

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happy74827 · 5 months ago

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One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

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natalievoncatte · 4 months ago

Text

The yawn stretched Lena’s jaw to the point that she felt like a cat, baring her fangs. Naturally, it prompted a Kara Danvers Pout, which was utterly devastating. Kara looked at her over the top of her drink cup, straw still pursed in her delicate pink lips as she frowned slightly.

“How long have you been awake?”

“I had a half hour nap this morning,” Lena sighed.

She’d been in the office for three days, but she didn’t admit that.

“Leeeenaaaaaaa,” Kara said, drawing her name out into a gentle rebuke. “You promised me you’d stop doing that to yourself. I’m taking you home.”

Lena’s heart skipped and Kara abruptly jerked upright, briefly glancing at her. Lena hated when that happened, when her body betrayed her. Kara meant escort her home; Lena’s thoroughly tired mind had supplied another scenario, one where Kara carried her onto the bed, relieved her of her clothes and dove between her legs, but that was never going to happen. Lena let out a long sigh of resignation, trying to be satisfied with best-friendship.

She hoped Kara hadn’t suddenly developed telepathy.

If you took me home I’d never leave. I could make love to you for a hundred years.

Kara smiled back at Lena’s wistful look. “I mean it.”

“Okay. I can come back to it tomorrow. Besides, I’m too full of grease and cheese to stay awake. Should we…”

Lena never finished her sentence. There was a crackle in the air, a sudden wet smell of ozone, and the thunderous boom that made her ears ring.

Kara flashed in front of her at super-speed, yanking off her glasses and tossing them on the couch in a smooth motion.

Hovering in the middle of her office was some ramshackle contraption resembling a mechanical eye about the size of a basketball that scanned Kara with a faint purple energy ray.

“Kara Danvers. Supergirl. I am Zeglos, Regent of the Alotian Republic. I am calling to you from the home of my people, located in what is to you a subatomic realm we call Universe Q. We need your help, you are our only hope. The invaders are slaughtering us and razing our home. There is no time.”

Kara glanced back at Lena. “I’ll help if I can. Let me-“

“There is no time. You must come with me now.”

“Wait, hold on a second-“

The machine flashed, thrumming as it powered up, and blasted here with a wave of light that surrounded them both, and then in a crackling boom they both vanished, leaving behind the ozone smell and a faint impression of Kara’s boot heels in the carpet.

Lena stared into the empty space for a moment, then shot to her feet, snatching the phone off her desk, where it had lain ignored since Kara walked into the room.

She called Alex, shocked at the blubbering panic in her own voice. Within a few minutes, everyone was there, piling into the room. Lena warded them off from the spot where Kara had stood. Alex was cold and calm, her voice clinical, and she immediately began issuing orders. J’onn took Lena aside and gently asked her probing questions in the manner of an old detective, coaxing every meager detail of the event out of her.

Within half an hour, Brainy and Lena had set up all sorts of equipment around the room, scanning, hoping to find some energy signature or other clue that could enable them to bring Kara back from wherever she’d been taken.

It proved fruitless. They tried everything.

Minutes stretched into hours. Lena was exhausted, heavy with fatigue.

“Go home, get some sleep,” said Alex. “We can’t help her if we pass out on the floor.”

“I’ll sleep here.”

She did, throwing a thin blanket over herself on the couch. It was Alex, not Lena, who cleaned up the Big Belly Burger mess. Lena slept fitfully, showered in the en-suite attached to her office, and changed into an old hoodie that she kept there and wore when no one was looking.

It wasn’t hers. Threadbare, a maroon color faded to a soft red, the back still emblazoned with a cracked and fading Midvale Mathletes Club logo, it was Kara’s. Lena had snatched it from Kara’s sofa and put it on one night when she was feeling bold and then, as now, felt surrounded by it, the oversized garment swaddling her.

And it smelled like Kara, just enough. Kara had stared at her intently for a moment when she took it that night but said nothing, a wistful sad look on her face before the moment was broken by Wynn’s bad joke at the table. Wynn was gone now, but the hoodie remained, just as it had remained when they were fighting, when she thought she’d never see Kara again. She’d worn it then and cried herself to sleep in it.

Just like now.

A day became two. Then three. Five. Lena tried everything, pursued every theory. They called in every favor, human and alien. Brainy tried to send messages to the future. Nia dreamed fruitless dreams. Alex paced like a caged animal and Kelly kept the peace, keeping them all fed, making sure everyone slept, talking things out whenever tempers flared.

Nothing worked.

Lena even tried praying, something she hadn’t done since the last time she was in a small church in Ireland. It didn’t work this time, either.

Lena was seated next to Brainy on the couch, going over a design for a new device to try to follow what was by now a thoroughly cold trail. Alex stood at the balcony door, staring out into a slashing summer rain squall that buffeted the glass with distant thunder and gusts of wind.

The ozone smell tickled Lena’s nose and she looked up, just as Kara took a stumbling step out of nowhere, appearing in her office with an utterly bewildered look on her face.

“Kara?”

Alex snapped round, adding her voice to the chorus. “Kara?”

Kara stared at her sister, open-mouthed, tears welling in her eyes.

“Alex?” she said. “Alex, you’re alive? How is that possible?”

“Alive? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Kara!” Lena cried, her voice ragged in her throat.

At the sound of her voice, Kara snapped around, eyes wide. Her knees buckled and she sagged, almost falling. She stumbled forward as Lena stood and they fell into each other, Lena hurling herself, reckless, into an embrace that revealed too much. She almost climbed Kara, all but throwing her legs around her as well as her arms as she buried her face in the Kryptonian’s neck.

“Oh God. Oh Rao. I thought you would all be gone. I begged them to let me leave but they wouldn’t let me go, I had to…”

“Kara?” Alex asked, cautiously. “Why would we be gone?”

Kara barely seemed to hear her as she gently twined her fingers in Lena’s hair and wrapped her powerful arm around Lena’s waist, encircling and shielding her.

“How long has it been?”

“About a week,” Lena choked out. “I was so scared.”

“A week?” Kara blurted. “It’s only been a week here?”

Alex put a reassuring hand on Kara’s back, standing next to them. “Yeah, you were taken on Tuesday, kiddo. It’s Wednesday, the 17th.”

Kara stared past Lena, resting her chin on the shorter woman’s head, and began to sob with relief.

“Kara?” said Alex.

“Time dilation,” said Brainy.

“They told me time would pass slower up here but I didn’t believe them. I’ve been gone for… for…”

“It’s okay, Kara,” Lena whispered. “You’re okay, you’re back.”

“Eighty seven years, four months, and eighteen days,” Kara sobbed. “It’s been so long, I thought you were all dead.”

Alex stiffened. “Kara. Oh my God.”

Kara buried her face in Lena’s hair and breathed her in, shuddering. “I’d given up. All that kept me going was hoping I could see you again. This is a gift. A gift. I love you all so much.”

Kara still held her, rocking slightly, her big shoulders shaking with powerful sobs.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Kara, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” Kara blurted. “I love you. It’s okay if you don’t love me back, I just need to tell you, I have to tell you. All I could think about down there is how stupid I was and how stupid I’ve been and how none of the reasons I never told you made any sense,” she sucked in a breath as if she’d briefly forgotten how, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There could be no mistaking her intent. She seethed with it, it radiated from her very bones. Lena hugged her hard, crushing her with all her might as if to crawl inside her.

“God, Kara, I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that. I love you too. Let’s… mmmph!”

Kara was kissing her. Lena’s brain briefly froze, then she realized the full magnitude of what was happening. Kara was kissing her. Kara was kissing her. Then Lena was kissing her back. There was so much in it, need and lust and adoration and an unbelievable desperation, but above all love. Lena felt her heart open as if hadn’t in a long time, like a flower unfolding to receive the nurturing warmth of morning sun.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Kara whispered when they finally broke and Lena again could breathe.

“Let me take you home,” said Lena.

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year ago

Text

Fake Boyfriend - p2

Pairings - soft!Rafe Cameron x virgin! Fem reader

Summary - You lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.

Warnings - none

Part one if you missed it

You're aroused from your sleep by the piercing bright light seeping through the curtains, hitting you directly between the eyes. You let out a groan and press your face into the pillow, it feels as though you're on a boat. Your stomach churns as your brain sways within your skull. “Jesus” you mumble, pushing yourself up from the bed slightly.

Panic sets in when you don’t recognise anything in the room, your hands flying under the cover to check you were still clothed.

“God you move a lot for someone with a hangover” a voice grumbles beside you, you sit up so fast your stomach lurches and the growing headache pounds behind your eyes. “Here”.

Your eyes fall to Rafe, he lay next to you, still dressed in the clothes from last night. He has 2 pills in the palm of his hand and a bottle of water, you accept gratefully and lay back down.

Silence falls over the two of you only to be interrupted with his phone ringing, he ignores it and sits up to look at you. “I’m sorry about yesterday, my friend wouldn’t shut up about me not having a boyfriend. The lie just slipped” you speak, he nods his head but stays silent. Your eyes wander over his face trying to pick up on an emotion but it’s unreadable, his blue eyes stare back at you.

“Never had a boyfriend huh?” He smirks, his left eyebrow raises in question. Redness spreads across your cheeks, spinning your body until it hides under the blanket. “So does that mean..”.

“Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing” you exclaim, you feel sick to the stomach. Thankfully you're both pulled away when his phone rings for the second time, he answers it with a huff and pulls himself from the bed.

You peek your head out of the blanket and watch him close the bathroom door behind him, you take this moment to step out of bed. Wobbling slightly on the plush carpet, thankfully the nausea had subsided and you were just left with a headache.

You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and made a dash for it, no way were you going to wait for him knowing he had follow up questions.

You're so close to the front door when Kelsie rounds the corner, she throws her arms around you in delight. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, didn’t want to wake you up myself in case I walked in on something” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You nervously laughed, you probably shouldn’t let her think you were having sex. You know she’d ask for details later and you weren’t sure you could lie about that.

“Hey!” She exclaims, waving behind you. You turn to see Rafe walking towards you with a smirk on his lips, looking away quickly you nudge your friend towards the door. “We should get going” you mumble, gripping her bicep roughly. She shakes her head though just as Rafe’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he brings your back flush against his front.

Your body tingles, well aware that your bum was pressed against where his cock was tucked away. “You can’t leave yet babe, have coffee first”.

Your breath catches in your throat from the nickname, your limbs feel like jelly as you let him push you towards the kitchen. He maneuvers around the kitchen effortlessly and in silence, Kelsie sits on the stool watching him get the coffee machine ready, he turns to look at you and holds out a mug. “Thanks” you manage a smile and step over to help him, he looks down at you for a split second and then over at Kelsie who is tapping on her phone.

“Play along” he whispers, your eyes go wide when his thumb and forefinger trap your chin. Tilting your head up so he can duck down and kiss you.

You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that are let loose in your stomach, your fingers grip the front of his white shirt. His hand pulls you in by your waist, you're trying to remind yourself this is fake. He’s just helping you out, helping you put on a show for your best friend.

“Gross! You’ve been doing god knows what all morning, let me get to know your boyfriend y/n” Kelsie cringes from her seat, dramatically covering her eyes in disgust. But the curve of her lips shows how damn excited she was for you. “What do you want to know?” Rafe questions, placing a mug down in front of her and then handing you yours.

“Everything! How long have you guys been together first?” Her eyes move between the two of you, your mouth opens but no words follow. Slamming your lips closed quickly before she notices. “Only 3 weeks, I’ve known about y/n since she came to the island 2 years ago. Just never had the courage to speak to her”.

Your brows crease together In the middle, was what he was saying true? If it wasn’t, how did he know you moved here 2 years ago?.

“That’s so sweet! Oh y/n I’m so damn happy for you! Anyway you gave me all the goss last night about the two of you, so Rafe what do you do for work?”

You sit in silence while your best friend interrogates Rafe Cameron, you hang onto every last word of his. Making mental notes about everything he was saying, you didn’t know much about Rafe Cameron.

You just knew he was rich and practically owned half the island, you heard a few things about problems with drugs when he was younger but that he got clean. He didn’t bring any of that up though and of course why would he, this whole situation was just to help you out.

“You got yourself a good one y/n! You better keep good care of her, I leave in a few days and I need to know my bestie is well looked after” she says but wiggles her eyebrows at the last part, nudging you in the ribs. You laugh with her and give him a tight smile.

“Of course, I’ll take real good care of her” he winks at you and you're so grateful for the chair that kept you from falling to the ground, one simple movement from him and you were weak at the knees. “Anyway we should get going, I promised you a trip to Charleston” you said, you made your way to the sink to wash the mug but large hands stop you as you reach for the cloth. “I got it”.

“Oh yes! I’m so excited, okay let’s go! Will see you later, yeah Rafe?” You suppress a groan, squeezing your eyes shut at your insistent friend. You open your mouth to tell her he’s got plans with friends but he’s agreeing with her and saying he’ll see you both later.

“I’ll let you say goodbye in private” she winks, skipping around the corner. When you hear the front door lock you turn to him, he’s staring at you again with his bright blue eyes.

“Thank you so much for playing along and helping me out but honestly I’ll tell her you have plans, she’ll be gone in a few days and we can pretend none of this happened”. You state, he doesn’t move from his spot or acknowledge what you’ve said for a few moments, you stare in silence.

“I’ll play your fake boyfriend y/n” he says, placing his mug into the sink and stepping towards you. “You really don’t need to, I’m apparently really good at lying” you reply, you give him an awkward thank you hug and dart out the door.

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, rushing towards the Uber waiting for you. You couldn’t believe you had gotten away with it, one little lie worked and now you no longer had your best friend in your ear about finding a man.

The two of you went home to shower and change, spending your day over in Charleston. Showing Kelsie around the town and shopping. Your feet were on fire by the time you stepped through your front door, you dropped your bags to the floor. “I need to lay down!” You announce, walking straight to your bedroom and dropping onto the bed.

You must have passed out because you're waking up in a dark room, your shoes have been taken off and a blanket draped over you. Your ears prick up to the sound of music, what was Kelsie doing?

You threw the blanket off you and stepped into your bathroom, you grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned up the mascara that had smudged under your eyes. Racking a comb through your hair and stepping back out of the bathroom.

The moment you open your bedroom door you are hit with loud music and the smell of tequila, you follow the noise towards the living room. “There she is!” Your best friend screams, she comes charging at you wrapping her arms around your neck.

Your eyes land on Rafe who sits on the one seater velvet chair, legs spread wide. He sends a smirk your way and raises his glass as a hello. “What is happening?” You question, noticing Rafe’s friends lounge on the couch and your friends looking at you in confusion. Oh god.

Your lie was about to unravel, you hadn’t thought about Kelsie meeting them. “I grabbed your phone while you were sleeping and organized a little get together! But you missy need to stop deleting messages it was very hard to figure out who your friends where”.

You were more concerned about how she got Rafes number, it would have been suspicious for you not to have messages with him. “Luckily everyone was saved in your favorites” she says handing you your phone, when she isn’t looking you search your phone. Rafes name pops up under favorite number 1, he must have put it in there last night? He was a lot better at this fake dating than you had expected.

“Hi” his voice whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your neck sending familiar shivers down your spine. His fingers dance around your hip stopping at your stomach, flattening his hand against you he pulled you back against him. “Hey” you managed, you say, he could tell you were flustered from the pink creeping up your neck until it made home on the apple of your cheeks. “You were asleep when she texted, I’m not as good of a liar as you” he joked, his eyes looking behind you for a moment and then his lips were on yours. You had now been kissed by 3 boys in your our lifetime, his lips were your favorite so far.

“Get a room!” Kelsie shouted, she poured tequila into shot glasses and began passing them around. “Let’s get this party started!”.

An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach, Kelsie never usually drank this much when she was around you. She knew you weren’t much of a drinker, especially since your dad was an alcoholic.

You stared down at the shot in your hand, you really didn’t want to drink tonight. Before you could even bring it to your lips Rafe was swapping his empty shot glass with yours and throwing it back. “You didn’t have to do that” you whispered, his hand still laying upon your stomach. You could feel him breathing against your back. “You didn’t want it”.

He gives you another soft smile and looks back at everyone in the room, Kelsie has turned the music up louder and pulled everyone into the middle of the lounge. “I just need to talk to my friends quickly” he nods his head and drops his hand from you. He watched you make your way to your friends and took a seat back on the seat he once occupied.

“Girl! You didn’t tell us you were seeing Rafe!” Sam exclaimed, she was in pure shock. Your three outer banks friends had lived here all their lives, they had known Rafe since school. “I’m sorry, it’s so recent I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet”.

“That’s okay, totally understand! It’s Rafe Cameron for crying out loud, I never thought I’d see the day he settles down” Grace says, she looks over at Rafe who is still watching you. They send him a smile and look back at you, an uneasy feeling in your stomach again.

“Yeah who knew” you laughed, you stood with them for a bit longer until the feeling of his eyes on you made you squirm. Walking back over to him, he pulled you to sit on his lap.

Your legs sat between his open ones, body nuzzled into his side. His arm around your shoulder, it was surprisingly comfortable and not weird. “We should probably discuss this fake boyfriend thing” he whisperedMy, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You really don’t have to pretend after today”.

He chuckles and moves in his seat a little bit, your thighs rubbing against his groin. The redness once again painted on your cheeks. “You underestimate your friend”.

You look over at Kelsie who’s dancing away with Topper, both of them look like they escaped the mental hospital.

“You might be right” you agreed, unsure why you feel so content against him. You’d sat on boys' laps before and cuddled, it usually made you feel uncomfortable and you’d run off before they got the wrong idea.

“She's here for 3 days, so if you were possibly free over the next few days I’d be forever in your debt” you say, turning slightly to look up at him. He tilts his chin to look down at you, something flashes behind his eyes but you can’t quite place what it is. His smile is intoxicating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the perfectly straight teeth could kill me. “I can be free BUT I need a favour from you”.

“Yeah?” Your heart beats a bit faster and harder in your chest, what could Rafe Cameron possibly want from you? “I’ll need you to come to an event, I need a plus one”.

“Oh sure thing” you answer a bit too quickly, earning a smirk from the man under you. “Let’s talk about rules then?”

“Rules?”

“Yeah, you’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by doing anything you don’t want” he states, his tone is serious and his smile has vanished. “Oh” is all you manage to say to him, he moves again sitting up more straight so you both face each other.

“If I touch you anywhere you don’t like or want, or if I kiss you and you don’t want it, you just tell me. I won’t be hurt”

You nod your head, his hand cups your face and his lips touch yours for only a brief moment. “Sorry… they were watching”.

You turn your head and every snap their head back to what they were doing, a soft chuckle leaves your mouth and you look back at Rafe.

“Okay, and if you're busy or no longer want to be my fake boyfriend you just tell me. No hard feelings”

“Okay”

“Shall we kiss on it?”

You're the one to press your lips to his this time, it’s not quick like the last one. It’s more intense, his tongue snakes between your lips and you're moving in sync. This was a lot better than any of the other kisses you shared with someone.

“Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show”.

“Right” you breath, clearing the back of your throat and laying against him again. Was it normal to enjoy a kiss from a fake boyfriend that much?

Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting

Part 3

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musaslullaby · 3 months ago

Text

The night has only just begun

Max Verstappen x fem reader

Summary: Max becomes jealous when he sees you talking to another man.

Warning: NSFW, +18, you are responsible for what you read.

Masterlist

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I've always loved being around people. Parties, interviews, or simply going out to dinner were a way to clear my head from eternal melancholy.

The limousine sped through the empty streets of Monaco. The only lights visible through the tinted windows were those of the beautiful stars, shining independently in the sky. They’ve always inspired a sense of trust in me, and now, after years of hard work, I can happily consider myself one of them.

"Schatje, are you ready?" Max asked, placing his hand on my leg, covered by the expensive blue dress that sparkled under the moonlight.

"I'm always ready. Perhaps I should ask you if you are." My mischievous smile caused an adorable chuckle from Max, who gently stroked me before stepping out of the car. Like a true gentleman, he opened the door for me, and only at that moment did my eyes wander over his entire body, perfectly framed by a black tuxedo as dark as the night, which highlighted his light blue eyes.

He extended his hand toward me with an elegant gesture while a brilliant, sincere smile adorned his features. His expression was relaxed, genuinely happy, and it made me smile involuntarily. I loved seeing him so at ease, especially because it was rare—during races, he often showed his worst side.

I gently placed my hand in his, which was larger than mine. It felt reassuring as we walked down that red carpet; his presence was warm and calm, in stark contrast to the continuous flashes of the journalists' cameras blinding us. Even the sky seemed to hide its beloved stars from those equally bright machines.

When we entered the venue, the lights were dim, a soft murmur lingered in the background, and waiters constantly passed by with glasses of sparkling wine. Occasionally, you could notice a dark wooden table surrounded by Ferrari-red couches.

My eyes darted around, scanning every person, and they casually caught sight of blonde hair. In an instant, I left Max's side, diving into that ocean of important people, dressed like kings and queens. When I got close enough, I recognized that boy. I knew my eyes weren’t deceiving me. "If I’m not mistaken, this is the scent of…" I said, stopping, resting my hand on my chin as I pretended to think. "Ah yes, it’s the new Giorgio Armani fragrance?"

The boy turned to me with wide eyes. "I can’t believe it, Y/N, how long has it been!"

"Too long!" I whispered, laughing, as we hugged, fearing we’d lose each other again.

"So, how’s it going?" he asked, his bright smile so contagious that I felt a facial paralysis coming on.

"Everything’s fine, thanks," I replied kindly, my voice slightly sweetened.

I had no idea how much time had passed since we started talking, but the only thing I knew was that he hadn’t changed: he was still the same goofy boy as always, and in some ways, that was reassuring. As caught up as we were in the conversation, I completely ignored the phone going crazy with calls and messages. By then, my handbag was vibrating every three seconds.

A laugh erupted from the back of my throat; I loved his humor and jokes, but I didn’t even have time to reply before I felt a deadly grip on my wrist, being yanked from the conversation without realizing it.

"That's enough," Max whispered through clenched teeth, his jaw tight.

"Stop it!" I yelled, trying to resist, drawing the attention of those around us, who suddenly stopped talking. Couldn’t they mind their own business?

"Will you explain what’s wrong with you?" I asked, stumbling as he let go, shoving me violently against the bathroom wall.

"What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?" His anger was evident; I could see it in his eyes, but beyond that, I saw something else… sadness? Melancholy? No, that wasn’t it. Something deeper, perhaps?

"I’m not the one who was eyeing another man," he continued, almost shouting, his voice filled with frustration and repressed feelings.

"What are you talking about? You know I only have eyes for you," I whispered, a slight sense of guilt starting to weigh on me, causing me to lower my gaze.

"Good, liefde, then prove it," he said, pressing his face against mine. I felt his warm breath brushing my lips and his mischievous grin. Ah, that’s what had been in his eyes earlier: lust.

With my cheeks flushed pink, I made the first move, throwing myself onto his slightly chapped lips. Max knew me too well; I would never back down from his provocations.

His hands gripped my hips in a firm hold, pulling me against his body. His teeth sank into my lips, asserting his dominance.

Involuntarily, I let out a sharp squeal, which earned an approving sound from Max. His kisses moved down to my exposed neck, biting and sucking the sensitive spots he knew all too well.

When he pulled away, I ran my hand over the purple and red marks he had left on me. A shiver of excitement shot down my spine as Max seductively licked his lips.

"Kneel," he ordered in a firm, authoritative voice, as he unbuttoned his pants.

With a subdued nod, I knelt before him, noticing the bulge in his pants. When I saw his member freed from its restraints in front of my face, I felt a sharp pang of pleasure deep in my core. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him. I could hear his muffled grunts under my touch, and the heat he caused throughout my body was heavenly.

"Damn…" His hands found a grip in my hair, tugging to push deeper into his sex. My cheeks flushed red as he completely controlled the rhythm. Gag reflexes took over my body, feeling his member contract and the veins growing rigid. Suddenly, I noticed the pace increasing, although sloppier, and after two more thrusts, Max released himself into my throat.

"Swallow it all, I don’t want to see a drop," he whispered, pulling me up by my hair. His cheeks were flushed pink, and sweat dripped down his forehead.

He was incredibly sexy. With a seductive movement, I placed my hands on his chest, letting his expensive jacket fall to the ground. The white shirt clung to his body from the sweat, revealing his sculpted abs.

Max dropped the authoritative act for a moment, planting a sweet, wet kiss on my lips, tasting himself, before returning to the Max from before.

Without effort, he lifted me into his arms, playing with the edge of my panties, slightly pushing them aside, brushing against my swollen, already wet lips.

"You're already ready for me, schatje? Pathetic," he whispered with a mischievous laugh on my lips, and his closeness definitely wasn’t helping.

Quickly, he aligned himself with my entrance and penetrated me, our ragged breaths mingling together. I could feel every part of him inside me, every small movement and his overwhelming heat. He didn’t wait a second before hammering into me at an inhuman pace. I was sure my screams could be heard throughout the club.

He was consistent, hard, and fast. No second thoughts or hesitation, his movements were precise and sure. I buried my face in his neck while he grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.

The tip of his member hit my g-spot, making me melt like cream in his hands. I could no longer think straight. A warmth crept into my lower abdomen, and with each thrust, it became more intense and taut until it finally snapped, accompanied by a scream carrying his name in a vulgarly melodious way.

"He would never make you scream the way I do," he said between grunts, pushing even deeper, losing energy as he went.

After a few more thrusts, he reached the height of pleasure and came inside me with a stifled groan, muffled by a kiss full of sweetness and lust, mixed in a perfect cocktail.

Sweat dripped down his face as he lovingly pressed his forehead against mine.

"I love you, schatje," he whispered against my lips in a soft voice, planting a few kisses on my face.

"I love you too, especially when you're jealous," I said with a playful smile, grazing his earlobe with my teeth, making him shiver at the contact.

"Ready for the next round?" he said with a mischievous smirk, running his fingers down my back, exposed by the low cut of my dress.

"The night has only just begun..." I whispered, laughing softly as I gently caressed his cheek, my heart beating faster knowing what awaited me.

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vivwritesfics · 6 months ago

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Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twenty

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

3.4K

Warnings: smut, p in v, kidnapping

Series Masterlist

His arm was over her waist as light filled the bedroom. It was weird, wasn't it? The apartment had no sort of protection, but the two of them had never felt safer.

She moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. In the months since Oscar had died, Lando hadn't been back to the house. Any work he'd had to do had been done from the comfort of the apartment. That was when Lando was working.

The money he'd gotten from selling his club should have gone back into the Norris Family, but Lando kept it. He kept it for them, kept it to renovate the apartment. The decorations were much the same in every room but the bedroom. No, they'd made the bedroom their own. They'd bought a new bed, a new wardrobe, put new carpeting down and got new carpets.

Lando let out a groan when she removed his arm from her waist. "Baby," he grumbled, eyes still shut as he turned towards her. "Stay." He tried to wrap his arms around her again, but she quickly removed herself from his hold.

She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, easing his frown. "I'll be back in a moment, Lan," she whispered and kissed his lips. His slight moustache and the hair decorating his chin tickled her skin as she kissed him. But that was nothing compared to how it felt when his face was buried between her thighs.

Wrapped up in her fluffy robe, she walked out of the bedroom and through the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Lando hadn't redecorated the kitchen. He'd fixed the sink, gotten a new microwave, oven and coffee machine.

The hand towels she had picked out. They were cute with little green flowers that matched the rest of the kitchen. They went with the theme even more once she'd bought all of the plants. Lando didn't have a green thumb, yet.

She made herself a coffee and leaned against the counter as she waited for her mug to fill. Life had been bliss in the few months since they'd left the Norris house. There wasn't that constant fear that came with being surrounded by dangerous men and weaponry.

She'd never ask Lando to leave the Norris Family. It was what he'd been groomed to do his entire life; she didn't know what he knew anything outside of the Norris Family. But he'd been so much happier since he'd stopped working.

Releasing a sigh, she grabbed her coffee mug and heading back towards the bedroom.

Lando was sitting up when she walked in. He stretched his arms up and released a yawn from his lips. "I've got four missed calls from Max," he mumbled and rubbed his hand over his face.

She leaned against him and sipped her coffee. "Are you gonna see him before you go to visit your sister?" She asked as Lando ran his hands through her hair. It was so damn soothing that it had her shutting her eyes.

"I should," he mumbled and kissed the top of her hand. His arm settled around her, holding her against him. "I'm gonna," he said with a nod. "Yeah, I'm gonna."

They got themselves ready for the day. Lando didn't get dressed into his jeans. He got dressed into a pair of jeans and a white wife beater, snazzy jacket on top. He looked damn good with a chain around his neck and round sunglasses covering his eyes. Mouth wateringly good, actually.

She pulled him in and raked her hand through his hair, pushing it back. "I love it when you're not in suits," she whispered and kissed him.

His hands were on her thighs as he dropped her back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, crawled between her legs. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around him, holding him against her. "Lan," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. "C'mon, you gotta get going."

"I don't," he mumbled and kissed down her neck.

But she pushed him. "Well, I do," she replied, smile playing on her lips. As she walked around the bedroom and got herself ready for the day, Lando trailed after her. He zipped up her skirt with teasing touches and stood behind her as she sat at her vanity, brushing through her hair.

Wrapping his arm around her, Lando walked her out of the apartment. "I'll drop you off," he said and took her down to the parking garage. She kissed him as the elevator took them down to the parking garage.

As Lando drove her to work, he kept his hand on her thigh. The windows were down and the music was loud. It was pure bliss.

She kissed him before she climbed out of the car. "I'll see you later," she said and backed out of the car before she could change her mind and return home with him.

Lando watched as she walked towards her office. He didn't know if the sway of her hips was intentional or not, but she was all his. All his.

Once she'd disappeared, Lando drove out of the car park. He didn't know what to do with his left hand now that she wasn't in his car, now that he couldn't put his hand on her thigh. She'd been gone for all of two seconds and he already missed her.

God, he was pathetic, and he loved it.

He drove through the gates, to the Norris house. The pink, flowery air freshener swung from his mirror, a little piece of her in his car. He killed the engine and climbed out, keys jangling as he shoved them into his pocket.

Nothing could kill his good mood.

There was slight chaos in the Norris house, but he didn't know that. He didn't know that everything had fallen to shit without him to lead.

Pulling his sunglasses from his face, he knocked on the door of Max's office. "Come in!" Max shouted, his voice strained.

Lando strode in. As soon as he saw the mess of Max's office, his face dropped. "What the hell did you do?" He asked, hooking his sunglasses over the neck of his wife beater.

"It's been a fucking mess since you took off," he said as he searched through his mess of paperwork. "Debts haven't been collected and we haven't been able to pay off the police so they're no longer on our payroll!" He stressed and pushed his hand through his hair. It did little to sooth him.

"Relax," Lando said and sat in the seat opposite Max. "I'll get someone to collect the debts. Did you do that thing I asked?"

Max glared, but he gave a nod. "Down in the kitchen," he said and Lando stood up.

He clapped Max on the shoulder and walked out of the office. He didn't miss this place. It might have been where he grew up, but he didn't miss it. This wasn't his home. Home was wherever she was.

***

The candles on the table were lit and something was bubbling away on the stove. She'd never walked in to a scene like this before. "Lando?" She called, dropping her bag by the front door. "What the hell is this?"

He quickly left their shared bedroom, shutting the door before she could get a glimpse inside. "Hi, baby," he said and marched towards her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in and kissed her. "How was work?"

She looked towards the kitchen table. "What're you doing?" She asked, reaching up to gently tug at his curls. The moment she did, Lando let out a whine.

He pulled away, took her hand and pulled her towards the table. "Well, I thought we could have dinner before I go to Spain tomorrow," he said and pulled out a chair for her.

She didn't sit down immediately, not before throwing herself at him once again. Her lips touched every part of his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said between kisses.

Lando gently sat her down. "Do you need any help with the cooking?" She asked when he returned to the stove. He checked his phone quickly and checked the spaghetti.

"I got it," he said and turned off the stove. He brought the spaghetti into the pan with what else he was cooking and added the sauce. "If it tastes like shit, I'll get us takeout," he promised and dished it up.

It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever eaten. There certainly was room for improvement, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Do you remember our conversation about getting a dog?" He asked her as he finished his dinner. It wasn't as good as he thought it was going to be. So much far Carlos's help.

She placed her fork down on her plate and grabbed her glass of water. "Uhm, I remember us saying that getting a dog was impractical until we know what's going on in our future," she answered.

Lando's expression dropped from his face. "Wait, really?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, shit. Shit, baby. I swear I remember that conversation ending different," he said, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

"Lando," she said gently, reaching across the table for his hand. "What did you do?"

She asked it so softly, so gently, that it had him standing up and walking over to their bedroom door. "I didn't want you here with no protection while I was in Spain," he explained with his hand on the door handle. "So, I had Max get us Bruiser."

"Bruiser?"

He pushed open the bedroom door and the dog running out.

Bruiser didn't much look like a guard dog. He didn't look like Bruiser. The Beagle came running out of the bedroom, a toy carrot held between his sharp teeth. His tail was wagging as he trotted up to Lando and sniffled him. Lando petted his head but Bruiser turned to investigate her.

"Hi," she said with a beaming smile as she let him sniff her hand. She turned that beaming smile to Lando as she scratched behind Bruiser's ears. "Oh, he's gorgeous, Lan," she said as his tail hit the table leg. "I love him!" She slipped onto the floor and Bruiser dropped his toy carrot in favour of licking her face. "You're such a lovely boy," she said to him. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

Lando watched on. God, it was such a site. He'd been so worried, having Bruiser in the bedroom while they ate dinner. But she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

When she stood, Bruiser picked up his carrot toy and trotted after her. "You're the best," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think I'm gonna need to give you something for this."

His hands were on her back as she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his neck.

Lando pulled away from her. "Sorry, boy," he said as he walked past Bruiser. He blew out the candles on the table and filled Bruisers bowl. "You're gonna have to stay out here." He whistled and Bruiser walked over to him. "Go on boy, get in your bed," Lando said and Bruiser did just that.

Lando pulled her into the bedroom. He pushed the door shut behind her and immediately had her against it, his lips kissing down her neck. "I'm gonna miss you so much," he grumbled against her neck, his knee between he legs.

The noise she released was so damn desperate as she ever so slightly rocked her hips. Her hands travelled over his shoulders and up to his hair. Every time she tugged on his curls, it had him whining against her.

She pushed him away, pushed his hand enough that Lando fell back against the bed. Well, he could have stopped himself, he could have stayed standing up, but he didn't want to. As soon as the back of his legs touched the bed, he sat down and pulled her on top of him.

His grip on her was so damn tight as she kissed him. She held his face, help him still as her kisses barely touched his lips, teasing him. God, if she didn't stop soon...

She pulled away entirely and pulled her shirt over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she reached back and unclasped her bra. Fuck, he'd never get used to the site of that, the sight of her.

As soon as her bra was on the floor, he kissed down her chest. His teeth grazed her skin and he sucked a patchwork of bruises across her chest. "Love your tits," he mumbled with his eyes shut as he kissed down to her pebbled nipples.

Her back arched as Lando pulled them between his lips. "Oh fuck, Lan," she hissed, hips squirming as Lando paid each of her breasts special attention. He went from the left to the right and back again. Back and forth until she was using his curls to tug him away.

"I need you to fuck me," she whispered as she reached for his jeans. "Right fucking now."

Lando was only happy to oblige. He laid her down and pulled her skirt down her legs. There was no better site than this, than having her laid bare for him. If he could have, he would have had a picture of her like this, a painting of her commissioned to hang in his office. His gorgeous girl.

His touch was so gentle as he climbed on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him desperation clear, but Lando needed a moment. Just one moment with her before he railed her. He touched her, hands on her waist, thumb brushing over her skin. "You're so pretty, baby," he whispered, his expression so soft and affectionate as he looked at her.

"Gonna miss me while you're in Spain?" She whispered as she gazed into his eyes.

He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "So damn much, baby."

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, she pulled out his phone. "Well, we're just gonna have to do something so that you don't miss me so much." She unlocked his phone and opened the camera.

His eyes were sparkling as he sat back and snapped pictures of her, looking so pretty in their bed. In their bed, in their apartment, with their dog in the other room. His life was fucking perfect.

Tossing his phone to the side, he pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans. Still in his underwear, she could see just how much his cock was straining against the material. He climbed back on top of her, this time grinding himself against her.

"Lan," she whined, trying to push down his underwear. "It isn't fair."

He just laughed and dropped kisses to her chest. "Hang on, baby," he whispered, hips still moving against her.

Finally, he pulled away. He stood up and there was an undeniable wet patch on his underwear. "You're fucking soaked, baby," he whispered as he looked at her, looked between her legs. What a fucking sight.

He pushed down his underwear and climbed on top of her. Gripping himself, he nudged his tip through her folds, caught her clit. Even just this had her gasping for more. "Please," she whispered again and again until he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.

The feeling of him was indescribable. She squeezed her eyes shut, legs clamping around him, holding him against her. His hands were so gentle against her face as he pushed her hair behind her ear and dropped kisses to her face.

Sex had gone like this since they'd moved into the apartment. It was loving, as if it was going to be the last time. It wasn't the last time, and the both of them couldn't help but feel silly after. But they couldn't help it.

His hips gently rocked against her, pushing himself in further. He pulled back only slightly before pushing back in. At no moment was she not full of him.

With his face buried in her shoulder, he sped up. Every time she moaned, every time she pulsed around him, Lando groaned against her and sped up. His hand fell into her own, lacing his fingers between hers as he held them above her head.

She cried his name over and over and over again. But that soon turned into incoherent noises, her legs squeezing him even tighter. Lando grunted against her skin as he hips began snapping against her own.

The bed creaked and squeaked, the headboard hitting the wall. It was so damn close, but neither of them cared. Lando kept going as her whines and cries became more and more high pitched. That coil tightened until she snapped, sending her over the edge.

"Holy fuck," Lando choked out. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him. "I..." He choked out something of his own, something she couldn't understand, before he came, hips stuttering. He tried to keep moving, tried to stuff himself inside of her, to keep her full of him, but exhaustion was dragging him under.

Chest heaving, he fell against her. Lando unlaced his fingers from her own and repeatedly gave her kisses. "My gorgeous baby," he whispered, breath coming out in short puffs.

***

Lando was in Spain.

He'd jetted off two days ago, and she missed him so damn much. Her evenings after work had been spent on the sofa, cuddling up with Bruiser.

"Your daddy is the best," she said to Bruiser as she scratched behind his ears. "I can't want for him to come home."

The empty apartment was filled with the sounds of Bruisers tail hitting the sofa. He was perfectly content to lay there with his carrot toy, his head against his owners thigh. (Max had found Bruiser at a rescue centre. His owners had died and that was how he found himself at the rescue centre. The moment Max laid eyes on the Beagle, he knew he was the one for Lando. Bruiser was just happy to have a home again).

Her fingers itched as she looked towards the window. The sun was setting, the sky painted orange. She turned towards Bruiser. "Should we go on a walk?"

Immediately, Bruiser was on his feet as she grabbed his lead. She clipped it to his collar, grabbed her keys, and left the apartment.

Bruiser led the way. He didn't pull against the lead during their walk, but he stayed in front of her, taking her down the streets and to the park. The park. In the few days since Lando had brought him home, Bruiser loved the park. He'd met other dogs, sniffed their butts and chased them around.

He loved the park, loved the pretty Collie that was apart of the dog walking group he and his mum sometimes saw.

But the dog park was empty when they arrived. Bruiser let out a whine, sitting there and looking around as his mum unclipped the lead. As soon as he was released, he went trotting off.

His friends had been there, he could tell by the scents left behind. He sniffed at the trees, at the lampposts, seeing which of his friends had been there. Polly the pretty Collie had been there, as had Perdy and Pongo. Tim the Dachshund and his Pug brother, Ollie. All of his friends had been there, and he had missed it.

Bruiser did a little more exploring. There was another dog he had never met, but she snapped her jaw and her owner pulled her away. Defeated, Bruiser turned and went to find his mum.

He picked up her scent, followed it to the bench he had left her sitting on. Her scent was strongest there, but she wasn't there. But it wasn't just her scent. There was something sour, something unfamiliar, starting at the bench and leading towards the park exit.

His mothers scent went in that direction, too. Bruiser let out a whine and followed her scent towards the park exit.

But when he got there, a white van sped off, taking her scent with it. Bruiser barked, but his mum didn't hop out of the van, didn't come back for him. He couldn't do anything but bark and howl until somebody found him.

a/n: I'M SO DAMN SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! buuut we're almost finished with this one. idk how this update was so big but i hope you guys like it!!

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geniecarpetmanufacturers2023 · 10 months ago

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oneforthemunny · 9 months ago

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home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation.

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent.

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers.

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine.

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully.

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets.

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?”

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion.

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets.

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently.

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?”

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.”

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-”

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.”

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration.

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow.

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered.

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows.

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back.

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?”

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be.

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.”

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.”

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?”

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.”

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.”

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air.

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.”

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.”

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold.

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer.

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game.

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.”

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.”

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?”

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?”

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.”

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.”

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything.

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently.

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled.

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.”

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued.

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.”

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor.

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them.

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled.

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement.

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back.

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow.

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you.

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.”

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?”

“Eddie-”

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly.

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?”

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him.

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.”

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly.

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days.

It felt like home.

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place.

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle.

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you.

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar.

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

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onlineshopbkks-blog · 2 years ago

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mintmatcha · 9 months ago

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Inevitable Things : chapter one

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in the first two chapters, sorry gang :)

masterlist | next chapter

Prome Medical Devices hired you as a personal assistant to the CEO, Toshinori Yagi, shortly after he was diagnosed with his second bout of prostate cancer and shortly before they learned it had metastasized to bone. It was a tragic, yet expected turn of events.The man had been sick most of his life, they told you, he's probably slept in hospital beds more times than he's slept in his own. It was, like most things, inevitable.

Over the following weeks, through chemo and taps and rotating hospital doors, he began working from home and handling only the absolute basics, and your silly assistant job evolved into more. You had only planned to stay for a couple months, but then another horrible thing happened.

You became Somehow Important.

Days went from scrolling on Twitter between writing notes to juggling everything that no one else could handle. Sitting in for meetings, handling calls, scheduling reviews and system checks, running to the pharmacy midday: there's nothing you haven't done. It’s a lot, but in the grand scheme of it all, it's nothing-- especially compared to the things that everyone else gets done here.

8:35am. The security man gives you a nod without checking for your badge. Engineers skitter around the office like cockroaches. It's always a good sign when no one immediately comes to find you; that means your boss is still alive and doing about the same as he was yesterday. No updates, you’ve found, are good. No one bothers to tell you when good things happen: you’re the fixer, the emergency contact. When you’re being informed of anything, it’s because someone else wants you to clean up the mess.

(The only exception is from the man himself. Toshinori sends you the best kind of updates; mundane things from his life that he needs to share, like pictures of his duck pond or his review of the new coffee shop in town. It’s enough to keep you going, even when the day absolutely blows. You only had a few months working directly with the man, but he was fond of you-- and everyone was fond of him.)

Outdated filaments thrum down the halls. Your heels click against the tile with every step, a slow march to another day of monotony, a kind of dread that not even your phone can distract you from. Because your position is rather undefined for the corporate world, your desk is in an awkward spot, sandwiched in the hall, equidistant from the engineering department, the CEO's office, and the coffee machine. In terms of convenience, it's lovely, but it also means you have nowhere to hide.

Before you can even make it to your desk, a young man pops into the way and heads straight for you, a bit too quickly to be passed off as casual. Your heart sinks, then you realize it's just one of the interns: a college kid who's clearly had too many energy drinks already.

“Hey,” Denki smiles with too much gum, so wide his cheeks almost swallow up his eyes. He’s a scruffy, dirty blonde, a patchy black streak on one side of his head. His button down is obviously unironed, so crumpled it almost looks like a pattern, matching perfectly with his untied tie. It’s a good thing that he’s cute; you doubt he’d have gotten this far in life if he wasn’t.

“Good morning, how are you? Have a good night? You look so pretty this morning. MILF town over here.” he says, twiddling the toe of his shoe into the carpet. “I made the pot of coffee for you,so you don’t have to worry about that-”

You cut him off. “What did you do?”

The interns don’t report to you. If anything, they run parallel to you. If there’s anyone they should be ass kissing, it should be the department head, not some personal assistant, but the group considers you an ally. Maybe even a friend.

“I wouldn’t say that it’s something that I did,” the boy explains. He sucks air in through his teeth. “It’s more like what I didn’t do.”

“Denki.”

“It’s just the reports! I have to submit them end of day and it’s just not--” He juts out his bottom lip. “Can you proof my work? Please? The Eraser’s going to have my head if I make another mistake.”

The lead engineer is infamous for deleting whole chunks of code that the interns have made and ruining months of their work. Last month it was Ochako's work, who then spent the rest of the day at your desk, sniffling. The four others were equally terrified of the man, constantly fretting and bitching about the ‘cruel working conditions.’ If Prome wasn't so prestigious (and internships weren't necessary for graduating) there’d be no interns left. You’re sure Eraser would prefer it that way.

“Please?” Denki clutches his hands together in prayer. “Please, please, please?”

You don't even pretend to hem and haw.

“Email it over before lunch.” you say and he lights up.

“Aw, you’re the best!” He turns away and practically skips down the hall. “I’m gonna drop off Izuku’s stuff too, okay?”

There’s no chance to say no before Denki’s gone. You flop into your chair and kick off your heels, trying to convince yourself that you don’t already regret saying yes. You catch your own appearance in the black screen of your computer. Makeup doesn’t do much to cover up the fact you’ve been crying. You can see it in your eyes, in the creases of your skin that you wish weren't there. Even as the screen lights up, you can still catch your own face, starting back with that sad, sad expression.

It's been mostly sleepless nights since Touya left, but you push through and ignore whatever you can. You miss your travel mug, the one that matched the coaster on your desk. You miss your forks, the ones that weren’t the awful ones from the thrift store down the road, bought solely out of panic when you returned to an empty apartment. Most of all, you miss him, how the apartment felt warmer with two bodies instead of one, and how secure you felt with someone who loves you.

Your screen loads and a big, red 24 flashes in the corner-- fuck, the works already piling up. You try to squish any thought of Touya’s disappearing act into the back of your head. Like a dog, Touya always comes back home to you. He just needs to be wild for a bit, play off leash, and then he’ll crawl back like always.

You check your phone. He’s still saved under “AVOID AT ALL COSTS” and the last five texts you sent are all unread. Your thumb hovers over the delete button for a moment; it’d be easier to cut him off and end this cycle. You can stop pushing the boulder up the hill, just for it to tumble back down again. You could pursue someone else, maybe someone nice or smart or at least not rude-

Focus. Compliance is raising concerns about the new platform and manufacturing has CC'ed you into an issue about screw heads, two things that you know nothing about. You flip your phone over and push through. What’s the difference between a hex and a truss and why should you care?

11:59. You’re none the wiser about either topic, but the dust seems to be settling and everyone seems to be happy enough. Denki’s reports are an absolute mess, bad to the point you start to wonder if he even tried. The pages aren't even formatted correctly, so it’s going to take most of your lunch to iron out the wrinkles. Luckily, Izuku is a bit more competent and his tasks look great, so-

“Oh, baby girl!”

You stop typing and sit straight up to peer over your computer screen, hiding the remnants of your microwaved lunch. With arms raised high and dressed in his finest ironed button down, Yamada Hizashi enters. Tall, blonde, thin, and leggy: Hizashi would have been a Victoria’s Secret model if he wasn’t a man. His long hair is tied back into a messy bun, a couple of loose tendrils floating around his face in an effortlessly, annoyingly charming way as he marshes straight for you.

“Let me see ‘em!” he demands loudly, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Come on, baby. You know what I want.”

If it was anyone else, you’d think the man was a creep, but Hizashi is just so earnest about the way he lights up a room. With a belabored sigh and a grin, you roll your chair back a bit and stick your leg to the side to reveal your pink, fluffy slippers. The man claps his hands together and laughs a deep, hearty chuckle, genuinely bemused.

The bunny slippers had started as a secret. The original dress code had required women to wear heels to work, which was fine, until the back of your feet became nothing but blisters. To give yourself some respite during the day, you had hidden a pair of slippers under your desk, just a little treat to make it through the day. It seemed like a genius idea-

Until the day the fire alarm went off. In the surprise, you had forgotten to change your shoes back, and proceeded to spend the next half an hour outside with the entire company in your violently pink shoes.

Luckily, everyone thought it was pretty funny.

Especially Hizashi.

“Seeing my work wife is the best part of the week.”

You throw a hand over your heart and gasp, trying to hold back your smile. “Only your work wife?”

“Oh, babygirl, I’d marry you in an instant.” He leans over your desk with another sigh, this one heavier. “I’d make you the trophy wife you were born to be.”

“Cool it, Mic.” Your heart sinks a bit at the voice. “HR is going to have your head if you aren’t careful.”

Aizawa “The Eraser” Shouta makes his third appearance at the coffee machine this morning. He’s an average sized man, if not slightly short, with dark hair and the beginnings of a salt and pepper beard. The muscles in his jaw flex whenever he looks your way, almost as if he’s chewing away his annoyance. The most notable thing about him is a scar on his high cheek bone, long healed and silver in the light. He sits his coffee cup - a beat to shit Stanley thermos from long before they were cool- under the tap and lets the java pour, that sour expression never leaving his face.

Aizawa has worked here since the beginning. As one of the founding members of Prome and a lead engineer, he’s had his hands in absolutely every machine the company has produced, and yet he carries himself with none of the pomp and circumstance he deserves. Instead of abiding by the strict dress code, he wears a bright yellow sweatshirt that has an obvious coffee stain on the pocket. It’d be charming if he wasn’t an infamous dick. The two of you rarely interact, despite the fact he visits the coffee station next to your desk multiple times a day, offering you no more than a nod most days. The interns are terrified of him-- and rightly so. You’re also scared of him. You’ve never met anyone else as tightly wound or as obsessed with work as him; there’s a rumor that he even sleeps here some days.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hizashi says. “He’s just jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m protecting the company from potential litigation when bunny slippers over here-” he juts a chin your way- “ decides your flirting isn’t fun anymore.”

You knew he wasn’t jealous. It’s an open secret that Aizawa doesn’t like you very much. Unlike any other of the department heads, he never allocates you work or stops by to chat. There was even a rumor that he wanted to eliminate your position last year; you wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t have the power and sway to make that happen.

Hizashi pops a hip to the side. He isn’t afraid of anyone it seems; he even claims to be the man’s friend after hours.“Would you rather me go back to flirting with you?”

Aizawa stares back, only the trickle of coffee echoing in the hall. Finally, when it almost reaches the top, he shuts it off and glares. “You’re not even supposed to be in office today, Mic.”

Hizashi had always been the most notable salesman in the company, but once the CEO’s health went downhill, he had taken over a lot of the speaking roles as well. Interviews, speeches, and the like: Toshinori Yagi had dubbed him Mr. Microphone and the name had just stuck. From what you can tell, he’s actually pretty close with Aizawa and the other founding members outside of work as well.

“I have a quick meeting with the marketing gals in a couple minutes,” Hizashi explains. He brings his attention back to you, brows waggling. Fuck- you know what he’s about to say.

“And I wanted to wish my wife an early happy birthday.”

Oh, god. Your face flushes with heat-- you had hoped he had forgotten that. You glance over to Aizawa, who seems more interested than usual.

“It's tomorrow,” you explain. He nods curtly.

“Our office darling is going to be thirty, flirty and feeling fine!” Mic explains further. Ugh. You wish he didn't sound so happy about it. When you think about it for too long, turning thirty feels like the end of the world, an evil you just can't avoid. It's better than the alternative, you guess.

“Are you and the boyfriend planning on a romantic night?”

A second gut punch of a statement.

“Oh, no, I’m just-- he--” You almost get emotional for a moment. Thirty years old and single: it feels like the end of the world for some reason. Everyone else is getting married or having kids or living some dream life. Fuck-- even two of the goddammit interns are engaged and they're practically babies! At this point, you might as well give up and die alone; no one else is ever going to want you, are they?

The glimpse of Aizawa in the corner, watching you with those judgemental eyes, sobers you up quickly.

“We broke up, so I’m just staying in.”

The two snap their heads towards each other. Mic waggles his eyebrows, not so subtly gesturing to a non receptive Aizawa. You know that look, the excitement and relief. It’s not a secret that no one really liked Touya-- people have been openly voicing their contempt for years. He wasn’t a bad guy, except for the times he was, but people only ever remembered the bad things.

“Oh, is it…?” Mic bites back his words, debating how harsh he should be. “Is it for real this time?”

Touya always comes back. Everyone knows the routine by now.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m done with him.”

“Good.” Aizawa says. You grimace at that; even he knows? You didn’t know he paid attention to anything outside of work, let alone your shitty interpersonal drama.

“More than good. Amazing! Spectacular! I’m so, so, so proud of you!” Mic adds on and you pretend it doesn’t bother you. It’s strange; the more others despise him, the more your heart aches. Touya needs you and you need him; who else will have him?

Who else will have you?

“That means we can go out for drinks to celebrate!”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“Too late, nope. We’re having a two-for-one birthday single bash tomorrow.” He’s on his phone, typing wildly. “I hope you have something pretty to wear because I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

Fuck. You’d rather be alone, sniveling and waiting for Touya’s return in your apartment, but Hizashi is smiling. His intentions are good; it’d be cruel to deny him.

“Nemuri knows some awesome spots-” The man is a whirl, typing and talking and walking. “You better get excited, baby girl.”

“Oh, yay,” you offer weakly. Hizashi isn’t listening anymore; he’s caught up in his own plans, briskly walking down the hall. A breath you didn’t know you were holding sneaks out and you slump back down to your seat.

“You really don’t have to let him walk all over you like that,” Aizawa says. He swirls his cup slowly, watching the rim.

You try to offer the man a smile, but you can tell it looks forced. Sure, Hizashi can be a lot, but he just wants to help, as misguided as that urge is.

“It’s okay.” When he doesn’t look convinced, you add. “Really.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, voice tight.

“Mhm.” You return to your keyboard and start typing, hoping that he understands the social cue. “Thanks though.”

Thankfully, he lets it go. Turning down the hall, he starts to sip his coffee, but then freezes mid stride.

“You make this?”

“No.”

“I can tell,” Aizawa says, examining his cup. “It’s fucking dog water.”

That comment is so off kilter that you can’t help but snort. Aizawa watches you for a beat more, maybe bemused, maybe not, then nods. With that, he leaves, an empty coffee pot in his wake. Another item to add on your growing list.

The rest of the day goes by quicker than you need it to. Denki leaves a little bit after lunch for a doctor’s appointment and the rest of the workforce trickles out after. The head of development, Nezu, has you run through potential presentations before you follow up on compliance’s worries again. The coffee pot was refilled four more times, all by you, and your messages to Touya still sit delivered and unread. Two hours after the work day was supposed to end, you slip your heels back on. Denki’s files are pretty much unrecognizable now, but that’s a good thing. All of the college students are intelligent and more accomplished than you’ll ever be, but you’re not sure why they can’t figure out basic busy work. There’s nothing hard about it, other than focusing.

With a final press of a key, your personal printer hums to life. A staple and a paperclip and you’re done: now it’s just a quick trip to engineering and you can finally go home. Your work isn't physical, but God, hunching at a desk all day takes a toll on your body. A flare of something eats at your lower back as you stroll the empty building and try to rub the grit from your eyes. You think there’s a frozen pizza at home or maybe some pasta-- though, you can’t remember if that was from this monday or last monday. Maybe it’d be safer to just throw it away.

The department itself is a long row of cubicles, with miscellaneous machines and computers littering the other side of the room. You recognize old prototypes and parts of Prome's most famous product: a hospital bed.

Before you had set foot in this building, you never thought a bed could count as a medical device -- or as something highly complicated and thoroughly engineered -- but this bed is different. It’s comfortable, lightweight, and durable, all while able to track a patient’s movement and comfort. It even records a patient's glucose, body temperature, SPO2, and many other medical things that go over your head. When used correctly, bedsores rates have been reduced to nearly zero and hospital related illnesses are caught significantly earlier.

In about three months, the newest model will be released, complete with full integration into electronic record systems. If everything goes according to plan, it’ll be revolutionary. Working here is a headache, but you do take pride that it's a company that does good.

“Do you need something?”

You jump at the sound of the voice, flipping around to search the room. Tucked at the end of it all is an open office door. Inside, Aizawa is perched at his desk, head in one hand, reading glasses in the other. He’s illuminated only by the computer screen, his deep, dark eyes bouncing side to side as he carefully reads.

Aizawa always looks tired, but now so especially; his heavy lidded eyes are drooped with fatigue and his skin is pallor, black stubble dusting his unshaved cheeks. There’s no bite or annoyance to his voice-- maybe even a little levity. For once, you don’t want to scurry away from him like a mouse, hiding in the shadows and corners to avoid his claws. You still approach cautiously, heels sharp against the tile. The silence in between each hit makes your skin prick with an unknown nausea.

“I thought everyone went home.” You say.

“Everyone did. Just me-- and you, apparently.” He taps out a word or two. His office is devoid of personal items, desk covered in nothing but stacks of papers and illegible post notes, nothing to hint to his personal life. It’s been three years, yet you have no idea what his personal life is like-- if he even has one, that is.

“No slippers tonight?”

That was either a dig or a joke. You aren’t sure either way, but the way your shoes sound when you walk even closer feels like its own answer. When you reach the corner of his desk, he finally looks your way. It hits you that you've never actually been this close to him before. It's always been passes in the hall and distant conversations. His skin is smoother than you'd thought it'd be, with creases between his brow that fill themselves when he-

“Do you… need something?”

“Oh, uh-- Denki left these at my desk by accident,” you lie, sliding the file on to the corner of his desk. “I think they’re for you.”

He regards you again, more thoroughly this time. With a tilt of his head, he inspects your face, eyes flickering between your two. In the dim, they’re nothing but black dots, an inkinesss that you could fall into if you were any closer.

He’s pretty. And that’s an unsettling thought. You’ve never allowed yourself to consider that before. Immediately, you walk the thought back. No. Nobody with his personality is attractive-- hands down. Touya is the only dick you need in your life.

“You should go home. It's late.” he says before turning back to his work. He types a couple things, then hits the backspace and deletes it all again. “Go home.”

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you sigh, the workday catching up to you. “You should too.”

“Hm,” he grunts. He takes a long sip from his thermos, tipping it back to suck the dregs. You’d never noticed the sticker of the bottom before- a faded and torn image of an orange cat. “Maybe.”

That’s a no. You don’t push the issue. You start towards the door, then pause.

“Do… do you want me to make another pot of coffee before I go?” You’re not sure why you offer. Everything’s been put away and cleaned for tomorrow. It’d take at least 15 minutes to set up again.

Aizawa slides his glasses back on, adjusting them by the bridge, only for them to slip right back down the flat bridge of his nose.

“You don't have to do that.”

With that you leave, no proper goodnight dismissing you. The tap of your heels and the clack of his keyboard mix into some sort of soft, unbalanced rhythm. Despite yourself, you think of Touya, of where he is and where he isn’t. Is it also quiet there? Has he thought of someone else in the same way you just did?

When the doors of the building close and the security guard nods your way, the sound of percolation echoes behind you, the final drops falling into a freshly brewed pot.

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myeagleexpert · 7 months ago

Text

𝕮𝖆𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙?

Yuu has reached her limits, tired and without the strength to fight anymore, it is up to Leona to care for and restore her body and mind with devotion. Notes: Leona in this fic may be a little ooc, but I firmly believe that when he enters into a serious relationship with someone he will become more vulnerable and soft, taking care of the smallest details so that the person feels protected. He's very soft and sweet here, which we all need, right? (Fem!Yuu) You are not a machine, you do not run on steam and electricity. You are a human and you deserve to have your rest days. May this fic be a break for you and so that like Yuu you can have your rest.

This was one of those weeks.

Terrible. Exhausting. Desperate. With sleepless nights and days without eating properly.

And after finishing everything in the early hours of Friday to Saturday and handing over his work to Dire Crowley, because taking care of Grim and doing tasks in a magical world where you parachuted in is tiring enough, imagine the injustice when you still have to do the work of a therapist and do all the paperwork that Crowley forgot to do and threw everything into the shaking hands of the young woman without magic is even more tiring and an overload.

Yuu said goodbye to Grim who went yawning to Ramcharkle and called a sleeping lion to come get you, which was quick, considering he was just waiting for the sign of his love to pick her up on the flying broom and take her in bridal style .

Her friends started to worry because the symptoms were getting worse and worse, frequent headaches, irritation with the squad, confusing people's names and potion ingredients, refusing to stop to rest, because she always responded that she wasn't tired. But everyone saw and turned a blind eye when she fell asleep in the middle of classes, when she shook so much that she couldn't drink water properly, when her nails were always bleeding and her hair became brittle. Everyone was worried and didn't know what to do.

She was becoming increasingly sick and weak, a workaholic, and was unable to share the heavy burdens with anyone. She held the world on her shoulders, dividing herself into 100 so that the work could be done with excellence. Terrible idea, but necessary. She had water up her neck and was running out of air and options.

Jack, as a loyal friend, had the courage to tell Leona everything that was happening to Yuu, and that he, as her boyfriend, should do something. It was then that Leona swore that she would take care of her now, because if the discrepancies didn't lead anywhere, he would have to take drastic actions, like wrapping up an act in a burrito.

"Are you okay?"-Leona looked worried at her strangely cold and quiet form.

"Hunhun.." a yawn interrupted the little princess-"just tired…but fine" with a voice as loud as the whisper of a little mouse.

It didn't take long for them to get to Leona's room, and it took even less time for Yuu to trip on the carpet and hit the arm of the dresser next to the bed. Since when was that damn thing there? And then she threw herself on his spacious bed, still wearing her uniform and sneakers, and with makeup slightly smeared from the day's course on her face.

"Tsk… this herbivore."

The powerful and feared lion gently took off the girl's sneakers and placed her in a comfortable position, being careful not to wake her. And with the greatest care that hands made to destroy, he takes a cloth of warm water and delicately cleans Yuu's face of makeup, removing the excess mascara from her eyes, and the concealer that tried to hide the deep dark circles that were demonstrating the Yuu's exhaustion. Leona almost feels responsible for her tiredness, for her sadness, for not being able to help her enough, for not having been by her side when she deals with giants bigger than herself, for not having talked more about her carrying the world on her shoulders. That she is not alone.

And do you want to know the worst? That it wasn't the first time this was happening and it was getting more intense than before.

Leona was never one to believe in gods or be religious, but that night he prayed at the foot of the bed to whatever powerful being was in the heights, that he would always be by her side, that he would be strong enough to hold her. without trembling, so that one day she can be free and happy.

And when he went to lie down next to Yuu, he held her tight in her sleep, because at least in his arms she wouldn't have to deal with the threats of the world.

It was noon on Saturday morning when Yuu woke up from her more than deserved sleep, but she didn't have the strength to move enough and chose to sleep like a log for another 10 min…20…30… .. until her body decided it could become conscious.

By rubbing her eyes she tried to get used to the light in the place, or rather, the lack of light. Disoriented, she noticed that she wasn't in her precious Ramcharcle room, if she had been Grim would have woken her up for breakfast, meowing loudly until she had her tuna toast. She was then in….

"Good morning, princess." - said the gentle voice of the lion, he crossed the room and opened the curtains letting the sun shine. "How did sleeping beauty sleep?" he took the chance to get into bed with her

"Morning…" Yuu gave a heavy sigh and replied in a slightly worn voice, almost moaning from how refreshing the sleep was "Well…I slept well, my love. Did I give you trouble?"

"It's going to be trouble now" with a smile, Leona stood up and took her hand like a gentleman guiding her to the bathroom.

"Hey…I shower alone."

"This time you're going alone, but next time we'll be together" - he said with a damn smirk - "I have a gift for you"

At the entrance to the bathroom there was a beautiful gift basket. A basket with luxury skincare, recommended by the queen of Sunset Savanah herself and by a brand designed only for celebrities.

"Actually, I was going to give you this gift on our date next week. But my plans were advanced and today seems like a great opportunity." he smiled fondly and gave Yuu a kiss on the forehead before leaving to prepare something for her to eat.

The shower water was like a cold current that took away the thick layer of frustrations, fears, desires, and slowly brought the lightness of Yuu's heart, she smiled involuntarily when she saw that the basket's theme was for sleeping and relaxing, having exquisite notes of lavender and chamomile. He must be really worried. The body scrub renewed her skin, giving her a feeling of deep cleansing and freshness, and when she applied the shampoo and conditioner to her hair, she realized that it had been a long time since she had time to take care of herself with such patience. No spa day for days. No money for a new perfume. No time to take care of your body and mind. Even her nails, which were previously so vain and painted in different colors and interesting details, were bitten, she took out all her anxiety and stress on her nails, because what else could she do?

After a while in the bathroom, she came out and found a pair of clean, folded oversized pajamas on the bed. And she knew it was there for her, because Ruggie had perfected the lavender scent of the fabric softener, because Leona hates strong smells in his clothes.

"How do you feel? Do you want to sleep more?" Leona appeared at the bedroom door suddenly and approached Yuu.

"You arrived just in time, love. I'm just out of the shower" - Yuu wrapped her arms around the prince's waist, pulling him into a hug that was soon returned.

"We'll be eating in a bit. Ruggie is making your favorites and will bring them when ready."

"Great, now I'm going to comb my hair-"

"Nah nah nah bun, let me do it. Sit here." He said sitting on the bed, waiting for Yuu to sit in front of him. And she goes, used to his grooming.

You might think he wouldn't know how to take care of a person, and something as simple and intimate as combing someone else's hair could turn into a disastrous situation. But when it comes to Yuu, his partner, his mate, his equal, he makes a point of applying a cream first and massaging his princess's scalp, combing it with a comb designed for her hair, untangling the strands with tenderness and love. , mentally cursing the knots that dared to remain in Yuu's delicate mane.

How many times had Yuu done this for him in the dark and distressing days he had already gone through? And all he wants is to repay the love he received on a silver platter a thousand times over. Leos are very possessive of their mates, you know? An intense and protective love.

"Did you like the present?" he said, sniffing deeply Yuu's neck, inhaling the calming notes -" Farena's wife who recommendend this to me"

"Wow, what an honor that the queen personally chose my gift." she said laughing "But I did like it, just what I need at the moment."

"hey, I helped too. Don't give her all the credit."

"Oh yeah? And how did you help?"

"Saying whether it was approved or not, of course."

Yuu would comment further on this when he saw the strange pattern Leona was making in her hair.

"Hey baby, what are you doing?"

"I'm finishing your hair, it's like this, right? I researched your hair type online and saw that it's supposed to be styled like this."- If Vil saw this he would be horrified by Leona's messy hairstyle, but Yuu didn't care. This was because she was immensely grateful that her partner was taking care of her so well.

"Ow kitten, thank you." her heart was static, like a wound being healed little by little and it didn't hurt that much. "come here."

Yuu turned around and hugged the big cat, placing kisses on his cheek and mouth. "You're the best, love."

"Everything for you, darling." caressing her cheek and looking deep into the girl's eyes, he continued- "Just for you."

The moment was as delicate as a flower, vulnerable, two people healing each other through gestures and words, enjoying the calm and peaceful moment they hadn't had in days. And if the moment could last longer, it would, but a certain hyena had to enter just in time.

"Leona-sammm~ Yuu's lunch is here. Yuu, are you awake?"

Ruggie found Yuu sitting on the bed, smiling at him.

And Leona staring at him with a hateful face that said: "Don't you know how to hit, hyena?" with its tail wagging in annoyance, like a cat.

"How are you Yuu? This time you scared us so much shi shi shi~" he laughed in relief seeing that his friend, despite being tired, was recovering and left the snack on a small table next to the bed

"I'm getting better little by little… but I'm very hungry!" she said, getting up towards the table and enjoying the smell of the delicious food.

There were two sandwiches with shredded chicken, cheese and ham, lightly toasted, with a protein cream to accompany and two glasses of citrus juice.

Leona knew everything about Yuu and when he saw the eyes lit up by a simple food he knew that the plan had worked: Right at the beginning of their relationship, in a conversation about their childhood Yuu had confessed that her mother always made this sandwich when she was sick and tired to regain her energy, and always, always with a citrus juice to go with it.

He never forgot.

And he wants Yuu to know that even in her smallest details, he hasn't forgotten.

"Eat to your heart's content, we're going to need you tomorrow!" Leona immediately glared at Ruggie the moment he profaned those words.

"Uat weonna do?" with a voice full of food she asked

"Well, tomorrow will be-"

"There won't be anything Ruggie, let her rest. It's Sunday, she'll spend the day here." Leona roared quickly and to the point, wrapping an arm protectively around Yuu's waist.

"Ok ok relax, I'm joking bro shi shi shi~" covering his hand over his mouth he laughed softly, impressed as in any situation involving Yuu, Leona will show her claws to protect Yuu, that's a material for profocation later.

They spent the afternoon relaxing, he was sprawled out on Yuu's lap, while she responded to friends, comments, posts on her cell phone, laughing at her boyfriend's sarcastic comments, watching movies while eating popcorn, and when it was time to go to sleep, they were both cuddled up together, underneath with soft covers, in each other's arms whispering words of love.

"Thank you for today kitty, I felt like a spoiled little princess" she thanked the equally spoiled prince, who was currently having his ears stroked while listening to Yuu's heart, buried in her chest.

"Well, you better get used to it, from now on the treatment is real. And another thing, it doesn't scare me like that. If I see you working yourself to the bone, I'll ruin that crow's race myself."

The two laughed and when a comfortable silence reigned, he could only hear Yuu's breathing slowing down, calming down, and watching how her eyelids slowly became heavier, the good side of night vision.

"Hey Leona….." "Hmm?"

"…I love you" she approached and whispered incoherently with the sleep already taking over her body, on the lips of the lion prince who smiled and returned the kiss

"I love you too, my love." and with that his tail wrapped around Yuu's leg, pulling her closer. The stars are witnesses to this delicate romance, and between the purring of a lion and the slow massages of the princess's hair, the two got the rest they deserved.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

@nickson-lol I think you'll enjoy this <3

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