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angst-fairygodmother · 2 years

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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER 11: A NEW BEGINNING

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 3094 Rating: T - discussion of injury, canon typical language, angst, discussion of trauma A/N: Here it is: the final chapter, released on the one year anniversary of the beginning. It’s been a wild ride, and I want to say thank you so much to the people that have encouraged me and stuck with me the entire way. I love you, and I wouldn’t have gotten here without you. Don’t worry though, I’m not going to stop writing for them

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

After he woke up, it didn’t take long to determine that Derek had been extremely lucky. The bullet had managed to miss all of the most critical parts of his brain, the ones that affect organ function and basic movement, simple cognition, personality, even most of his long-term memory. You knew that didn’t mean that he was out of the woods, or that problems with those were guaranteed not to manifest as the years went on, but it was certainly a start that you were okay with. He was still himself, and that was really all that mattered.

Not long after that, began the arduous process of recovery. The first step was in the hospital, where the last remaining physical injuries were addressed, and the most basic side effects of treatment, the time spent on feeding tubes (and even earlier, ventilators) and laying unmoving in a hospital bed. He met with specialists and therapists and so many people came in and out that it was impossible to track. Then he moved to a long-term rehab facility for more recovery, for the combination of physical therapy and experimentation to find his new limits, and psychiatric care. And now finally, he was at the final step: going home.

“Derek? What's wrong man?” Sean asked, still waiting to offer his best friend a shoulder to lean on, literally for once, if he needed it.

“I can't leave,” he mumbled in answer, staring down at the floor.

The physical therapy had been intense, but had gotten Derek functional enough for discharge and referral to more out-patient services. Especially with Sean's help, he shouldn't be talking about the act of walking out of the rehab center. And you thought he'd be grateful to see an end to the drab gray-tinted walls, which were only a small step up from the hospital’s horrid beige. But you all had your struggles to move past recent events, and maybe, you thought, he was hesitant to leave behind what had become familiar and felt safe over the past few months.

“What are you talking about? Everything's set,” Sean's eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Thought you'd be racing to get out of here.”

“I got nowhere to go. I can't go back t'...my parents died in that house. I should have. I don't ever want to see it again.”

Sean glanced over at you guiltily. A frown tugged at your lips.

You felt your heart sink. Of course that was weighing on him. You had been so focused on getting him out, on returning to normal as if that would make everything magically better. You even paid out of your meager savings to have the building cleaned and repaired as best as could be done. But now that he said it, it seemed so obvious that that was a bullshit idea. Normal was lost, and that house was permanently haunted, or maybe cursed. None of you could go back, not really.

“Shit, I...didn’t think of that,” Sean mumbled, tugging at his curls. “I don’t really have room at my place but maybe Isobel--”

Derek was already shaking his head, cutting him off. “No way man. She’s already had to do enough taking care of me, when I’m supposed to be the one looking out for her. Besides, I don’t wanna crash with my little sister and her boyfriend. I’ll just find–”

“Don’t be stupid,” you interrupted with a shrug as both of them turned to look at you. “Obviously, you’ll come stay with me. It’s not like you don’t already have a toothbrush, or a drawer full of shit you left behind all the time anyway.”

Sean turned bright red, and you rolled your eyes.

“You sure you wouldn’t mind it?” Derek asked hesitantly. “I don’t–”

“If you are about to call yourself a burden, I will punch you. I have been by your side through all of this by choice. Besides, when have I ever offered something I didn’t want to do?”

“But–”

“Oh no, the horror. I have to share a small, intimate living space with my boyfriend. Pure torture. What ever will I do?” your voice dripped with pure sarcasm.

“Before he actually suggests what you should do,” Sean cut in with a pointed look. “Is that what’s happening?”

Derek looked at you for a long moment, face soft and thoughtful. You smiled back, heart racing for some reason, and hoped that your expression was more reassuring than you felt.

“Okay,” he said finally. “At least for now. Let’s just get outta here.”

You picked up the small duffle bag of clothes and personal items that had accumulated over his stay. “Great. Lunch at Nino’s first?”

“I don’t think he’ll forgive me if I say no,” Derek answered.

“Not me,” Sean added. “I can get you there, but I…have to meet someone later. And don’t want to be third-wheeling your Lady and the Tramp moment anyway.”

Immediately, you and Derek honed in on ‘meet someone’ and tried to question Sean further, wondering if he finally had a date and was moving on from Riley, but he refused to say, and threatened even to leave you stranded there, if you didn’t stop. So, laughing and making note to press again later, you let it go, settling into the backseat of the stupid orange station wagon (that Sean had for whatever reason decided to put back on the road, and somehow managed to pass the inspection to do so) for the short drive to the restaurant.

That night, you awkwardly insisted on sleeping on the couch, though you weren’t sure why. And then, you found yourself still staring, wide awake, at the ceiling at 3am, getting up to pace small circles around the apartment. Eventually your anxious steps brought you to the bedroom doorway. A strange fear clenched at your throat as you peeked in at Derek, sleeping almost as restlessly as you weren’t.

You turned to go, arm brushing the door and making it shift slightly. You weren’t sure if it was just enough to make a noise you didn’t notice or if it was coincidence that made Derek cry out at the same moment. You whipped around, heart racing with panic, to find him sitting upright in bed, clutching at his head.

“Y/N?” he croaked hoarsely after a moment, “that you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Did I wake you?” you murmured, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

“No.”

You crossed the rest of the distance and sat on the edge of the bed, his knee brushing your hip. Ducking your head, you scanned his face with concern in the dim moonlight. His brow was furrowed and his cheeks were shiny and wet with tear tracks.

“It was just a nightmare. Sat up too fast,” he assured you, meeting your gaze. “What were you doing?”

“I...don’t know. I couldn’t sleep. So I was pacing. And then I guess something told me to check on you?”

You didn’t tell him what the something was, that your mind had nagged that he wasn’t really there, would never be, would disappear and be gone and you’d be alone again. How could you, when it would just make him feel guilty or worry about you, and that was the last thing he needed. After all, it wasn’t like he tried to get attacked, and he had fought odds to come back to you already.

“You wouldn’t have to check on me if you just slept here, you know.”

“I don’t want you to feel smothered though,” you repeated the argument you’d made earlier, that at least for the transition, it would be better for him to sleep in the bed alone and get used to the space before adding in another element. But it felt weak then, and weaker now.

“I won’t.”

“But–”

“Baby girl,” he sighed, reaching out. On instinct you moved forward, leaning into his hold. “I don’t want to pressure you, I would never. But it might be better for both of us if you just came to bed, where you belong.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a sudden sob that threatened to wrench its way out of your throat. He was right. Right there, with his arms around you, holding you like he had done so many nights before all this, was the first time things felt like they were supposed to in a long time. All of your fear seemed to melt away with the smell of him, the sound of his heart beating beneath your ear, the feel of his skin on yours.

“I…okay,” you said softly. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.” He shifted over to make more room in the bed so that you could slot yourself in.

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll still be here in the morning.” You felt stupid saying it, but Derek had always been a morning person, and going to sleep beside him but waking up alone might drive you over the edge you felt yourself teetering on. “Or wake me up before you get up.”

He pulled you down so that you were both lying down, limbs tangled together in a familiar shape, and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Yes, I do.”

He was silent for a moment and you thought that he might have fallen back asleep that quickly, and then he hummed in understanding. You snuggled closer, pressing into him as much as you comfortably could and sighed, finally. You thought you could feel the tension leaking out of him, having you there settling something in him that couldn’t be explained, but you felt the same.

“Do you think it’ll feel like this forever?” he asked after another long silence.

“What?” you frowned. “Being glad to hold each other? Or feeling like we need to?”

“Like none of it’s real.”

“Oh. I hope not…”

“I won’t be mad if I have to keep doin this forever though.”

You laughed, murmuring your agreement. There were certainly worse outcomes than spending the rest of your life snuggling Derek.

Eventually, you settled into a routine. You finally started your job, at a small personal injury firm you could already tell wouldn’t be forever, but it fit for now, and Derek used work around the apartment as part of his exercises. Weeks passed and he started to branch out more, going back to Nino’s as a busser, and a sort of apprenticeship with the chef a few days at a time. His appointments gradually decreased, and you almost convinced yourself that everything was perfect.

But he still had days that hit hard: some where flashbacks would trap him in bed for hours, or leave him shaking too badly to even button a pair of jeans or drink a glass of water; others that were more physical, progress that felt more like a step backwards, or two or three. And then he would get frustrated, angry, depressed.

“You’re not an inconvenience, Derek,” you said on one night like that, after he had finished berating himself and screaming out everything that felt wrong. “And if I didn’t want you here, I’d kick you out.”

“But I’m so fucking useless. I ain’t contributing to the rent or the groceries, and I’m just breakin shit. How do you not hate me yet?”

“I could never. Besides, it’s not like it’s forever. You’ll finish with physical therapy and get your feet back under you and then…” you trailed off, realizing you didn’t know what would happen.

Even though you were going on six months of it, part of you still thought the arrangement was temporary. But you found yourself feeling miserable at the idea of going back to having an apartment to yourself, to not waking up next to Derek every morning or watching — and doing your best at helping — him cook dinner on good nights (which were growing more and more frequent to both your delight, even if tonight wasn’t one of them).

You bit your lip as you searched for an ‘and then’ that didn’t hurt to say.

“I’ll get a job, be able to help out more, and we’ll get a place together.”

Oh. Your heart raced that he wanted to take that step with you. “Oh.”

“We can do all that cute shit from the movies, like buy...dish towels.”

“I already have perfectly good dish towels. It’s not like they’re part of this place.”

“I know, but…” he looked uncertain, like he was beginning to think he’d said something wrong.

You walked over, resting your weight on your knees on the couch cushions to either side of his legs and catching his face between your hands. Gently, you rested your forehead against his so that you were looking him in the eyes.

“But if I have to sacrifice them to make a home with you, I’m okay with that,” you murmured, smiling softly.

His answering grin would have been blinding, if it didn’t disappear so quickly as he kissed you. You let yourself sink into him, sighing against his lips as he pulled you closer.

“How do you always do that?” he breathed when you broke apart.

“Do what?” you frowned at him in confusion, tilting your head slightly to the side.

“Know exactly what to do or say. Make me feel better, no matter what.”

You shrugged. “Just luck, or if you believe in it, the universe making sure we’re stuck with each other forever.”

“It doesn’t need to. Why would I want to give up the best thing that ever happened to me?”

You laughed, shaking your head and shifting to be more comfortable, though he kept true to his word and refused to let you go. “You’re such a sap.”

“But, I’m yours.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You sighed, practically collapsing onto the living room floor, leaning back against a stack of boxes that had yet to be unpacked.

“We don’t have this much stuff, how are there so many boxes?” you asked.

Derek chuckled from the kitchen where he was sorting the Chinese takeout he’d just gone to pick up. “I’m pretty sure like eighty percent of those are your books, baby girl.”

“Hey! Don’t be so mean! I donated a bunch of them, and all my stupid stacks of textbooks, so…no more than fifty percent,” you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him as he passed you a carton of lo mein and sat down beside you.

“Still made the boxes damn heavy when Sean and I were carrying em in.”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me help.”

“I don’t want you gettin hurt.”

“I can take care of myself. And you two shouldn’t be getting hurt either. We’ve had enough of that for a lifetime, thank you.”

“I know. Trust me.” He pressed a slightly greasy kiss to your cheek and you made an exaggerated disgusted face as you tried to wipe it away.

You both relaxed, leaning into one another while you ate in silence.

“This is crazy, right?” you asked shortly after you had both set your food aside, leaning your cheek against his shoulder and looking up into his face.

“What is?” he frowned, wrapping an arm around you to pull you even closer.

“All of this. Us. Getting a place together.”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, awkwardly bouncing your head. “Gettin through everything to get here was nuts, sure. But…”

“Did you…think about this? Before I mean? That’d we live together someday?” you felt your heart stutter, somehow surprised by the revelation.

He chuckled uncomfortably, face reddening as he turned his head away from you. You couldn’t help but smile, finding it adorable that he was getting nervous and shy around you. “Yeah. Maybe. Once or twice. Didn’t you?”

“I–” you started to answer that you hadn’t, not for not wanting it, but out of fear, and froze.Your mind wandered to all of the mornings (or on very lucky weekends, early afternoons) waking up with his arms around you, or to the smell of fresh coffee he was setting on the nightstand, to the number of times you’d thought about him coming over after work as “coming home,” to this moment right here.

“Y/N?” Derek rubbed his fingers across your shoulder comfortingly, trying to get your attention gently.

You started, smiling sheepishly at him when you returned to the moment.

“You okay babe?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip, frowning slightly. “Just thinking. I thought I hadn’t really thought about it, but I think I did, a lot more than I thought, and didn’t realize it.”

Derek stared at you for a moment, blinking owlishly. “What?” he laughed. “That makes no goddamn sense, even without all this,” he gestured to the scarring on his temple.

You shook your head dismissively. “Forget about it. I was just getting tangled in my own thoughts is all.”

“Alright.”

He shifted so that your head was resting over his heart instead of on his shoulder, tucked beneath his chin, and you wrapped your arms around his middle. You both half-laid there, looking around at the space, at the towers of totes and crates and other packing materials, carefully arranged for a compromise between access and stability, each imagining what it would look like when you were through the arduous task of putting everything in its place. Luckily, you were familiar with works in progress, and could easily see the promise of the future that the space held. You felt your eyelids drooping, the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath your ear lulling you and smiled softly. For once, you had everything you could ever want or need, right there beside you.

“I love you Derek,” you mumbled through a yawn.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he answered, kissing your brow. “Time for bed?”

“No. Not yet,” you protested. “I want to enjoy this for another minute. Who knows when we’ll have it like this again.”

He pulled you closer to being in his lap, making the boxes you were leaning on wobble unsteadily and you cast them a wary sidelong look before they settled. “I’m not complainin for sure.”

You couldn’t be sure what the morning would bring. If things with Cale Erendreich had taught you anything, it was not to take a single moment for granted. But you knew that whatever it was, come hell or high water, or horse-obsessed billionaire assholes, you would make it through together, and come out stronger on the other side. And what more could you ask for?

#I had hoped I'd get it to the minute but I barely made the day instead...oops #there are also some spots of...unintended emotions but they fit nicely so it's fine #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x Reader #fix it fic #Bad Samaritan fic #honestly more of an epilogue or series of short ones than one final chapter

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seanfalco · 3 years

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Common Stupid Thieves

Sean Falco x Reader // Platonic!Derek & Reader

Prompt: I would like to request a Sean fic where the reader is a fellow criminal who’s in on the valet scam (or another scam of your invention). I think it would be hot to drive around in fast cars doing mischief with him. Hehe 😎 💕 Please and thank you! You’re the best! Requested by: @badsext Warning(s): Language, Recreational Drug Use, Criminal activities, Infidelity Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Aaaaaa, I was so excited when I got this prompt because I’ve been wanting to write something with a fellow criminal reader for a while now, but just didn’t know what I wanted to do, but this gave me the perfect excuse to think about it more. There will be two parts.

01. |

“Hey dog!” Derek greeted, joining Sean at the valet podium, a wide grin on his face as he sidled up next to his friend.

“Hey, man,” Sean replied, rubbing his hands together against the cold, his breath misting in the brisk night air. Autumn had already descended on Portland and the nights were swiftly growing colder as the leaves turned colour.

“What?” Sean asked, recognizing the pensive look on his friend’s face as if he had something to say and Derek held his hands up in innocence.

“Nothin’ bro,” he exclaimed, chuckling slightly, but Sean merely arched a thick brow at him until Derek finally cracked. “Okay, okay. Actually, I have somethin’ I wanted to run by you.”

“See, I knew it,” Sean laughed, his head falling back in amusement, his gaze taking in the starts overhead for a brief moment before refocusing on his friend and business partner.

“Yeah, yeah, you know me too well,” Derek muttered before jumping into his story. “Look, I got this friend, okay, and she needs a job…” he began, Sean cutting him off.

“No. No fuckin’ way.”

“What, no man, c’mon—” Derek argued.

“No, you come on!” We’d have t’start splittin’ th’tips three ways when business is already slow. Besides, what about our little side venture? How are we gunna keep that a secret?” he exclaimed, his voice dropping to a rushed whisper. “How do we know we can trust this person? I don’t like it, man,” he said, shaking his head.

“Aw no, man, she can be trusted,” Derek insisted, pulling Sean aside, away from the valet stand. “I’ve known [y/n] since we were kids. She’s good people and she ain’t no snitch. She could be a real asset, dog.”

Sean heaved a breath, deliberating. He trusted Derek, and if Derek trusted this [y/n] enough to vouch for her, then Sean would give her the benefit of the doubt. He just hoped it wouldn’t bite them in the arse later.

“...Alright,” he sighed, turning his face toward his friend.

“What, really?” Derek asked excitedly, his grin returning, brightening his face. “Oh man, you are not gunna regret this! Just think of how many more places we can hit a night with a three man crew! It’s gunna be great.”

“Yeah, so you keep tellin’ me,” Sean laughed, rolling his eyes as a car pulled up to the curb.

“Hey Sean, can you take this one? I wanna call [y/n] and tell her the good news,” Derek exclaimed, already pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah, alright,” Sean called over his shoulder.

“You’re gunna love her, man!”

——

It was your first night valeting at Nino’s, Derek really having come through for you on the job thing, your last one didn’t really pan out, but at least this one seemed like it’d be easy enough, from what he’d told you.

Shoving your hands in your coat pockets against the cold, you approached the valet podium at the curb, your friend nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall slender man with a mop of unruly dark curls stood guard out front, shifting from foot to foot as he looked down at his phone, a small smile lingering on his lips.

Sensing your presence, he gave a start, quickly pocketing his phone and flashing you a proper smile. “Hello, welcome t’Nin-ohh,” he cut off, realizing you weren’t a customer, taking in your identical white dress shirt and green jacket.

“Hey,” you greeted, offering him a sheepish grin.

“You must be [y/n],” he guessed, taking your hand to shake firmly.

“That’s me,” you replied, gripping his hand just as firmly, meeting his moss green eyes. “And you must be Sean.”

“[y/n]! Hey, you’re here!” Derek called as he approached, cutting Sean off before he could respond. “Looks like you two already got acquainted.”

“Yep, we uhm, we met,” you murmured, feeling Sean’s eyes on you as you turned to Derek.

“Awesome,” Derek exclaimed, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “This is gunna be great!”

It wasn’t long before your first customer drove up and Derek had Sean show you where the valet lot was around the block.

“See? Easy peasy,” Sean exclaimed as you parked the car.

“Easy peasy,” you agreed, wondering if you should bring up the questions you had about the other part of the job.

“The next local customer we get, we’ll go together and I’ll show you th’ropes,” he said, sensing your unvoiced questions.

“Alright,” you nodded, following suit as he got out of the car.

Walking back to the front of the restaurant, you buzzed with excitement, and instead, a different question sprung to your lips.

“So, how long have you known Derek?”

Sean’s brows furrowed in thought. “Since my family moved to th’area, about seven years ago.”

“Where were you from originally?” you asked, unable to quite keep your eyes from returning to his distractingly handsome face.

“Originally, Dublin,” he chuckled — that explained the accent — “but when my dad split, my mum and I moved to th’states. Then when she married my stepdad he decided to move us all across th’country t’start a construction company out here that went belly up in less than a year,” he scoffed, glancing over at you.

“What about you? How long have you known Derek?” he countered.

“Since middle school,” you answered, grinning as you remembered all the shenanigans the pair of you had gotten into — it seemed you were soon to continue that legacy, though this time you really didn’t wanna get caught.

“There you guys are, took you long enough!” Derek exclaimed.

“Oh ha ha,” you muttered, shoving his shoulder lightly as you joined him behind the valet stand, standing near the tall glass encased heater to banish the chill that had taken hold as you walked back from the parking lot.

“Sean has a girlfriend, by the way, so no funny business, [y/n],” he whispered, noticing the way your gaze kept seeking the handsome Irishman out.

“Yeah, so?” you snorted softly, so Sean wouldn’t overhear, only for Derek to jab you in the ribs with his elbow.

“I mean it, [y/n], don’t meddle,” he hissed, all traces of levity gone from his face.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed an indignant sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But if he makes a move on me, I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist,” you teased, only half serious. Anyone who turned that down, girlfriend or no, would be a bloody fool.

“Yeah, like that would happen,” Derek snorted and your mouth fell open.

“Gee thanks,” you scoffed indignantly, a little hurt that your friend didn’t think you had a chance.

“[y/n], don’t be like that,” he laughed, nudging you again, this time playfully. “Riley’s a good girl and Sean’s head over heels for her.”

“Good for her,” you muttered, turning away to check your phone, trying not to sound too jealous.

To pass the time between customers, you recounted stories to Sean of yours and Derek’s teenage years, Derek cutting in every now and then to correct you, or deny his involvement; joking around. Every time you managed to make Sean laugh, you counted it as a win.

Before long, a flashy SUV pulled up and Sean climbed into the driver’s seat as the couple handed him the keys before heading into the restaurant, leaving their vehicle in your capable hands.

“Looks like their place is only a couple blocks away,” Sean announced, poking through their built-in GPS and you shared a grin, quickly jumping into the passenger seat.

“We’ll be right back,” he exclaimed, winking at Derek.

“Uh huh, don’t have too much fun now,” Derek teased back, flashing a wide grin at the pair of you.

For a moment, as he accelerated, the motor revving to life, you were reminded of the scene in Ferris Bueller when the two valets flew over the hill in his friend’s dad’s car to the Star Wars theme, taking it for a little joy ride.

“Okay, so, some ground rules so we don’t get caught,” Sean began, pulling you from your thoughts and you turned to give him your full attention. “One, no stealin’ anything from the vehicles themselves, pretty self explanatory. They notice anythin’ missin’ from here, it’s the easiest thing t’tie back to us,” he explained.

“Got it. What’s two?” you asked with a nod.

“Two, we only go t’houses that are in th’neighborhood. We can’t afford a long drive if we wanna make it back before their meal’s done. Get in, get out, quickly.”

“Simple enough, you agreed.

“And three,” Sean said as he pulled into the couple’s driveway, using their garage door opener as your way in— “only take things they won’t notice, or at least not right away.”

“Okay, like jewelry, small electronics, cash… gotcha,” you murmured, unbuckling. “What if they have an alarm system?”

“Then we turn around and go back. The goal is t’not get caught. There’ll be other houses, other opportunities. Don’t get greedy.”

Nodding, you got out and tried the door to the house, finding it unlocked, though you weren’t all that surprised, most people didn’t usually lock the door inside their garage — what’s the point when your garage door’s shut tight?

“I’m in,” you announced as the door swung open, managing to pull an amused snort from your curly haired partner.

“C’mon, let’s see what goodies are waitin’ for us,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows at you before rushing up the stairs ahead of you and into the house.

“Damn, these people are loaded,” you murmured in awe, trailing behind Sean and letting your gaze travel their living room. The flat screen hanging over the mantle would’ve completely dwarfed your tiny apartment.

“Yeah, most of th’people that come t’Nino’s are,” Sean murmured, setting to work, sweeping the place for valuables.

Sneaking into their bedroom, you hit the jackpot as you threw open the door to their walk in closet. ”What d’you think?” you asked, turning to Sean as you pulled a skimpy black negligee from the rack and held it in front of your body.

For a moment Sean’s mouth worked silently, his face turning pink before your eyes and you couldn’t help the pleased grin that stole across your lips, wondering if he was imagining you in it.

“Lady’s got good taste,” he said, clearing his throat before awkwardly pointing toward the vanity. “Let’s, uh, look in there,” he suggested and you snorted, hanging the outfit back up and following him over.

“Did I fluster you?” you asked, smirking at him out of the corner of your eye as you picked through the jewelry that looked least worn.

“No,” Sean exclaimed quickly, avoiding your gaze, though it seemed like his face flushed deeper, even in the dim light. “I’m gunna go check out the bathroom,” he announced suddenly, hurrying off and you fought back a laugh, though you wished he’d flirt back a little.

Getting back to work, you snagged a pair of expensive designer shoes and a large handbag — it would fetch a pretty good price on ebay. Stuffing the heels and the necklaces into the purse, you met back up with Sean in the kitchen.

“You find anything?” you asked and Sean held up a sliver watch as well as a handful of loose change. “Pocket change?” you exclaimed, fighting back a laugh. “And here I thought you were a hardened criminal, Sean Falco.”

Sean rolled his eyes, slipping the change into his pocket. “I wouldn’t say hardened, I just wanna make things a little easier on my bank account. Bein’ a starvin’ artist ain’t as glamorous as it seems,” he snorted sarcastically, heading back toward the garage as he checked his phone, Derek texting to let you know you were in the clear yet.

“You’re an artist?” you asked curiously, climbing back into the borrowed SUV and Sean opened the garage door, backing out into the street.

“Photographer,” he clarified, his eyes flicking over to you.

“Really? What do you take pictures of?”

“Oh, a little bit of everything,” he replied, smiling to himself. “People, places, anything that catches my eye. I like things with personality,” he explained.

“I’d love to see your work sometime,” you mused.

“Yeah, course,” Sean exclaimed, clearing his throat quickly and returning his eyes to the road, though you could have sworn a dusting of pink had returned to his cheeks as the light from a streetlamp lit up his face.

“Bet your girlfriend likes being your model,” you ventured quietly after a long moment, wanting to see how he reacted.

“No, actually—” Sean began before frowning. “How did you know I have a girlfriend?”

“Derek told me.”

“Oh, right,” he said, shaking his head slightly, his lips twitching downward.

“What does she do?” you asked, unable to curb your curiosity.

“She’s a business major.”

“Ah,” you replied shortly and Sean glanced at you curiously.

“What’s that s’posed t’mean?” he asked, amusement tinging his voice.

“Nothin’,” you teased, grinning over at him. “Just sounds boring to me,” you answered honestly. How much do you even have in common? you wondered, not voicing that query.

“Honestly… kinda,” Sean chuckled, rolling his shoulders.

“Doesn’t she know about… this?” you asked hesitantly, gesturing to the stolen items at your feet.

“This?” Sean yelped incredulously, turning back into the valet lot. “No, she doesn’t know about this,” he answered tensely.

“So… what now?” you asked, sensing Sean’s discomfort at your question and quickly changing the subject.

“Now… now we stow the stuff in our cars and go meet back up with Derek.”

“So, how did baby’s first run go?” your friend asked cheekily when you returned, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement, wearing a shit eating grin as he dodged your punch aimed at his bicep.

“She did good,” Sean answered before you could, and the compliment took you by surprise, filling your face with warmth.

“See, what I tell you?” Derek exclaimed.

——

Before you knew it a couple months had flown by and you were making runs by yourself now; you, Sean, and Derek doing fairly well for yourselves with your little side business. Sure, there were nights when you came back nearly empty handed, but it beat not working at all, and the money from the valet stand was enough to get by on. Besides, the best part was getting to hang out with your friends every night. During that time, you’d grown rather close to Sean, the two of you beginning to spend more time together outside of work.

“You really need to find a new place,” you laughed as you plopped down at one of the plastic chairs flanking Sean’s tiny table.

“Wha—? What’s wrong with it?” Sean exclaimed, feigning offense as he took the chair across from you and passing you the lit joint between his fingers, his lips twitching into a bemused grin as he watched you.

“What’s wrong with it?” you cried, teasingly, gesturing with your arm toward the wall nearest you. “There’s fuckin’ holes in your walls!”

“Hey, I patched… most of ‘em!” he countered. “You’ve gotta admit, it’s got character!”

“Is that what you call it?” you cackled, breaking into laughter as you waved the smoke from your face. “I suppose it does suit your starving artist aesthetic,” you teased, glancing at him coyly, feeling your cheeks warm as he shared your grin, his long fingers brushing yours as he stole the joint back.

Unable to look away as he brought the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply, your thoughts spiraled, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him as silence fell over the cramped flat.

“So… I have somethin’ I need to confess,” Sean spoke up, jolting you from your thoughts and you quickly tore your eyes from his mouth. “I was a little worried when Derek suggested bringin’ you onto th’team,” he admitted, not quite meeting your eyes. “But honestly, it’s been one of th’best things we’ve done,” he said, flicking the line of ash from the end of the dwindling joint.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, arching a curious brow at him. “Why were you worried? Thought I’d be a liability?” you half teased.

“Yeah, kinda,” Sean answered sheepishly, causing you to snort, laughter bubbling from your lips to lighten the room.

“Can’t say I blame you,” you admitted, taking another hit as he offered it to you. “Did Derek ever tell you why he trusts me so much?” you asked, glancing over to catch Sean’s eye.

“He didn’t, but I figured there had t’be a reason for his unwavering confidence though,” he said, his words making you smile.

“When we were in middle school,” you begin, settling in to recount your story, leaning back against the wall behind you. “Derek and I weren’t bad kids, per se, I mean, not like his brothers, but we did get into trouble from time to time. There was one day, we were graffiting the side of a rail car down by the tracks, y’know, just a little harmless vandalism,” you said, your lips curling wryly.

“Well, apparently there was a cop nearby and he caught sight of us. So we threw our spray cans down and made a break for it. We probably would’ve gotten away but I tripped over one of the tracks, and busted my knee open,” you explained, shaking your head. “I told Derek to go on without me cause we had some stolen shit in our pockets from earlier and I didn’t want him t’get in trouble for it too.”

“What happened?” Sean asked.

“He didn’t like it, but Derek took off like I told him to and I let the cop catch up to me so he’d have a chance to get away.”

“But he’d seen Derek?”

“Yeah, from a distance, but I just kept denying there was anyone else with me, so there wasn’t really anything they could do about it,” you shrugged.

“You took th’fall and kept him outta juvie?”

“Mhmm.”

“No wonder Derek trusts you,” he murmured, awe in his voice.

“I don’t rat on my friends,” you said simply, crushing the rest of the blunt out in the ashtray between you.

Sean nodded before you heard his stomach growl loudly. “Oh shit, I’m starvin’,” he groaned, holding his belly as you descended into laughter, holding your own gut. “You want somethin’? I think I have some frozen chicken strips or somethin’ in here,” he mused, getting up to check the icebox.

Following him over to the tiny kitchen, you peered in the freezer with him. “Chicken strips sound bomb.”

“Grand,” Sean chuckled, pulling the bag out and dumping the contents onto an oven sheet while you turned on the oven and leaned against the counter next to him.

“So… where’s Riley?” you asked, reluctant to bring her up, but it hadn’t escaped your attention that she hadn’t been around much lately.

“Oh, she’s busy with classwork,” he replied, turning to lean against the counter next to you. “I think she has some big midterm project she’s workin’ on. Why?”

“I just thought it was weird you hadn’t been hanging out much,” you explained, carefully, realizing how close you were. “But I’m not complainin’,” you murmured, your hand inching closer to touch his. “I like spending time with you…”

“I like spendin’ time with you too, [y/n],” Sean mused, slowly leaning closer, as if a spell had fallen over the pair of you, til his breath fanned across your lips moments before they pressed chastely to yours.

Not fighting it, you tangled your fingers in his jumper, pulling him closer as you kissed him back and to your delight his lips moved against yours with a soft moan and you felt the edge of the counter bite into your back. It was as if all the tension between you had finally come to a head—every coy little glance and furtive touch, all the inside jokes and nights spent texting late into the morning hours were finally leading where you’d hoped.

Moaning in turn as your tongue sought his, Sean suddenly tensed, the bubble bursting as he pulled away. “What are we doin’?” he exclaimed breathlessly, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this—“

“Why not?” you asked desperately, though you already knew the answer. “Sean, I-I really like you, and I think you feel the same way, that kiss obviously proved that—“

“I—” Sean hesitated, his face clearly conflicted. “—but Riley,” he exclaimed, shaking his head, his curls shivering. “I love her, I can’t do this t’her.”

“You can’t even be honest with her!” you cried, the words bursting from you, unable to hold them back any longer. “You’re afraid to tell her about what you do because you know she’d judge you for it!”

For a moment Sean blinked at you, his mouth hanging open as if unable to come up with an argument. “You… you don’t know anything about it,” he snapped finally, setting his face. “I think you should probably leave, [y/n].”

His words felt like a slap to the face and you staggered backward. “Y-yeah… I’ll—” The hushed words died on your tongue and you stumbled toward the door, looking back at him as you stepped out into the blinding daylight outside. Sean wouldn’t even look at you.

Had you just fucked up beyond repair?

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

Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle @santacarlahorrorshow @messengeronthemoon @the-freckled-luba @firstpersonnarrator @phoenixhits @super-unpredictable98 @spanishmossmagnolia @salvador-daley @forenschik @a-ghoulish-tale @love-is-dirty-baby @vonkimmeren @darkheartbrightsmile @violetrainbow412-blog @bellelittleoff @simsiddy @duck-noises

#sean falco #sean falco x reader #bad samaritan #bad samaritan fic #derek sandoval #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan #my writing #prompt request #badsext

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 2 years

Text

Wild Horses

(Sean Falco x F!Reader)

word count- 3500 (I'm on a damn roll!)

warnings- slight mention of torture, angst, episodes of PTSD, swearing, mentions of murder, oral sex (fem!receiving), penetrative sex

a/n- Sean wants to take you on a picnic at a scenic mountain overlook, but your horse and Mother Nature have other plans in mind. For @sheehanksgiving using the prompts "Sean helps you out of your wet clothes" and "hand-holdy sex" Gif by @sealotter

There was nothing in this world that had you believing Sean Falco would ever want to ride a horse.

“You don't have to do this,” you reassured him.

Flashes of the sensational trial of Cale Ehrendreich crossed your mind. The pictures of women, 20 when the dust settled, in various stages of horse tack. The trophy photos of blondes in bridles and horse bits. The one in particular Sean had accidentally taken of Katie Hopgood, Cale’s lone survivor.

The way the defense attorney tried to pin it on Sean and Derek who couldn't even defend himself being Cale’s final victim. You remembered watching Sean come undone at the seams. How his meddling and criminal masterminding leads to the murders of the Sandoval family.

That was the point your dad let out a laugh. He couldn't help it. You and your mom with tears in your eyes could only stare at him. “Criminal mastermind?! His face is all over the security cameras, and he walked into the FBI and confessed to being a petty thief.”

Still, you knew his heart had softened the way most people did for the Irishman. He was a polarizing figure: should he be punished for larceny, grand theft auto and breaking and entering? Should Sean be forgiven his sins because he, quite literally, stumbled on the most prolific serial killer of the 21st century?

But you knew him. Knew Sean Falco’s heart. Had for years. He was a survivor. And all he wanted was to find solace away from the public eye and to heal in the mountains. Was it ironic? Yes, but his therapist encouraged him. And just to spite his post-trauma brain, the ex-thief was thriving.

You strapped the saddle under the mare’s belly and felt a sting of jealousy when Sean’s phone buzzed. It dissipated when he visibly trembled at the vibration.

You knew it was Katie. Always Katie. Sweet, fragile, resilient Katie. They texted or spoke at all hours, but gradually less so since Sean had come here. Their co-dependence was slowly waning as Sean spent more time with you or taking photographs again. That and she was pregnant with a little boy.

“We want to name him after you and Derek,” she said over Facetime. The smile on her face finally reached her eyes in the time you got to know her. Katie would persevere. Her hand on her swollen stomach, “You saved me so that I could have him.”

And you would never understand his nightmares or headaches that blinded him from the injuries he sustained during their final hours with Cale. You held him in your arms when he woke up screaming, but Katie was the one he would text. A bond forged in trauma could not be broken.

“Crikey, I don't know the first t’ing about babies! Why’s she asking me?!” He held up his phone with two photos of cribs: one round and one square.

“Round. Then the baby doesn't have corners to roll into when he gets older.” You took Sean's phone and texted exactly what you said. Then stuffed the phone in his pocket. “No more. This is supposed to be a date. I’d love a threesome, but with a girl of my choice.

Sean rolled his eyes. “Fine! What should I do?” The longer he stood next to the horse, the more comfortable he seemed to become. His shoulders visibly relaxed.

You rolled your eyes and grinned. “First get your left foot in the stirrup, steady yourself on the horse and pull up. Then swing your leg over her backside.” You shrugged, “Easy.”

“Very,” he was skeptical.

“Go on,” you playfully swatted him on the butt. “Then we can get going. We've got to hit the summit by early afternoon so we aren't stuck in the dark on the way back home.”

Sean complied and you followed suit settling on the oversized saddle in front of him. You teased, told him to put his hands around your waist. To hold on to your hips or you. You realized he was vibrating with anxiety, so you let your body mold into him.

You gave a light kick to the horse’s haunches, and she started off. You let her meander at a pace between slow and leisurely. Sean's grip tightening every time the beast moved faster than he anticipated. His face is somewhat lost in your hair. Yet the further up you went, the more relaxed he became. It intrigued you.

You pointed out different trails and their odd history, but Sean stayed rather silent on your ride. Instinct told you he was lost in contemplation. Instinct also told you the air had changed. An electricity coursed through it, and the sky began to grey. The horse grew uneasy beneath you, but it was so subtle Sean was oblivious.

You tried to pick up the pace without drawing attention to yourself. Sean’s grip on your waist loosened. He moved your hair away from your neck and kissed it. He exposed your bare shoulder to do the same until his lips met under your ear. His embrace changed with hands that roamed under your oversized sweater to brush your stomach. He kissed your neck again.

“Sean,” you tried to chide him. His name left you in a soft moan.

“Oh I can't help it, sweetheart. It's these woods. They're different than,” he paused. His face lost in your hair again.

“It's gonna rain,” was all you could say in return. “You can tell by the air pressure. It's all staticy.”

“That's not just us?” Sean teased.

He took your chin and turned it back towards him. His tongue lingered on your lips before darting inside your mouth. Your grip on the bridle strap tightened and the horse responded with a buck. Sean's entire demeanor changed instantly.

His hold turned to vice-like. You squirmed and so did the horse. Then the skies opened up and it began to rain. There was a crack of a thunder whip, and the horse started to prance. She reared a few inches off the ground.

“Sean!” you hollered over the roar of the rain. He was desperately clawing at you. His eyes were glazed over. You knew he was somewhere else only Katie understood.

“Sean, look at me!” His eyes focused. “If she rears all the way up, you HAVE to let go ok? I'm going to turn us around. There's a cabin nearby that belongs to us. Will you be ok?”

He nodded and you veered off course towards the cabin.

-----

You took the horse into the empty barn that once housed a host of animals. You situated the mare in a stable and ran to the house with Sean behind you.

“Once we get the generator going, we can use the dryer. If you want, we can stay the night. We have clean robes and tow-”

There was a thud. Sean had dropped his messenger bag on the porch. He was crouched towards the floor with his long arms hugging his knees to his chest.

“No no no. I can't. I can't go in. Please. Please don't make me. She's in there. They're in there. Please.”

“Sean?”

You caught the wood pile in the corner and remembered the photos of Cale’s cabin in the Oregon national park. Your heart softened to his tears. Sean’s voice grew more panicked and louder.

“It's ok. Sean. It's not like that inside. I promise. There's a tv and shag carpeting and gauche furniture from the seventies. We have a hundred terrible DVDs, and a hand carved bed. But you have to trust me.”

You reached to rub his back, but he slapped your hand away. “Don't touch me!”

“Fine! I was just trying to help! Just come inside so you don't catch your death. It’s meant to frost tonight.”

Sean started laughing. It was maniacal, but he flinched when you tried to help him up. “Darlin’ everyone around me dies. I've tried though, but I can't catch fucking death if I tried. And I tried! Cale’s alive though. Fucking cunt monster. He gets to live, doesn't he?”

He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He worked them furiously to stop the flood of tears. Then on his knees he screamed. It echoed off the trees and your heart. The horse in the barn responded with a cry of her own.

You felt a lump in your throat as your body began to shake. “Katie’s alive. You did that Sean. Katie is alive, and she gets to be a Mommy. You did that. Maybe it's a balance? A fucked up give or take. You lost Derek but you saved Katie. And she gets to bring a little boy into this world. Ok?”

Sean got to his feet and took the hand you held out to him. You brushed his knuckles with your lips then stood on tiptoes to draw him down into an innocent kiss. His forehead resting against yours after.

“You’re alive, Sean. That matters to me. Let's go inside, ok?” you whispered.

Sean agreed. The two of you left your shoes inside. You promised to come right back to find the generator. The cabin came to life including the electric fireplace someone had installed over the years.

“Well that's oddly romantic timing.”

Sean was lost in the light it threw. He held his arms to his body which shivered as much as yours. You ignored it to focus on the man in front of you.

“Lift your arms?” you gently suggested. He obliged and you tugged the sweater up over his head. His old tee-shirt next. “Undo your jeans, and I'll get the towels.

Sean caught your hand. He pulled you flush with his chest. His skin was clammy, but his fingers seemed to come to life.

He returned the favor by removing your own sweater and undershirt. His eyes trained on yours while reaching behind to unhook your bra. He kissed the pulse beat on the side of your neck. He traced over your jaw with his lips at the same time he cupped one of your breasts to massage it tenderly.

Sean knelt in front of you to unfastened your jeans. The denim hugged your body so he had to sort of wrest them down your legs. You giggled and bit your lip. Sean pressed his mouth to your stomach. His tongue sunk into your naval before slipping your panties over your hips to help you step out of them.

Sean stood and stepped out of his jeans and underwear. You stood naked in front of one another. Studied each other. Better smiles and cheeks ruddy with self-consciousness.

The last few months you spent slowly building to something. Like lovers waiting for their wedding night. Here in this cabin was the “furthest” the two of you had come since he walked back into your life.

“I.. I better shower so I can make us dinner.”

---

“Dammit!” you swore after opening the cupboards. Bare. Why would they be stocked? No one has been here recently, including yourself.

The sounds of Sean in the shower were oddly comforting even after your own. You made your way to the bathroom door and knocked so as not to startle him. He answered, and you stepped in.

“It would've been more environmentally friendly if we showered together, you know.” You were certain he could hear the innuendo in your voice.

“Whot?!” He popped his head from the curtains. “Then how lovely for the blessed Mother Nature would it be if we were in here for thirty or forty minutes?”

Your face went slightly pink at the thought. “I think we need to cut your hair,” you mentioned instead.

Sean's eyebrows knit together in confusion. His hair nearly to his neck while straightened and wet. “No thanks.”

You leaned forward to kiss him. Unable to help yourself. “There's nothing to eat. So we either go hungry and leave at first light. Or we chance it after you get dressed.”

“Orrrr t’ird option,” this time he kissed you, “ye get the lunch I packed in my bag for us back at the lodge.”

“That's.. Romantic?” you chose your words carefully, unable to decide if it WAS romantic or if it was survival.

“I can be a Casanova when I want!” his chin jutted out in defiance.

“I remember,” you smiled at the thought.

You went out and found the satchel on the porch where he dropped it. Bringing it to the kitchen table you opened it up and pulled out sandwiches, fruit, macaroni salad and sodas. All of it from the little market in town, but put together with care.

You laid everything out for the two of you before digging into the leather bag deeper for Sean’s camera. Using two hands, one came in contact with a foil package. Realization dawned on you when you pulled it back out. There in your right hand Sean's camera, and in your left a few condoms.

“Sean,” you gasped more out of pleasant shock than anything.

You headed back toward the bedroom. Totally ignoring the man in only a towel drying off. You yourself had only found a bathrobe to wear while your clothes tumbled dry in the mud room.

You held the condoms aloft “Plan on shagging a moose with these?” you teased. Then your eyes focused. “Ohh.” But instead of turning away, you could only gawk.

"Or perhaps I was hoping we would do something as untamed as this mountain."

Sean, I don't think you're ready."

He beckoned you with a finger to come here. You stood in front of Sean, and he reached for your waist. Pulling you forwards so that you settled between his knees. He let his hands spread out across the terry cloth. Only this bathrobe and a towel separated your bodies. Your heart started to pound, and you bit a thumbnail. Your chest is as rosy as your cheeks heaved just slightly. You were mortified that somehow he would know how turned on you were.

"Are you trying to tell me what I want and I'm ready for? My therapist, and Katie, are always encouraging me t' replace the bad memories with good ones." He rubbed your back and shoulders. "I already know what being with ye is like. It's been so long, and you're so beautiful."

You sighed and leaned into Sean. His mouth warm on your neck when it trailed downwards. He pushed the cloth away from your shoulder to kiss it with such tenderness it took your breath away. Then he did the other before his mouth made its way along your collarbone.

Sean's hands were under the bathrobe now so they could travel the length of your skin. He jerked you forward so that you were sitting in his lap. His lips finally meet yours when you drape your arms over his shoulders for an embrace.

You broke the kiss. Your fingers caught up in the tendrils of Sean’s hair on the nape of his neck. You pushed the bits matted to his face away then left little pecks on the apples of his cheeks and tip of the nose.

“I'm so much better at it now.”

He returns the favor by kissing behind your ears. His tongue traces a line from your chin and deep in your mouth. You open up to it, letting him fill you. It explores you and you push back. Search the inside of him for a moment.

Sean pressed his forehead to your chest, “Me too.”

He takes a nipple in his mouth to tongue at it. He teases it, sucks on it slowly before a soft bite. Sean alternates between both of your breasts. Hot and warm lips sucking harder before changing to his hands. They cup a handful of you and massage while his lips find yours again.

Then in a whirlwind Sean has spun you around so that you're lying beneath him. Your head is somewhere in the pillows. You clutch one, the nails of your free hand dig into his shoulders to urge him along.

Sean kisses and nibbles bits of the flesh on your chest and stomach. He is inside your legs and situates them so that your feet are flat on the bed with your knees bent. Your body undulates and pulses with the knowledge of what he's about to do. He snakes his arms under you and pulls your thighs apart with his large hands.

You look down at the dark hair already beginning to curl as it dries. Your tight grip gets lost in it, tugs a little which causes him to growl. Or moan. His breathing is heavy, seductive almost, on your inner thighs. He kisses both of them too before his mouth envelopes the mound of your sex.

“Sean,” you moan. “You don't.. I mean.. fuck..” You struggle to get out a complete thought when his tongue plunges inside of you.

You writhe under him. He massages your thighs while the tip of his tongue searches for your clit. He flicks it a few times in quick succession before lapping at you. Sean taunts your sex with his lips and mouth. He takes a slow path along the entrance before diving back in.

Your grip on his hair tightens and twists. Your hips buck into him. You start to ride his face as he lashes your clit with his tongue. He switches from tip to sucking harder with each stroke. It's almost unbearable.

“I'm gonna-” your moan suffocates whatever the rest of your sentence was. You feel the spark in your stomach and sex.

“Cum?” Sean suddenly looks up at you.

You open your eyes and gaze in his direction, but he's now concentrating on your clit. Sean is on his knees with his middle finger replacing his tongue. It works deftly to create little circles around the bud of nerves. You relax into it.

“Sean! Fuck. Fuck,” you squirm.

He smiles. He bends to kiss you. Then he puts his hand between your breasts with his palm flat. He runs it down the center of your chest and stomach. Over your hip and up your waist to your breasts again. Then it curls around your neck to lift the back of your head off the pillows so your mouths meet again.

You taste the bitterness and how turned on you are. You prop up on your elbows and Sean holds your face in his large hands to study you. He kisses you once. Twice. A third time. Kisses that are soft and barely there before nuzzling his nose along yours.

“I want to be inside of you,” Sean whispers in your ear. His command is more like a plea.

Before you can prevent it, the next words flood from your lips into the bedroom. “I love you.”

Sean sits back on his haunches seemingly shocked. Your face turns hot.

How could you be so stupid?! It's only been a few months since he came back into your life, but you couldn't fathom losing him. Not again. It was stupid and archaic and maybe childish even to believe in true love. Yet, here it was. You laid yourself bare for it.

Sean got off the bed to scoop up one of the packages you let drop to the floor. He tore into it before taking his strained erection in one hand. The other slid the condom on the tip, unrolling it and held it in place.

You watched him as he ran his hand down the length of his shaft. He caressed his cock a few times before crawling back on top of you. Sean found you slick and wanting.

Your nails dragged lightly over the small of his back to his ass. Your free hand helped to guide him inside of you where he thrust forward until he was buried deep inside of you.

Sean started a slow rhythm you matched easily. Your ankles lock on his hips while clinging to him. He takes your hand in his. Your fingers weave together in the sheets.

The faster he rocks against you, the further in you he goes. Your bodies start to collide. Crashing into each other like waves. Sean squeezes your hand tighter than he probably meant to. You gasp from the sudden pain but are overwhelmed by the friction he's built up. You claw at his back in response.

“I love you,” he cries in your ear. “I love you. I love you.”

The beat of those words match his pace. There's sweat on his forehead and cheeks that mingle with tears. You move to kiss them. You’re happy that for once he doesn't turn and brush them away angrily.

Sean shows you his vulnerability and his heart and how it's broken. HE'S broken. That it was the mountains and lake that made him stop. But YOU were the reason he stayed. The reason he hasn't left.

You can't erase what Cale did, but together you and Sean can build a new life on top of it.

Tag: @bisexualnathanyoung @duck-noises @elliethesuperfruitlover @forenschik @falloutby @holidayspirits @a-ghoulish-tale @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private @neuroticpuppy @maerenee930 @petrichorblue94 @karinasmoonlight t@magic-multicolored-miracle @frogs--are--bitches @love-is-dirty-baby @sylvertyger @vonkimmeren @nightmonsters @gayandfairycore @wasabimia

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #sheehanksgiving 2021 #sean falco #sean x reader #bad samaritan fanfic

52 notes · View notes

robertsheehanownsmyass · 3 years

Note

https://www[dot]google[dot]com/search?q=robert+sheehan+gifs&client=ms-android-ee-uk-revc&source=android-browser&prmd=ivsn&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjPvsHOotvsAhUOQxUIHdySA2gQ_AUoAXoECAMQAQ&biw=412&bih=682&dpr=2.63#imgrc=7wGlj6BjhThu1M

Hiya! Can I request a sean x reader angst fic? Thank you love!

Love your writing!!

Thank you thank you!! Your wish is my command!

Thunderclouds

Sean Falco x Reader Warnings: Talk of death and trauma, fluffy angst. Just a wee drabble.

It had been three years since Sean narrowly escaped death at the hands of Cale Erendreich and his world was torn apart.

Many of the pieces could be put back together once the truth of what happened came out. His parents got their jobs back, Riley recovered and went on to grad school, and Sean merely got a slap on the wrist for the thefts he admitted to.

There was, however, one thing that could never be set right, and that was the murder of his best friend Derek, along with Derek’s mother.

Sean had, for the most part, fully recovered from his ordeal, both physically and emotionally. But when the anniversary of the events drew near, Sean's outlook would darken as if storm clouds passed overhead, obscuring the sun.

As his girlfriend of two years it was your job to help ease him through that time. It wasn't just a simple case of Sean moping around; he went through at least a solid week of hating himself because of his choices.

"If I had let Derek take the Maserati, none of this would have happened," he said one day while he was sitting on the couch with his knees drawn up to his chest.

You looked up from your book, brows furrowed. "You can't know that Sean."

He nodded defiantly, not meeting your eyes. "It's true, I know it. Derek was more brave than me. He would have gotten her out and to the police and he'd still be alive."

"Sean," you started.

"No," Sean said. "I saw that murder room and freaked. I can't stop replaying it in my mind. The instruments of death...thinking about the things that happened in there..." his voice had grown thick with emotion and he broke off.

You set your book aside. "Look at me," you said. When his eyes flicked to you you sighed. "You can't know what Derek would have done in that situation. You can't. Any sane human would have freaked out. Besides, you told me yourself that Cale checked the room while you were still there. For all you know, He would have caught Derek red-handed."

"But--" Sean began, but you cut him off.

"No buts!" you said firmly. "Look, if you really want to convince yourself that this is all your fault, your brain will have no problem filling in the blanks for you. The real bad guy is Cale, full stop."

Sean opened his mouth to retort, but closed it without speaking. He sighed heavily. "I feel like we're both right."

"Maybe," you replied. "But there's no point in dwelling on it. It's done."

Sean nodded. "Will you come with me to visit Derek?" he asked.

"Of course I will," you answered with a smile.

********** It was a typical moody January day in Portland, and you shivered as one particularly nasty gust of wind hit you. Sean wrapped his arm around you and hugged you to him tightly. You stood together in silent reflection gazing down at the small granite stone adorned with the name Derek Sandoval. Sean bent down and pressed a small object to the stone.

You squinted for a closer look. "Is that-- is that a stamp?"

Sean smiled. "Yeah, it is."

You looked at him with a bewildered expression. "Why the heck would you stick a stamp to Derek's tombstone?"

"Inside joke. He made fun of me for stealing stamps," he said, smiling wistfully.

"I don't blame him. That's pretty stupid, Sean."

Sean chuckled and turned so he was facing you. "Oh nobody is suggesting I was not stupid." He bent his head and captured your lips in a tender kiss, and when he broke away he pressed his forehead against yours. "Thank you for putting up with me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sean's clouds were finally breaking, and the sun that was his usual self was beginning to emerge. It gladdened your heart.

"No need to thank me," you said, smiling. "You're worth it."

"Good to know," Sean said with a grin, and pulled you in for another kiss. This time, it was far less chaste.

#sean falco x reader #bad samaritan fic #robert sheehan character fic #sheehanoween

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smashpages · 5 years

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Winners announced for the 2019 Eisner Awards

The winners were announced last night for the 2019 Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards.

Tom King and Mitch Gerads, partners on the Mister Miracle series from DC, took home five awards between them. John Allison’s Giant Days and The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang also took home multiple awards.

The Eisner Awards also inducted 10 people into the Hall of Fame last night: the judges chose Jim Aparo, June Tarpé Mills, Dave Stevens and Morrie Turner, while voters chose José Luis García-López, Jenette Kahn, Paul Levitz, Wendy and Richard Pini, and Bill Sienkiewicz to join the class of 2019.

Other awards given out last night included the The Bill Finger Excellence In Comic Book Writing Award, which was presented to Mike Friedrich and the late E. Nelson Bridwell, and the Russ Manning Most Promising Newcomer Award, which went to Lorena Alvarez.

The 2019 recipients of the Bob Clampett Humanitarian Award were Edgardo Miranda-Rodriguez, for his work on Ricanstruction: Reminiscing & Rebuilding Puerto Rico, and comic artist Tula Lotay, AKA Lisa Wood, for creating the UK-based Thought Bubble Festival. And La Revisteria Comics in Argentina won the Will Eisner Spirit of Comics Retailer Award.

You can see all the Eisner winners below, in bold.

Best Short Story

“Get Naked in Barcelona,” by Steven T. Seagle and Emei Olivia Burrell, in Get Naked (Image)

“The Ghastlygun Tinies,” by Matt Cohen and Marc Palm, in MAD magazine #4 (DC)

“Here I Am,” by Shaun Tan, in I Feel Machine (SelfMadeHero)

“Life During Interesting Times,” by Mike Dawson (The Nib), https://thenib.com/greatest-generation-interesting-times

“Supply Chains,” by Peter and Maria Hoey, in Coin-Op #7 (Coin-Op Books)

“The Talk of the Saints,” by Tom King and Jason Fabok, in Swamp Thing Winter Special (DC)

Best Single Issue/One-Shot

Beneath the Dead Oak Tree, by Emily Carroll (ShortBox)

Black Hammer: Cthu-Louise, by Jeff Lemire and Emi Lenox (Dark Horse)

No Better Words, by Carolyn Nowak (Silver Sprocket)

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #310, by Chip Zdarsky (Marvel)

The Terrible Elisabeth Dumn Against the Devils In Suits, by Arabson, translated by James Robinson (IHQ Studio/ Image)

Best Continuing Series

Batman, by Tom King et al. (DC)

Black Hammer: Age of Doom, by Jeff Lemire, Dean Ormston, and Rich Tommaso (Dark Horse)

Gasolina, by Sean Mackiewicz and Niko Walter (Skybound/Image)

Giant Days, by John Allison, Max Sarin, and Julaa Madrigal (BOOM! Box)

The Immortal Hulk, by Al Ewing, Joe Bennett, and Ruy José (Marvel)

Runaways, by Rainbow Rowell and Kris Anka (Marvel)

Best Limited Series

Batman: White Knight, by Sean Murphy (DC)

Eternity Girl, by Magdalene Visaggio and Sonny Liew (Vertigo/DC)

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles, by Mark Russell, Mike Feehan, and Mark Morales (DC)

Mister Miracle, by Tom King and Mitch Gerads (DC)

X-Men: Grand Design: Second Genesis, by Ed Piskor (Marvel)

Best New Series

Bitter Root, by David Walker, Chuck Brown, and Sanford Green (Image)

Crowded, by Christopher Sebela, Ro Stein, and Ted Brandt (Image)

Gideon Falls, by Jeff Lemire and Andrea Sorrentino (Image)

Isola, by Brenden Fletcher and Karl Kerschl (Image)

Man-Eaters, by Chelsea Cain and Kate Niemczyk (Image)

Skyward, by Joe Henderson and Lee Garbett (Image)

Best Publication for Early Readers (up to age 8)

Johnny Boo and the Ice Cream Computer, by James Kochalka (Top Shelf/IDW)

Petals, by Gustavo Borges (KaBOOM!)

Peter & Ernesto: A Tale of Two Sloths, by Graham Annable (First Second)

This Is a Taco! By Andrew Cangelose and Josh Shipley (CubHouse/Lion Forge)

Tiger Vs. Nightmare, by Emily Tetri (First Second)

Best Publication for Kids (ages 9–12)

Aquicorn Cove, by Katie O’Neill (Oni)

Be Prepared, by Vera Brosgol (First Second)

The Cardboard Kingdom, by Chad Sell (Knopf/Random House Children’s Books)

Crush, by Svetlana Chmakova (JY/Yen Press)

The Divided Earth, by Faith Erin Hicks (First Second)

Best Publication for Teens (ages 13–17)

All Summer Long, by Hope Larson (Farrar Straus Giroux)

Gumballs, by Erin Nations (Top Shelf/IDW)

Middlewest, by Skottie Young and Jorge Corona (Image)

Norroway, Book 1: The Black Bull of Norroway, by Cat Seaton and Kit Seaton (Image)

The Prince and the Dressmaker, by Jen Wang (First Second)

Watersnakes, by Tony Sandoval, translated by Lucas Marangon (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best Humor Publication

Get Naked, by Steven T. Seagle et al. (Image)

Giant Days, by John Allison, Max Sarin, and Julia Madrigal (BOOM! Box)

MAD magazine, edited by Bill Morrison (DC)

A Perfect Failure: Fanta Bukowski 3, by Noah Van Sciver (Fantagraphics)

Woman World, by Aminder Dhaliwal (Drawn & Quarterly)

Best Anthology

Femme Magnifique: 50 Magnificent Women Who Changed the World, edited by Shelly Bond (Black Crown/IDW)

Puerto Rico Strong, edited by Marco Lopez, Desiree Rodriguez, Hazel Newlevant, Derek Ruiz, and Neil Schwartz (Lion Forge)

Twisted Romance, edited by Alex de Campi (Image)

Where We Live: A Benefit for the Survivors in Las Vegas, edited by Will Dennis, curated by J. H. Williams III and Wendy Wright-Williams (Image)

Best Reality-Based Work

All the Answers: A Graphic Memoir, by Michael Kupperman (Gallery 13)

All the Sad Songs, by Summer Pierre (Retrofit/Big Planet)

Is This Guy For Real? The Unbelievable Andy Kaufman, by Box Brown (First Second)

Monk! by Youssef Daoudi (First Second)

One Dirty Tree, by Noah Van Sciver (Uncivilized Books)

Best Graphic Album—New

Bad Girls, by Alex de Campi and Victor Santos (Gallery 13)

Come Again, by Nate Powell (Top Shelf/IDW)

Green Lantern: Earth One Vol. 1, by Corinna Bechko and Gabriel Hardman (DC)

Homunculus, by Joe Sparrow (ShortBox)

My Heroes Have Always Been Junkies, by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips (Image)

Sabrina, by Nick Drnaso (Drawn & Quarterly)

Best Graphic Album—Reprint

Berlin, by Jason Lutes (Drawn & Quarterly)

Girl Town, by Carolyn Nowak (Top Shelf/IDW)

Upgrade Soul, by Ezra Claytan Daniels (Lion Forge)

The Vision hardcover, by Tom King, Gabriel Hernandez Walta, and Michael Walsh (Marvel)

Young Frances, by Hartley Lin (AdHouse Books)

Best Adaptation from Another Medium

Anne Frank’s Diary: The Graphic Adaptation, adapted by Ari Folman and David Polonsky (Pantheon)

“Frankenstein” by Mary Shelley, in Frankenstein: Junji Ito Story Collection, adapted by Junji Ito, translated by Jocelyne Allen (VIZ Media)

Out in the Open by Jesús Carraso, adapted by Javi Rey, translated by Lawrence Schimel (SelfMadeHero)

Speak: The Graphic Novel, by Laurie Halse Anderson and Emily Carroll (Farrar Straus Giroux)

To Build a Fire: Based on Jack London’s Classic Story, by Chabouté (Gallery 13)

Best U.S. Edition of International Material

About Betty’s Boob, by Vero Cazot and Julie Rocheleau, translated by Edward Gauvin (Archaia/BOOM!)

Brazen: Rebel Ladies Who Rocked the World, by Pénélope Bagieu (First Second)

Herakles Book 1, by Edouard Cour, translated by Jeremy Melloul (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Niourk, by Stefan Wul and Olivier Vatine, translated by Brandon Kander and Diana Schutz (Dark Horse)

A Sea of Love, by Wilfrid Lupano and Grégory Panaccione (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best U.S. Edition of International Material—Asia

Abara: Complete Deluxe Edition, by Tsutomu Nihei, translated by Sheldon Drzka (VIZ Media)

Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction, by Inio Asano, translated by John Werry (VIZ Media)

Laid-Back Camp, by Afro, translated by Amber Tamosaitis (Yen Press)

My Beijing: Four Stories of Everyday Wonder, by Nie Jun, translated by Edward Gauvin (Graphic Universe/Lerner)

Tokyo Tarareba Girls, by Akiko Higashimura (Kodansha)

Best Archival Collection/Project—Strips

Pogo, vol. 5: Out of This World At Home, by Walt Kelly, edited by Mark Evanier and Eric Reynolds (Fantagraphics)

Sky Masters of the Space Force: The Complete Sunday Strips in Color (1959–1960), by Jack Kirby, Wally Wood et al., edited by Ferran Delgado (Amigo Comics)

Star Wars: Classic Newspaper Strips, vol. 3, by Archie Goodwin and Al Williamson, edited by Dean Mullaney (Library of American Comics/IDW)

The Temple of Silence: Forgotten Words and Worlds of Herbert Crowley, by Justin Duerr (Beehive Books

Thimble Theatre and the Pre-Popeye Comics of E. C. Segar, edited by Peter Maresca (Sunday Press)

Best Archival Collection/Project—Comic Books

Action Comics: 80 Years of Superman Deluxe Edition, edited by Paul Levitz (DC)

Bill Sienkiewicz’s Mutants and Moon Knights… And Assassins… Artifact Edition, edited by Scott Dunbier (IDW)

Dirty Plotte: The Complete Julie Doucet (Drawn & Quarterly)

Madman Quarter Century Shindig, by Mike Allred, edited by Chris Ryall (IDW)

Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise Gallery Edition, edited by Joseph Melchior and Bob Chapman (Abstract Studio/Graphitti Designs)

Will Eisner’s A Contract with God: Curator’s Collection, edited by John Lind (Kitchen Sink/Dark Horse)

Best Writer

Alex de Campi, Bad Girls (Gallery 13); Twisted Romance (Image)

Tom King, Batman, Mister Miracle, Heroes in Crisis, Swamp Thing Winter Special (DC)

Jeff Lemire, Black Hammer: Age of Doom, Doctor Star & the Kingdom of Lost Tomorrows, Quantum Age (Dark Horse); Descender, Gideon Falls, Royal City (Image)

Mark Russell, Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles, Green Lantern/Huckleberry Hound, Lex Luthor/Porky Pig (DC); Lone Ranger (Dynamite)

Kelly Thompson, Nancy Drew (Dynamite); Hawkeye, Jessica Jones, Mr. & Mrs. X, Rogue & Gambit, Uncanny X-Men, West Coast Avengers (Marvel)

Chip Zdarsky, Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man, Marvel Two-in-One (Marvel)

Best Writer/Artist

Sophie Campbell, Wet Moon (Oni)

Nick Drnaso, Sabrina (Drawn & Quarterly)

David Lapham, Lodger (Black Crown/IDW); Stray Bullets (Image)

Nate Powell, Come Again (Top Shelf/IDW)

Tony Sandoval, Watersnakes (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Jen Wang, The Prince and the Dressmaker (First Second)

Best Penciller/Inker or Penciller/Inker Team

Matías Bergara, Coda (BOOM!)

Mitch Gerads, Mister Miracle (DC)

Karl Kerschl, Isola (Image)

Sonny Liew, Eternity Girl (Vertigo/DC)

Sean Phillips, Kill or Be Killed, My Heroes Have Always Been Junkies (Image)

Yanick Paquette, Wonder Woman Earth One, vol. 2 (DC)

Best Painter/Multimedia Artist (interior art)

Lee Bermejo, Batman: Damned (DC)

Carita Lupatelli, Izuna Book 2 (Humanoids)

Dustin Nguyen, Descender (Image)

Gregory Panaccione, A Sea of Love (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Tony Sandoval, Watersnakes (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

Best Cover Artist (for multiple covers)

Jen Bartel, Blackbird (Image); Submerged (Vault)

Nick Derington, Mister Miracle (DC)

Karl Kerschl, Isola (Image)

Joshua Middleton, Batgirl and Aquaman variants (DC)

Julian Tedesco, Hawkeye, Life of Captain Marvel (Marvel)

Best Coloring

Jordie Bellaire, Batgirl, Batman (DC); The Divided Earth (First Second); Days of Hate, Dead Hand, Head Lopper, Redlands (Image); Shuri, Doctor Strange (Marvel)

Tamra Bonvillain, Alien 3 (Dark Horse); Batman, Doom Patrol (DC); Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur, Multiple Man (Marvel)

Nathan Fairbairn, Batman, Batgirl, Birds of Prey, Wonder Woman Earth One, vol. 2 (DC); Die!Die!Die! (Image)

Matt Hollingsworth, Batman: White Knight (DC): Seven to Eternity, Wytches (Image)

Matt Wilson, Black Cloud, Paper Girls, The Wicked + The Divine (Image); The Mighty Thor, Runaways (Marvel)

Best Lettering

David Aja, Seeds (Berger Books/Dark Horse)

Jim Campbell, Breathless, Calexit, Gravetrancers, Snap Flash Hustle, Survival Fetish, The Wilds (Black Mask); Abbott, Alice: Dream to Dream, Black Badge, Clueless, Coda, Fence, Firefly, Giant Days, Grass Kings, Lumberjanes: The Infernal Compass, Low Road West, Sparrowhawk (BOOM); Angelic (Image); Wasted Space (Vault)

Alex de Campi, Bad Girls (Gallery 13); Twisted Romance (Image)

Jared Fletcher, Batman: Damned (DC); The Gravediggers Union, Moonshine, Paper Girls, Southern Bastards (Image)

Todd Klein— Black Hammer: Age of Doom, Neil Gaiman’s A Study in Emerald (Dark Horse); Batman: White Night (DC); Eternity Girl, Books of Magic (Vertigo/DC); The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: The Tempest (Top Shelf/IDW)

Best Comics-Related Periodical/ Journalism

Note: There was a tie in this category

Back Issue, edited by Michael Eury (TwoMorrows)

The Columbus Scribbler, edited by Brian Canini, columbusscribbler.com

Comicosity, edited by Aaron Long and Matt Santori, www.comicosity.com

LAAB Magazine #0: Dark Matter, edited by Ronald Wimberley and Josh O’Neill (Beehive Books)

PanelxPanel magazine, edited by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou, panelxpanel.com

Best Comics-Related Book

Comic Book Implosion: An Oral History of DC Comics Circa 1978, by Keith Dallas and John Wells (TwoMorrows)

Drawn to Purpose: American Women Illustrators and Cartoonists, by Martha H. Kennedy (University Press of Mississippi)

The League of Regrettable Sidekicks, by Jon Morris (Quirk Books)

Mike Grell: Life Is Drawing Without an Eraser, by Dewey Cassell with Jeff Messer (TwoMorrows)

Yoshitaka Amano: The Illustrated Biography—Beyond the Fantasy, by Florent Gorges, translated by Laure Dupont and Annie Gullion (Dark Horse)

Best Academic/Scholarly Work

Between Pen and Pixel: Comics, Materiality, and the Book of the Future, by Aaron Kashtan (Ohio State University Press)

Breaking the Frames: Populism and Prestige in Comics Studies, by Marc Singer (University of Texas Press)

The Goat-Getters: Jack Johnson, the Fight of the Century, and How a Bunch of Raucous Cartoonists Reinvented Comics, by Eddie Campbell (Library of American Comics/IDW/Ohio State University Press)

Incorrigibles and Innocents, by Lara Saguisag (Rutgers Univeristy Press)

Sweet Little C*nt: The Graphic Work of Julie Doucet, by Anne Elizabeth Moore (Uncivilized Books)

Best Publication Design

A Sea of Love, designed by Wilfrid Lupano, Grégory Panaccione, and Mike Kennedy (Magnetic/Lion Forge)

The Stan Lee Story Collector’s Edition, designed by Josh Baker (Taschen)

The Temple of Silence: Forgotten Worlds of Herbert Crowley, designed by Paul Kepple and Max Vandenberg (Beehive Books)

Terry Moore’s Strangers in Paradise Gallery Edition, designed by Josh Beatman/Brainchild Studios/NYC (Abstract Studio/Graphitti Designs)

Will Eisner’s A Contract with God: Curator’s Collection, designed by John Lind (Kitchen Sink/Dark Horse)

Best Digital Comic

Aztec Empire, by Paul Guinan, Anina Bennett, and David Hahn, www.bigredhair.com/books/Aztec-empire/

The Führer and the Tramp, by Sean McArdle, Jon Judy, and Dexter Wee, http://thefuhrerandthetramp.com/

The Journey, by Pablo Leon (Rewire), https://rewire.news/article/2018/01/08/rewire-exclusive-comic-journey/

The Stone King, by Kel McDonald and Tyler Crook (comiXology Originals) https://cmxl.gy/Stone-King

Umami, by Ken Niimura (Panel Syndicate), http://panelsyndicate.com/comics/umami

Best Webcomic

The Contradictions, by Sophie Yanow, www.thecontradictions.com

Lavender Jack, by Dan Schkade (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/thriller/lavender-jack/list?title_no=1410&page=1

Let’s Play, by Mongie (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/letsplay/list?title_no=1218&page=1

Lore Olympus, by Rachel Smythe, (WEBTOON), https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/lore-olympus/list?title_no=1320&page=1

Tiger, Tiger, by Petra Erika Nordlund, (Hiveworks) http://www.tigertigercomic.com/

#comic books #Smash Pages #eisner awards #graphic novels #webcomics

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angst-fairygodmother · 2 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER TEN: VIGIL

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 5267 Rating: T - canon typical language, descriptions of injuries, hospitals and reference to medical procedures, spoilers for Bad Samaritan, grief and fear, A/N: Well, here we are. It’s been a long time...it’s because, well...I didn’t wanna do this. Shooting him hurt, making Ryne sit, incapable of doing anything to fix things, killed me.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

A grim tension settled over the cab as you and Sean rushed through the dark Portland streets, feeling like you were always just a little too far behind the ambulance. His knuckles were bleached by how tight he gripped the wheel. There were tears in his eyes, and for the moment, you felt numb.

“I'm going to drop you off and then go back to Erendreich's to figure out exactly where he's keeping the girl,” he said, sounding strained and exhausted.

“Sean. Please don’t do this,” you begged. “I know you want to save this woman, but...think about what it would do to your family if something happened to you.”

“What about her family? What about what it will do to me knowing I left her there and did nothing?”

“You haven’t done nothing! You found her, you told the FBI, and got them to move and do something for fuck's sake, even if it is just 'start an investigation.' You’ve done enough. Let them take it from here. It’s their job.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t, Y/N.”

“Please Sean.” You bit your lip to keep back tears, afraid if you started crying again now you'd never be able to stop. “I can’t lose you too.”

“Hey,” he reached over to give your hand a quick, comforting squeeze. “You haven't lost Derek. He's tough. He'll pull through, alright? And you'll be right there waiting for him to wake up and give him hell for scaring you, us.”

“It would be better if we were both there.” You wanted to believe Sean, that everything would somehow, miraculously turn out okay, but there was a weight like lead in your stomach, and you couldn't.

“I will be. After I save the girl.”

“Fine,” you sighed in frustration. “Since you won’t give this up, at least be careful. If you get yourself killed, I’m going to be pissed.”

He laughed, the sound filling the truck with a moment's warmth as he turned into the hospital driveway. For a second, things almost seemed normal and the only darkness came from the night around you.

“And when you catch up to the guy, make sure he knows he pretty much failed, and sucks at being a serial killer. Nearly everyone he tried to kill survived.”

“You...want me to taunt him?”

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged stiffly before exiting. “Bastard deserves a taste of his own medicine. I'd do it myself but…”

Your cousin shook his head in disbelief. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Call me, as soon as it's done, okay. Or if you finally grow a brain under all that hair and give up."

“I will.”

He nodded and you cast him one last look, considering getting into the truck to go with him. Then you remembered Derek, hurt and alone and possibly still being blamed for his parents' deaths and a chill hand clenched around your heart. You couldn't, and added making you choose between them to your list of reasons to hate Erendreich.

“Hi, I'm looking for Derek Sandoval,” you said nervously to the nurse at the front desk. “He was brought in by an ambulance just a little bit ago? He was shot?”

She frowned. “And who are you?”

“My name is Y/N.” You bit your lip, biting back nerves and tears.

“Are you family, dear?”

“No. I...I'm his girlfriend.”

“Does he have you listed as an emergency contact?”

“No. I don't think so. To be totally honest, he's terrible with paperwork and probably doesn't have one at all.”

“Then I'm afraid I can't give you any information. I'm sorry. You're welcome to come back, and I can give you an update once we have permission from the patient or someone authorized to make his decisions.”

“You don't understand…” you protested.

Your heart raced and your throat felt like it was starting to close, you couldn’t breathe and your ears rang. All you could think of was what had happened the last time you left him alone. You couldn’t. Not again, not now.

“His parents were both killed by the person who shot him. His sister is only seventeen, and out of town. I'm all he has and he's...too important to me to let something happen to him. Please don’t make me leave.”

Your battered lungs screamed as you tried to take in air. The world was spinning as panic threatened to overwhelm you. You clung, white knuckled, to the edge of the desk. Fear mixed with the pain of your injuries and you felt like you were going to collapse, or be sick, maybe both.

The nurse offered you a sympathetic look.

“Listen, I understand that you're distressed, and the situation is complicated,” she said, “but rules are rules. Now, if you were to go down the hall, take the third left and end up in the surgery waiting room while I'm getting a cup of tea, I wouldn't know a thing about it. I'll just have to assume if you're not still at this desk, you've gone home. And I certainly wouldn't know if you talked to Dr. Franklin, who may or may not be Mr. Sandoval's attending.”

“Thank you...for the information,” you said carefully, smiling gratefully.

“You have a good night,” she answered, “I'm off on a break.”

She stood up dramatically and walked away. You took a deep breath, praying that you wouldn't get caught or kicked out as you followed her directions past the desk.

Dear Y/N, you have been placed on academic suspension, effective immediately, pending full investigation of…

Pursuant to your academic suspension, your scholarship has been revoked and you will be responsible for the full balance…

Y/N, we regret to inform you that we are rescinding our previous offer of employment with our firm. We pride ourselves on…

You scrolled numbly through the emails that had come in, unnoticed over the last few hours, from school and the job you had secured for after graduation, from your bar prep program and the state examiners, while you waited for any news. Erendreich was destroying your career and future, piece by piece and you were watching it in real time.

But at least there was nothing else he could take.

Even as the thought crossed your mind, you opened your cousin’s contact, thumb hovering over the call button before you sighed and set your phone down. You wanted desperately to talk to him, to know he was okay, to be there with him, but you knew trying now would just be a dangerous distraction.

You looked up expectantly as a nurse entered the room only to deflate as they passed you to speak with someone else. Not knowing anything about either of the two most important people in your life felt like it was suffocating you. Your hands dragged tiredly over your face, trying to fight back the hopelessness settling in the longer you waited in silence.

“Fuck,” you muttered, quietly giving in to the tears you had been fighting for hours, tucking your knees up to you chest.

Arms looped around yourself, you eventually, reluctantly, let those tears drag you into a fitful sleep.

The sunrise peeked through the windows, burning your tired eyes. It was well after midnight when you had been escorted into this room by the kind-eyed, sympathetic Dr. Franklin. It hadn’t taken much to explain the situation, and while he still wouldn’t tell you anything specific, he had said that surgery was a lucky success and that, for now, Derek was fighting hard and had made it through the first round of the worst of things.

It didn’t quite feel like he had though, from where you sat in the hard plastic chair beside him. Wires seemed to run from every part of his body to the steadily beeping monitors on the other side of the bed, and he had tubes connecting him to pumps and drips and all sorts of intimidating looking machinery. His hand felt wrong in yours, cold and limp and not returning the affectionate touch, and you struggled to push away the word “corpse-like” from your thoughts.

You pressed a lingering kiss to the back of his hand, before resting your cheek against it.

“Derek,” you whispered hoarsely, fighting back more tears and wondering if there would come a point where you had cried so much that you couldn’t anymore, ever again. “I love you, okay? And I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. But please, I need you to wake up. I need you to be okay.”

You sighed when he didn’t show any signs of recognition, of movement or awareness, or life. It hadn’t been like you were expecting him to magically open your eyes and crack some joke about you being an angel, you knew that you weren’t part of a romcom. But you had hoped, beyond reason, to feel or see something, anything that told you it would really be okay.

You felt hopeless, helpless, and let your mind start to wander down the endless dark pathways of what ifs: what if Derek never woke up, what if he did but he didn’t remember you, what if you lost him, what if Sean was being buried in a shallow grave in the woods at that very moment, what if after finally letting yourself fall in love and opening yourself to a person you ended up completely alone in the end anyway.

You weren’t sure how long those thoughts dragged at you, threatening to overwhelm and drown you, unable to be fought back in your worried and exhausted state. The pain from your own injuries made your stomach roil, and the hospital room felt suffocating. A knock on the door and one of the techs entering startled you out of the mire of it all, making you jump and gasp in fright.

“Sorry,” he rushed apologetically. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just have to come in and…well actually I have to take Mr. Sandoval–”

“Derek,” you corrected quickly. “He hated…hates being called anything that makes him sound like his father, or an adult.” You tried to laugh but it came out forced and hollow and the tech nodded with a slight frown.

“Right. Okay. I have to take Derek and go run a few more tests, scans with him. It’ll take about a half hour, if you wanted to…maybe get some fresh air or food?”

Icy water seemed to creep down your spine, paralyzing you. “Is…is that normal?” you managed to get out through lips that felt numb and tingly.

“What? Oh yes, absolutely. When someone’s been through a trauma like this, it’s our policy to run regular scans, to try and catch any potential problems as early as possible.”

You nodded hesitantly. “Ok…I’ll…I’ll get out of your way then.”

You winced at the stiffness that had settled in as you sat there and he grimaced sympathetically when your joints cracked. Still reluctant to leave Derek’s side, you hovered in the corner as he was wheeled out. But it only took a few minutes of pacing nervously in the too empty room before you realized that a half hour like that would drive away the last of your sanity, so you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration and left.

You hadn’t made it more than a few feet down the hall, when an unfamiliar voice asking one of the nurses for directions to Derek’s room caught your attention. You stepped defensively into the woman’s path, blocking her.

“Who are you, and why are you looking for Derek?” you snapped, glaring.

“I need to ask him some questions about what happened tonight. Please move aside.” Her tone was authoritative and held an undercurrent of frustration that surprised you.

“Who. Are. You?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “My name is Agent Olivia Fuller. I’m with the Portland branch of the FBI, investigating Cale Erendreich. Mr. Sandoval is reportedly connected to the case. Now please, move out of my way.”

“The one my cousin talked to. Derek won’t be able to answer your questions right now. He’s still unconscious and only just got out of surgery to remove the bullet that Erendreich left in his head after murdering his family. Besides, instead of questioning the victims, you should probably be, I don’t know, tracking Sean’s phone or something? He left hours ago to ‘finish this.’” You said flatly, trying to hold back the absolute fury you felt for her and her colleagues and the fact that they seemed to have done jack shit while people you loved got hurt and risked their lives.

Agent Fuller gaped at you, and a manic giggle surprised you, escaping at her expression before you could stop it. Then she said something to a nearby cop, and everything exploded into a flurry of action.

As quickly as it began, the commotion disappeared, leaving you standing alone and confused in the hall. Not knowing what else to do, you shrugged and continued on your initial mission to the nurse’s station for directions to the nearest cup of coffee.

After that, things started to feel like a blur. Someone brought you a cot, usually reserved for parents who had little kids they couldn’t leave alone, and you were able to lay down, near enough to know immediately if anything happened, and get a few hours of rest. Jocelyn came in to give you an update of how Riley was doing, and check on you, though she quickly got frustrated and stormed out when you refused to go home and “take care of yourself.” You gathered the courage to call Bela and leave her a(n admittedly distracted and nonsensical) voicemail that something happened and you needed to talk to her. At around midmorning, a tray appeared on the room’s little table with a muffin and some drooping bacon and a tiny paper cup of orange juice. Two hours later, the same tray was collected, untouched.

By now, your gut felt like it had tied itself into knots that would never come undone. You hadn’t heard anything from Sean yet, and he had been gone too long. Whatever happened would have by now. And after the last few days, you could no longer hold to the adage that no news was good news.

But your body fought against your mind, and you had just about given in to the urge to return to the cot when a nurse came in.

“Excuse me, but do you know a…” they paused to check the paper in their hand. “Rowan Falco?”

“Yes, that’s my cousin, why?” your heart picked up speed. “Don’t tell me he’s in the hospital now too?” You wouldn’t put it past Erendreich to try one last, desperate run at Sean’s family, your family, and you couldn’t bear the possibility of anyone else being hurt.

“No! No no, he’s looking for you. He and his parents are waiting for someone that was brought in a little bit ago.”

“Sean!” you hadn’t meant to shout so loudly, but you were so overwhelmed by even that scrap of information, and by everything that had happened, that volume regulation was no longer a concern.

“Would you like me to take you to them? Or give him directions here?”

“I…yes please.”

They looked puzzled and you realized that your answer didn’t fit their question. You chuckled sheepishly when they waved off your apology.

“I could use the excuse to walk, so I’ll go see them. But…will someone be able to let me know if…”

“We’ll come find you right away if Mr. San…Derek’s condition changes.”

You nodded, following the nurse down the hall to a little side waiting room that seemed like a closet someone had repainted and stuffed a few chairs into. Rowan was curled into one of them, looking like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Your aunt Patty sat in another, wringing her hands, and Don paced the little patch of open floor. They all looked up when you entered, and before you could blink, three sets of arms had you wrapped in a hug, and all of you were crying.

“I’ll just…uh…leave you all alone,” the nurse said, making a quick exit and closing the door behind themself.

When the hug finally broke, you found yourself wishing that they’d held you a few seconds more, you needed it. Quickly their voices became overlapped with questions and concern, except Rowan who had retreated into himself again. You did your best to recap, glossing over Sean and Derek’s (and your) potential firing from Nino’s and your run-in with the car, instead focusing on Riley being thrown down several flights of stairs and Derek getting shot. In return, they told you about how Sean had tracked Cale to his cabin near Mount Hood, and saved the girl, how the FBI had arrived just in time, and the madman apprehended. Sean and the girl, whose name your family still didn’t know, were brought back to Portland, instead of a local hospital, since their injuries were severe but not life threatening, and as soon as a doctor had finished examining him, he was allowed to have visitors.

“Thank god. I told him not to get himself killed, since I couldn’t stop him from going,” you said with a rueful half-smile. “For once it sounds like he listened to me.”

Your aunt and uncle chuckled at that, and invited you to stay with them, and go see Sean for yourself. You opened your mouth to refuse, wanting to be back at Derek’s side when something stopped you, and instead you nodded, making them smile and nod in approval before resuming their ‘waiting with worry’ behaviors. Dropping into the seat next to him, you bumped your cousin gently with your shoulder.

“Hey Ro,” you said in the lowest whisper you could manage. “You good?”

He stayed silent, jaw tense and working like he was chewing on his words in order to decide whether or not to speak.

“No,” he settled on eventually, grunting the word like it pained him to say.

“That’s not surprising. You wanna talk about it?”

He looked for a moment like he wanted to say yes before he sullenly shook his head and turned away from you with a sigh.

“Okay.” You paused, before adding in casually and at a slightly higher volume, “you know, hospital food gets a bad rep. Want to take a walk?”

He was quick to agree to that, and the gurgle of your stomach, actually desperate for food now that you weren’t literally sick with fright added an air of believability to your cover. As soon as the door closed between the two of you and his parents, he hugged you tightly again, burying his face into your shoulder to hide his tears and you were reminded painfully of how young he was and how hard this must be for him.

“It’s my fault Sean got hurt,” he mumbled as you awkwardly patted his shoulder blade in an attempt to comfort him.

“What are you talking about Ro?” you asked, frowning and trying to pull away to look him in the eye.

“I let him use my computer on some picture he had. That’s where he got the address. If I hadn’t he wouldn’t have been able to go out there.”

You laughed incredulously. “Oh Ro. This is your brother we’re talking about, and he had set his big, stubborn head to a course of action. Do you really think he wouldn’t have found another way to find Cale?”

He seemed to think for a moment, frowning as he looked for a counterpoint.

“Listen,” you slung your arm over his shoulder, pausing to marvel that at some point even your baby cousin became taller than you, and trying not to make it obvious that you were using him as a human crutch while you steered him toward the cafe. “I get it. It’s easier to find a way to blame yourself than just accept that it was some evil horrible guy you’ve never met and don’t have a face for. I keep thinking if I hadn’t pointed out that Cale was attacking people they cared about, Derek wouldn’t have gone home to check on his mom.”

Rowan nodded quietly, looking like he still didn’t quite believe you.

“Sean’s going to be fine,” you continued, covering his hand comfortingly with yours, grateful to have something to do, and to be able to say and mean that. “He’s here now, and safe.”

“And too bull-headed not to be?”

“Exactly. Our family’s good at being that. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Shall we see what’s what?”

When you were finally allowed to go see Sean, your family holding a secret vote to let you go first, you all but threw yourself at him. Hugging your cousin tight enough to make him wheeze, you let out a sob that you didn't know you'd been holding back. His arms circled you in return and you clung to each other, both trembling.

“Sean, I...I was so scared. You've been gone for hours and I thought…” you stumbled over your words in your rush to get them out.

You pulled back, finally really looking at him and gasped. Cale had clearly done a number on his face, his left eye swollen shut possibly beyond repair and that entire side turning a fascinating marble of red and purple, blue bruise undertones standing out along the bony parts. Not to mention the suture tape where his eyebrow had been reconnected or the split along his lip. And he looked exhausted, almost hollow.

“Christ, you look like crap,” the words slipped from your lips before you could think.

“Thank you so much for that, Y/N,” Sean said, his tone dripping with his characteristic sarcasm and it warmed your heart. “Very supportive.”

“How bad does it hurt? Should I let you rest or can you tell me everything now? Did you find the girl? I know you took Cale out, thank god, and that he’s going to be arrested for everything he’s done but did you save her? Is she going to be okay? Who was she? I don’t have much of an update on Derek, other than that he made it through surgery and they think he might make it which is better than it looked for a while. And Riley’s–” Sean squeezing your hand tightly caught your attention and stopped you mid-sentence.

“Slow down,” he laughed, wincing as the expression pulled at the swollen skin.

“Sorry.”

“Let me talk to my mother and Don and then I’ll tell you everything. Maybe they’ll even transfer rooms so I’ll just be sitting with you and Derek anyway.”

“And Rowen.”

“What?”

“Talk to Rowen too. He’ll hate me for telling you, but…he was pretty freaked out. And self-blame-y.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re right. I should let you talk to them. And rest. And we’ll talk later. I feel like I’ve been away from Derek too long anyway. But Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For coming back and being okay.”

“Like you’d have let me be anything else.”

You chuckled in response and hugged your cousin again before he shooed you out, and you returned to Derek’s room, feeling like at least one weight had lifted.

Days went by. Erendreich’s arrest and everything he’d done made the news, and empty gestures of support in the form of flowers and cards (which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at when they were coming from neighbors who had been all too ready to believe Derek was a murderer) poured in. Nino stopped by with a lasagna and a promise that all three of your jobs would be waiting for you, whenever you were ready to come back. Derek’s sister, returned from her road trip, had opted to stay with her boyfriend, though you had also offered her a spare key to your place, and you couldn’t say you blamed her.

“Hey,” a voice said softly, announcing the other person’s presence in Derek’s hospital room one afternoon, before their hand rested on your shoulder.

“Bela, hi,” you looked up, trying to force a smile onto your face.

“I can sit with him for a while,” she offered, “you should take a break.”

“You know if you kick me out of here, I’m just going to go down the hall to Sean’s room.”

It was exactly what you had been doing, drifting from one man’s side to the other — once trying to visit Riley before she made it clear she was still upset and didn’t want to see you — as you waited for something to change.

“You should go home. When was the last time you went to class, or ate something that wasn’t from the vending machine, or slept?”

“I took a leave of absence from school. I’ll get caught up before finals, it’ll be fine. And I go to the cafeteria. I had some soup a few hours ago.”

“Y/N…” you weren’t sure if her voice was more exhausted or frustrated, and you felt a twinge of guilt that she was worrying about you on top of everything else.

“I’m okay, really, Bel, don’t worry about me. Although, I can’t sleep, to be honest,” you shook your head, admitting in a whisper, “I’m too scared.”

“My brother loves you, you know? I don’t know if he ever grew the balls to tell you, but he does, a lot. And he wouldn’t want you to be doing this. You’re going to make yourself sick, fretting over him when there’s nothing we can do.”

The strain in her voice reminded you that she was stuck in the same horrible position you were, helpless and forced to just sit around and wait to see what would happen when Derek woke up, if he woke up. She was just as exhausted, and aching, and when you paused to really look, had deep circles under her eyes and a frailty to her that she hadn’t before. You stood then, turning to wrap her in a hug.

“I’m sorry Bela,” you murmured as you rested your cheek against her hair. “I should be the one looking out for you, not the other way around. He’s your family, and you’ve already lost…” you pressed your lips together with a sigh. “Fuck. This is a mess.”

“How about this, Y/N,” she said, tone shifting slightly into a confident almost-sales pitch, striking you suddenly with how alike she and Derek were. “We make a pact to look after each other, since neither of us knows how to take care of ourselves, apparently.”

You smiled fondly. “Sounds like a deal.”

The two of you put on your most serious faces and shook on the deal.

“Good. My first act under the pact is making you go home and sleep, and go to class tomorrow if I have to drive you there myself.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You really are his sister. And I should have seen that coming.”

“Probably. Now go. I’ll call if there’s any change, you know that.”

“Fine. But only if you also get some rest. The cot in the corner is surprisingly comfortable actually.”

“I think you have Stockholm syndrome toward it,” she squinted in dramatic suspicion at the furniture in question. “But I promise, I’ll try.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Okay.”

You kissed each other on the cheek, giving one more reassuring squeeze to shoulders, and you reluctantly left the room, restraining yourself to only pausing to check on Sean on your way out.

Sean was released from the hospital after about a week, most of his injuries (a concussion, broken eye socket, and other surface level damage) things that were best healed by time and rest. The woman he’d saved whose name you learned was Katie, a few days after that. She stopped into Derek’s room briefly on her way out, to try to apologize though you wouldn’t let her take that blame. You weren’t sure when Riley got out, only that one day Sean went to try and speak to her again and she was gone, some inkling in your mind saying that it might be the last you ever heard from her in fact (confirmed later when Sean called in tears because he’d gone home to find a box of his things on the porch with a note giving a time and date when Jocelyn would be by to get Riley’s).

Time slowly started to creep forward again. You stopped jumping at unusual noises or shadows, attended a few of your classes and worked for hours at his bedside to catch up on and review your notes. Sean gave statement after statement to the FBI, and one or two to clever journalists who managed to get the jump on him and leave him feeling like there was no other option, and was put in touch with a trauma counselor to help him relearn the meaning of “safe.” It wasn’t clear yet about the repercussions of his criminal acts that had started the whole mess, but you were hopeful that it wouldn’t be severe.

You “celebrated” your birthday in Derek’s hospital room. You, Sean, Bela, and a vending machine muffin, sans candles. The steady beep of his heart monitor replaced The Birthday Song, and that was mostly fine with you. It didn’t feel like happy was really possible anyway, so why waste breath on pretending?

Finals came and went, and while your grades were passing, you still managed to be disappointed in yourself that they weren’t as high as you’d hoped. You forced yourself to go to graduation, for your family’s sake, and you tried to enjoy it while it happened, to cherish the memories that went with it, knowing it would be what Derek would want you to do. But it was impossible with a giant hole in your reality. You hadn’t realized just how much of a presence he was until it wasn’t there, or how badly you wanted to share all of your life moments with him. You were almost thankful when studying for the bar gave you an excuse to withdraw. You could study from anywhere, and had nowhere else to be.

You had just set your notes aside one summer afternoon, rubbing your hands over your face to push away exhaustion, when the heart monitor that had become an unnoticed part of your environment made a strange noise. You looked up in horror, but everything seemed to be fine and you wondered if you had imagined it.

You sighed again, and rested your arms on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing against Derek’s, and your head on top of them. It wasn’t comfortable, but the cot had long since been removed, and it was better than trying to lean back and toppling the chair over, again.

“I hope that you’re not crying over me,” the words croaked and slurred, voice and muscles protesting from disuse.

Your head shot up, staring in shock. You were sure you were hallucinating or dreaming but you didn’t care. After months, it felt like your heart might explode out of your chest with the hope.

“You’re awake?” you breathed, tears now actually springing to your eyes and fingers trembling as you reached for him.

“Guess so. Unless you’re an angel and I’m--”

“Don’t even joke,” you cut him off, shaking your head vehemently. “Please, don’t.”

#please note I understand NOTHING about medicine or how long these things would actually take #I also have given up caring about those details in favor of the story #anyway #it's here at last #and very roughly edited because I have been working on this too long and just need to get it out #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #fix it fic #but that still HURTS

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Note

from the halloween prompts: derek/reader and dialogue 6 and horror staple 17?

A/N: So this ended up a little more Ghost/Haunting than Urban Legend...oops. But it was hard to find one of those for Oregon that wasn’t kind of culturally appropriative of Native American stories. But Hecata Head Lighthouse is a real Oregon haunting so I dunno, I think it counts? I hope you enjoy either way 😊 Word Count: 2320 Rating: T - suggestive themes/implied sexual content, canon-typical language, hauntings

Derek had been silent for a while, the pair of you stretched out on his mother's couch, you practically laying on top of him. It was supposed to be a horror movie marathon, but after the second, you had both stopped paying full attention. Apart from the occasional stolen kiss, you each seemed to be in your own world, which is why when he suddenly spoke, it made you jump higher than any of the movie moments had.

“We should do somethin.”

“What?” you turned your head to look up at him in confusion. “Are you bored of the movie?”

“No. Kinda.” He laughed at your exaggeratedly hurt expression. “Sorry, baby, I know Blair Witch is one of your favorites, but I’m really not feeling it today. I promise, another time, I’ll watch it for real. But I wasn’t talking about right now anyhow.”

“Oh. Well then what are you talking about?”

“Halloween.”

“You mean like dress up in costumes and go out?”

“Or...ghost hunting?”

“You want me to go ghost hunting with you? On Halloween? Have you not been paying attention at all?”

“I have, but that’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh my god, I’m dating the White Girl.” You couldn’t help laughing as you teased him and he pouted.

“You’re so mean, Y/N. You coulda just said no.”

“Did I say I wouldn’t go?” you smirked at him as your words dawned and he broke out in a grin. “But if we die or get possessed, I want it on record that it’s your fault.”

“So here's the plan,” Derek said excitedly, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. “I got a room at this super haunted lighthouse b&b thing. We’ll go there, hang out, try to catch the ghost at night.”

“And if we can’t catch it?” you quirked an eyebrow at him as you leaned in. “Or if there is no ghost?”

“Then me and my girlfriend have a sexy getaway, just the two of us.”

Sean made retching noises that sent you both into a fit of giggles.

“What do you say baby girl?” he asked, tilting his head pleadingly at you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, pretending to be far more annoyed by the suggestion than you really were. “Alright sure.”

Derek cheered, pumping his fist victoriously, before launching into the details of the whens and wheres of things. Laughing, you cut him off by catching his chin in your hand and kissing him. His arm tightened around you and his tongue slipped into your mouth, making you sigh.

“Oh come on, seriously?” Sean interrupted in disgust. “Do you have to do that right now?”

“Yes,” you replied with a laugh before breaking away reluctantly with one last peck. “How else will he survive your shift?”

“It's true man.”

Sean rolled his eyes, just enough laughter in his face to tell you he wasn't truly annoyed as you waved and turned to enter the restaurant, Derek holding on as long as he could until you slid from his grasp.

“God I love that woman,” he muttered, eyes tracing your retreat.

Sean raised an eyebrow, shaking his head at Derek's unabashed shrug.

“You hate Halloween, hauntings, and all that crap man. What are you doing?”

“Yeah, but Y/N loves it. So I figured I'd do it, for her. What's the worst that'll happen?”

“You didn’t really just say that...”

“So,” you said from where you reclined on the mattress. “What exactly are we doing here?”

“Well at the moment, you’re makin me think sinful thoughts.” He made a show of looking you up and down. “Damn, girl.”

“I am perfectly innocent here,” you protested. “It’s not my fault you’re too horny for your own good.”

He stuck his lower lip out in a pout. “Such a tease.”

“But I meant for the weekend. You wanted to go ghost hunting, so I assume you have a plan for that?”

“Of course I have a plan. Who do you think I am?”

You tilted your head with a smirk as if to answer without saying a word.

“This is like one of the most haunted places in Oregon. The main ghost is this old lady called Rue, who used to be married to a lighthouse keeper. And their kid drowned and so after she died she started haunting it looking for them,” he explained, pacing the room and reading from his phone. “Most of the stories are her just walking around and stuff, but there’s some freaky ones. A window got broken in the attic and in the middle of the night they heard her sweeping up the glass and then it was gone. People finding their stuff cleaned up or rearranged.”

“Okay, sure. If she was a lighthouse keeper’s wife, that makes sense. Tending the house and taking care of her family.”

“Right. So I’m thinkin, if we make a mess, and then we hang out, midnight comes and she’ll show to clean it up.”

“So you want to antagonize the otherwise peaceful ghost by intentionally causing problems in her home?”

“I feel like the way you said it means you don’t like my plan?”

“No, no I do not."

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Let's just relax and enjoy the evening, and if we don't spot her, we'll be more proactive tomorrow, okay?”

“Are you just sayin that cus you want me to forget the ghost and just spend it with you in bed?”

“No, of course not...But would you be complaining if I were?”

He pretended to look thoughtful for a moment. “No.”

“Thought not. But seriously that's not the goal. I just think your plan is shit, and I need more time to think of a better one.”

A sudden sound startled you from your sleep, sitting up with a soft gasp and looking around the room. You couldn’t see anything as you peered into the darkness, so you reached over for your phone, checking the time and flicking on the flashlight option. It was just after midnight, and there was nothing there. Your heart pounding, you laid back down, trying to get back to sleep. And if you snuggled a little closer into the circle of Derek’s arms in the process, there was no one there to say so (or at least you hoped not).

You were just drifting off again when the sound came again, a steady thumping, dragging sound. This time as you swung your legs to the side and moved to get up, until a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist.

You screamed.

“Shh, baby girl it’s me,” Derek hissed, face appearing out of the darkness. “Don’t move.”

“Why not? What’s going on?” you snapped back.

“I think we’re not alone.”

“Not funny, Derek.”

“I wish I was jokin. But I’m not. I heard a noise, and then I saw someone in the corner, movin around. But she isn’t there now.”

“Seriously, stop. I’m freaked out enough.”

Before he could respond, you saw a flickering grey shape out of the corner of your eye and yelped, turning as fast as humanly possible toward it. But it was gone. Suddenly your fun, silly ghost hunting/romantic getaway weekend was too real, and you wanted out. You stood quickly, throwing on whatever discarded clothing you could find over your pajamas.

“Y/N, baby, what are you doing?” Derek still sounded groggy, confused by your hasty motions.

Another shape flickered in your periphery and you jumped.

“Getting out of here,” you whined. “This is too creepy, even for me.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he sighed, laying back down, much to your frustration. “Just try to get some sleep, I’ll be right beside you, and we’ll go in the mornin. Okay?”

You stopped, chewing nervously on your lower lip as you considered his point. It wasn’t like you were close to home, or there would be anywhere else open for you to go to now. But on the other hand, much more immediately, there was a definite ghost in the building, and harmless or not according to the legends, that was going to keep from you getting any sleep.

“I knew you’d see things my way baby,” he teased, making you frown in confusion.

You turned back to the bed and noticed an odd shape to the mattress, as if there was indeed another person laying in the bed beside Derek. One arm over his face to block out the light you still had on, he hadn’t noticed yet.

“Derek,” you forced out through clenched teeth. “I haven’t come back to bed yet.”

“Very funny, Y/N.”

“I’m serious.”

Something in your clipped tone caught his attention, and slowly, as if scared to, he lowered his arm and looked beside him. Realizing there was no one there, he threw himself away from the odd mattress depression.

“Holy fuck!” he shouted as he tumbled to the floor and scrambled to stand.

Things seemed to pass in a blur then, as you both rushed about and fled the room, not stopping until you were running down the driveway, toward where you had left the car that afternoon. It wasn’t until you got all the way there and paused to lean against it and catch your breath that he realized that he hadn’t grabbed the keys.

“Shit. What do we do now?” you asked, “do we go back?”

“Hell no! I was in bed with a ghost, I’m not going in there again!”

“So you’re proposing we just, what? Camp out?”

“Sure. I grabbed a couple blankets cus I figured we were gonna sleep out here and get our stuff tomorrow anyway, we can just find someplace to settle in.”

“You’re insane, no,” you tried to protest, but he was already giving you that pleading face you found nearly impossible to resist and you had barely gotten the last syllable out when you felt your resolve crack. You sighed. “Fine. We’ll tentless camp. Why not? This weekend is already weird.”

It took some time looking around, thankfully guided by moonlight, since the interruption meant that your phone was only half charged and you didn’t want to waste all the battery as a flashlight, before you found a reasonable place to set up. It was close enough to the inn that getting back would be easy but far enough away that you felt like you had some semblance of privacy, and wouldn’t likely face a ghost again.

“The view is kinda nice anyway,” Derek observed as he laid out one of the blankets. “The moon and ocean and all. Sean would love it. Never look up from his camera.”

You chuckled in agreement. “He barely does anyway.”

He tugged you by the hand and you followed where he led, settling in on the blanket and cuddling close against the chill of the night air and the sea breeze. He wrapped the second one around both of you and tucked your head beneath his chin. The two of you laid in silence for a while, and you half-wondered if he had fallen asleep as you let his heartbeat lull you closer to it yourself.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, startling you.

“Sorry? What for?” you leaned away to look at him.

“That I planned this weekend and it’s all messed up. I didn’t think the ghost would be that...real. And now instead of something cool and Halloween, or sexy romantic, we’re risking freezing to death and laying outside. Some trip.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I thought it was a good idea or I wouldn’t have agreed to it. Besides, the weekend’s not over yet.”

“May as well be.”

“Nope. You want to know why?”

He made a noise of askance and you smirked. “We’re all alone out here just as much as in our room, or apparently more.”

“What are you gettin at…?”

You leaned in so that your lips were almost against his ear. “This is pretty romantic, don’t you think? The night is young, the moon is full,” you pulled back to make eye contact and be sure he caught your meaning clearly, “so what are you going to do with me?”

Words forgone, he pressed his lips hungrily to yours, rolling your body beneath his, and suddenly, you were no longer concerned with ghosts, or freezing, or anything but him.

The next morning, rising with the dawn, you and Derek slipped back inside the B&B. You secretly hoped that it was early enough that no one would be awake to spot you, and that the two of you could go back to bed for a few more hours. The siren call of a warm, soft mattress, and maybe of a repeat of the previous night if you were very lucky, made you forget all about the haunting for a time.

Back in your room, you found evidence that someone, or something, had stayed in there when you left rather hastily. The bed was made, your discarded things folded or rearranged neatly.

“It’s probably just an early maid service, right?” you asked, laughing nervously.

“I dunno, the legends did say she liked to keep a tidy house…” he answered, the same twinge in his voice. “I think we should say thank you, just in case.”

“Right. Thanks, if it was you...Rue?” you said to the air. “Sorry we freaked out last night…”

“Do you want to stay?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem so terrifying in the daylight…what do you think?”

“I think I didn’t get enough sleep to drive just yet, so we should...take a nap.”

You rolled your eyes, shedding your dew wet clothes and crawling back under the sheets beside him. “A nap sounds nice. And Derek?”

“Yeah baby girl?”

“As interesting as this was, next year let's stick to Bigfoot.”

“Deal.” He laughed.

#I tried not to go too heavy on the 'Derek would be the first to die in a horror movie' joke but let's be real. It's true #in fact his track record for surviving horror movies is 0/2 (sorry Derek/Theo...)#I had a lot of fun writing it #and I hope it was a fun and slightly spooky fic #Derek Sandoval x reader #Bad Samaritan fic #Halloween 2k21 event #ghost tw #(I'm tired. but excited to be done. So I've forgone editing #.that's a future Shye problem.)

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER NINE: BODIES

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2600 Rating: M - strong language, canon-typical violence, gun violence, blood, major injury, character death, Bad Samaritan spoilers, angst A/N: I have spent months falling in love with this boy, and I want you to know, this hurts me as much as it does you...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sean snapped as soon as Derek greeted him.

“Out,” he answered vaguely, swallowing nervously.

He was prepared to lie to his best friend but hoped to get through the conversation without actually having to. He wanted to tell Sean what had happened, but the last thing Y/N would want was her cousin freaking out about her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I was busy and couldn’t answer my phone, or the seven messages you left dawg. I know this guy’s crazy but you’re starting to get there too.”

“Quit taking the piss, Derek. This is serious.”

“I know. Chill. If we’re going to be laying low for a while, we’ll need stuff.”

“Well while you were out shopping,” Sean said sarcastically and Derek felt himself getting annoyed, “things got worse. I’m on my way back from the hospital--”

“Oh yeah? How is Y/N? She call you to pick her up or something?” Derek asked, half-mumbling into the phone which he pressed between his shoulder and head while he fumbled to find his house key in the dark.

He was surprised that she had actually looped Sean in, but not upset by it. In fact, he was glad, some of the tension he’d been feeling settling. If they were both in the same place, he and his Mom could meet up with them and everyone would be together, safe.

“Yeah, Erendreich put Riley on a ventilator…” Sean sounded like he was going to cry, and the relief he’d been feeling changed to an icy shard of terror. “Did you say Y/N?”

Shit. She hadn’t told him after all. And with the news about Riley, Derek didn’t want to either.

“No. Nah, dawg, you’re paranoid now, or too tired or something. Hearing things. Why would Y/N be at a hospital?” He tried to laugh it off, hoping it just sounded like nerves.

He lowered the phone from his ear, setting it on speaker and turning on the flashlight. As he struggled to find the keyhole, he heard Sean say something about how Erendreich was trying to “systematically fuck his life” and then about not being able to video call right now. He frowned at the comment and the unusually dark living room.

“Ma?” Derek called, getting only silence in return.

“Derek, would you listen to me, please?” Sean begged, but it barely registered. Something was wrong, and he could feel it.

Ignoring his friend on the phone, which he tucked into his jacket pocket, he moved further into the house. Remembering a trick their mom had taught Bela when she was having problems with a boy in the neighborhood (and refused to let her big brother walk her everywhere), he rearranged his keys to poke out between his fingers like brass knuckles.

“Ma? Are you home?” he called again.

He crossed the living room to the kitchen door, hand reaching around the frame for the lightswitch. His eyes fell immediately to his mother on the floor, a pool of blood behind her head, and the other figure at the table, a knife between their shoulders. He hadn’t even had time to process who it was when he felt a sudden impact across his back. Derek pitched forward, dropping the keys and barely managing to stop himself from slamming face first into the tile. Abandoning his investigation, he pushed quickly back to his feet and ran around the corner for the stairs. He needed to get away, or at least to find something better to defend himself with.

You were discharged from the hospital a surprisingly short time later, with bandages and pain medications and instructions to rest and follow up with your regular doctor. Somehow you had gotten away with no broken bones and no abrasions that needed stitches, nothing that needed to keep you there. A stroke of luck.

When Derek and Sean didn't answer their phones, you fought down a bubble of panic, trying to tell yourself they were just being safe and not giving Erendreich a way to track them. But something still didn't feel right as you called an uber, or as you sat in the back, waiting for him to take you to 4855 Northwest Hamilton.

Derek managed to make it up the stairs to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and looking around wildly for something to brace it with. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, maybe climb out the window, get back in his car, and run? At least he knew he had an old baseball bat somewhere — in the closet maybe? — and it would be better to have that when this psycho came in than nothing.

The door burst open as Erendreich came in with a yell, swinging a bat (probably the one Derek had just been thinking of) at him and connecting solidly with his stomach. He fell to the side, winded and struggling to breathe past the rapidly contracted muscle, and collided with his desk.

“Oh shit,” he barely managed to hiss as he dove out of the way and Erendreich, still shouting, brought the bat down where he had been moments before.

Seeing no other option, Derek swung wildly, fists colliding with the other man’s face, and he felt a smug sort of satisfaction at the solid sound of the impacts. Erendreich stepped back, Derek continued forward, not wanting to give in now that he finally had a chance to lash out. This man had hurt Y/N, had threatened his best friend, and had killed his family. There was no way in hell Derek was going to let him get away with it, not anymore.

Erendreich’s face set in a grim line as he bumped lightly into the closet doors. Then Derek was sailing backward, stumbling into the shelf where his high school sports trophies and other knick knacks were displayed. He felt the shelves, and the sharp points of several of the awards, dig into his back and his breath, which he was just starting to get back, was knocked from him again.

Erendreich screamed, an almost animal sound of rage, as the bat smashed the top of the shelf, just narrowly missing Derek’s head. He stumbled forward, out of the immediate path of the bat and remembered the small handgun hiding in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, protection in case the guys from the neighborhood ever came looking for his brothers.

As he moved for it, he made the mistake of putting his back to the psycho killer in his bedroom, a mistake that only occurred to him as the bat made contact again, slamming in quick succession into his back as it had downstairs and then the back of his head.

Derek lost his balance, lungs screaming for air and head spinning from the impact as he collapsed face-first onto the ground. Still, he tried to drag himself forward, groaning in pain with every movement, to get to the gun, or get back on his feet, or something.

“Looking for this?” Erendreich taunted, whistling for his attention like Derek was a dog, “this you stole? Huh?”

He bristled at the implication, feeling a burning rage in his stomach as if that was the most despicable thing the guy had done. Or maybe it was just his mind trying to cover up his fear and the grim, crushing certainty that he was about to die.

He managed to roll onto his side, to position himself to at least sort of see the man looming over him.

Erendreich continued to speak, his droning insults and mockery blurring as Derek’s consciousness began to waver.

“You are beyond correction,” Erendreich concluded with a scoff.

Derek felt cold metal against his skin. His thoughts leapt to Y/N, praying with what might be his final moments that she would be okay, that she would forgive him for leaving her like this.

The house was dark as you pulled up, the only lights coming from Derek's still open car door and a single window on the upper floor. Your ride stopped, and your hand froze on the handle, eyes fixed on a familiar car in the shadows across the street.

“I'm so sorry,” you said, smiling apologetically at the driver. “I must have put the wrong address in. Would you mind? It's just a few houses up. 4859.”

The driver shrugged, slowly continuing down the street, the tires crunching on the pavement seeming to match the churning in your stomach. Every beat of your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest as you finally exited, walking up the neighbor’s drive as if everything was normal before doubling back across the lawns to Derek’s house when the driver was gone. If Erendreich was there he probably wasn’t lying in wait for you, to finish off what he started. But the nerves in your body still sang as you approached, pain momentarily forgotten in fear.

The sedan. Sean not answering his phone. Derek not answering his. You didn’t dare call the house. Derek’s car. The front door open behind the screen.

You struggled to take a deep, calming breath as you crouched in the bushes, looking for some sign, any sign that things weren’t horribly, horribly wrong. A sharp crack echoed through the still night and there was no question in your mind what it was.

You smothered a sob into your hands as you hunkered further down, waiting for some further sign. You wanted to run inside immediately. You wanted to find Derek, so badly that it felt like you couldn’t breathe until you did. But if Erendreich was inside, and there was no doubt he was, you had to wait.

Seconds dragged on. Everything was too still, too silent. You wondered if the neighbors heard anything, if anyone had called 911. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. You looked down to silence it, seeing that it was Sean and typing out a frantic message:

‘Cant talk. Will soon.’

In your momentary distraction, you almost missed someone exit the house, looking up through the leaves of your hiding space to see a shadowy figure strolling away, climbing into the stupid silver car that was going to haunt your nightmares from now on, and driving away as if it were a quick grocery stop for milk. As soon as he had rounded the bend, you were on your feet and dashing into the house.

“Derek?” you called, into the silence and darkness. “Mrs...Ma?”

You made a quick round of the living room, looking for signs of disturbance, not bothering with lights as you navigated the layout that felt almost instinctual after months of visits. Finding nothing, you made a choice. There had been a light on the second floor, so there was almost certainly someone up there. Feeling like there were iron straps around your chest, you took the stairs in twos, moving as fast as you dared despite the way your body protested.

The scene that greeted you when you rounded the corner into Derek’s bedroom made you recoil, hands pressed to your mouth to suppress a scream. It was trashed, like someone had gone through it smashing indiscriminately, but you barely noticed, eyes falling to the prone form beside the bed and the dark liquid starting to pool around his head.

“No...no no no no,” you couldn’t help chanting the word, like if you said it enough times, it would somehow stop reality as you dropped to your knees beside him. “Derek, baby, please say something?”

Your tears, spilling hot and fast down your cheeks, made his form blurry, too much to see exactly where or how he’d been hurt. But you could still tell there was blood everywhere. You felt blindly for his wrist with one hand, while the other fumbled to unlock your phone. Just kneeling beside him you could feel the sticky liquid starting to seep into your jeans and your fingers were slick where you’d touched him and the floor. You took a deep, shuddering breath as you set your phone on speaker beside you and tried to find a pulse.

As the operator answered, you tried to explain what you’d found, what you knew, all the while alternating it with begging Derek to keep fighting, promising that help was on it’s way.

“You promised,” you whispered, leaning close and trying to find a wound, hoping to staunch the flow of blood, “you said you wouldn’t leave me, Derek. Please. Just hang on.”

You were sitting on the curb, glaring daggers at the news anchor talking about a domestic disturbance gone wrong, clearly trying to paint Derek as the culprit instead of a victim, when a familiar truck pulled up. Sean practically tripped over himself getting out of the car and scanned the crowd, looking for something, or someone.

Your body groaned in protest as your cousin spotted you and pulled you up into a crushingly tight hug that you did your best to return at equal strength.

“Y/N, thank god you’re alright,” he breathed, still not letting go.

“Yeah. For now. I...got here after it happened. I found...god Sean there was so, so much blood,” you buried your face into his shoulder with a sob. “I was just waiting for the scene to clear, and then I was going to go to the hospital.”

“Are you hurt?” Sean asked, pulling away to look you over. “What? No. I mean yes cus someone, probably Cale, tried to run me over earlier, but that’s not...someone should be there for him when he wakes up.”

“I was on the phone with him. I heard the gunshot. I thought…”

You shook your head. “He’s still breathing, which I guess is something. His mom and father were in the kitchen...this is my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was with me, in the hospital, freaking out but safe. And I sent him back here when we realized that none of this was a coincidence. If I had just--”

“You might have both been here instead. This wasn’t your fault, Y/N. Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital before I go after Erendreich.”

“Before you...excuse me?!” You stared at your cousin in shock and horror, barely remembering to keep your voice low and not catch the attention of the still gathered crowd. “Are you out of your fucking mind Sean?”

“He came after Mom and Don, tried to kill Riley and Derek, and you, because he’s trying to destroy what I love, everything in my life. It won’t stop until I finish it.”

“No. If that’s true, that’s all the more reason that we should both go to the hospital, where there is a lovely, protective, police presence and sit with our partners and be there for them, and wait. this. out.”

“Riley won’t talk to me. She blames me. And she should.”

“Fine. You sit with Derek, I’ll go to Riley. She probably doesn’t hate me just for being related to you. The point is you’re not going after Erendreich, especially alone. Please Sean.”

“I don’t have a choice. I have to end it.”

“That is the job of the police and the FBI, not a 20-something valet in over his head.”

“Are you going to let me give you a ride?”

You sighed with a nod. At least the drive would give you more time to try to convince Sean not to be so stupid.

#yes this is that chapter #I considered several horrible terrible wonderful song titles as a chapter title #I should have used one of them because this one is bleh #but y'all are gonna be mad at me already #poking the proverbial hornet's nest seemed unwise #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #gun tw #violence tw #angst #whump #Tragedy Thursday #aaaand RUN AWAY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME I'M SORRY

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Note

I mean you will definitely do a one shot where there is some kind of freak Portland heatwave, and Derek x Ryne take advantage of it 🥵

A/N: Thank you again for this wonderful prompt. It was the perfect push to write the fic I've been wanting to do for a while. I know you said Derek x Ryne but I went with reader-insert rather than 3rd person. I was a little sad to actually fill this though because now I don't have a pretty picture to greet me every time I go to my inbox :(…😅 Words: 3508 (I may have gotten a little carried away) Rating: E - oral (both male and female receiving), penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, minor drug use, violation of food safety regulations?, fingering, overstimulation

“Hey baby girl,” Derek said with a grin, catching you around the waist as you walked past him where he had, only moments before, been practically melting on the podium.

“Ugh,” you groaned, twisting out of his grasp. “It’s too hot for that shit Derek.”

“What shit? Hugging my girlfriend?” he laughed, releasing you.

“YES! No physical contact. Too much exchange of body heat.”

“I can get behind that,” Sean joked, brushing his sweaty hair away from his eyes. “I’d like that to be a rule forever.”

You stuck your tongue out at your cousin, turning back around to kiss Derek soundly out of spite. Your boyfriend’s hands fell casually to your hips, one hand slipping into your back pocket to pull you closer.

Laughing, you stepped back, swatting him playfully. “What did I just say?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I’m getting very mixed signals.” He pouted, trying to chase your lips as you pulled away.

You shook your head, still laughing as you walked into Nino’s.

“Y/N! Good! You’re here!” Nino said, greeting you by the door.

You frowned in confusion, puzzled why he’d be looking for you in particular.

“Tell the boys to come inside. They’ll cook out there. I need everyone inside. I was just on my way.”

Used to Nino’s bizarre moods at this point, you shrugged, turning around to deliver his message. You smiled, biting your lip to try and hide it, when, despite your no-contact pronouncement, Derek hooked his pinky finger through yours to walk with you.

“It is too hot,” Nino proclaimed dramatically once everyone had gathered in the dining room. “No one will want to eat today. I’m closing early.”

Immediately, whispers began to circulate the small crowd, hoping that might mean a night off, and if you were very lucky, a paid one. You shook your head at Derek’s raised eyebrow, warning him not to get his hopes up too far, when Nino clearly wasn’t finished with his proclamation.

“We’re all already here, so instead we’ll do inventory and cleaning.” A chorus of groans followed, and Derek and Sean turned to leave.

“Wait, boys, boys. I’ll pay you your usual base if you stay,” Nino called to them. “We need all the help to get this done.”

They exchanged glances, faces indicating clearly that they were not buying the idea. Not wanting to be abandoned to the drudgery, you thought quickly. A devious smirk crept across your face as something occurred to you.

“Just think,” you purred quietly in Derek’s ear, pressing your chest to his back to reach it, “all those dark, secluded corners.”

You could see it the moment his resolve broke, his groan barely suppressed, and Sean shook his head in disgust.

“You’re on your own mate,” he said, clapping Derek on the shoulder. “I’m not wasting a potential night off.” As he passed, he added a quickly muttered “you’re evil” at you that made you laugh.

Not long into the laborious work you'd all been tasked with, most of the staff had shed their button-downs (and any other pieces of uniform they thought they could get away with), leaving most of you in sweat-soaked tank tops and rolled up pant legs. The large box fans set up in the kitchen and hall did little to cut the oppressive heat, and the exertion only seemed to make it worse.

Bored, and wanting to make good on your promise, you set aside your bucket and sponge and went looking for Derek. When you found him, he was helping one of the busboys unload boxes of dry goods so they could be gone through. Enjoying the flex and ripple of his muscles, you paused, watching for a few moments before catching the teenager’s attention and gesturing with your head that he should go. Before Derek could notice that he’d been abandoned, you slid into the space between him and the shelf.

“Hi,” he said with an almost bashful grin, still reaching above his head.

“Hi,” you answered with a smirk. “Am I interrupting anything?”

He made a face like he was trying to decide, resolve cracking when you called his bluff and pretended to leave. He looped one arm around your waist, the other forearm resting on the shelf above you, leaning close. You leaned up, languidly pressing your lips to his as you snaked your arms around his neck.

“I thought you said it was too hot for any...exchange?” Derek asked, pulling away with a smirk.

You scrunched up your face. “I’m allowed to break my own rule. Especially when you look sexy all...sweaty.” Your gaze trailed unabashedly over his exposed biceps.

“And can your rule breaking solve the heat problem?”

“When have you ever known me not to have a brilliant idea?” you smirked, slipping back out of the circle of his hold, turning back and crooking a finger at him. “Follow me.”

Making sure the coast was clear, you led Derek down into the basement of the restaurant. The space was mostly reserved for laundry, but the spot you were headed for stood out, a large stainless steel door on the far wall.

"Ta-dah!" You said with a tiny hint of sarcasm as you gestured at it. "The perfect place to...break a different kind of sweat."

“This is a freezer," Derek said incredulously. "You wanna fuck in a freezer? Aren’t there laws against that shit?”

“Oh now you care about laws?” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Relax, it won’t violate any health codes. The door broke like two years ago so it doesn’t get used for anything, but I think Nino forgot about it, cus it’s still got power and stays cold, just not as cold as it could. Better than A/C and probably the least unhygienic place we could do it. Mostly it's where the line cooks hide to get high. Something about the temperature and smoke detectors, I don’t know. I don’t totally listen.”

“So you’re saying there’s a quiet, secret place I get to fuck my girlfriend, while we’re getting paid, and there might be a joint hidden somewhere we can share after?”

“And the best part, it’s not hotter than Satan’s asshole.”

“Did I win the lotto too?”

You laughed, opening the freezer door, taking him by the hand and backing your way exaggeratedly inside. “Jackpot’s up to you.”

You locked eyes with him as you sank to your knees and wrapped your mouth around him. You kept your movements slow and teasing, gradually taking more with each bob of your head until you couldn't take any more. Derek moaned, inhaling sharply and burying his hands in your hair as you stroked your tongue along his length.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed as you moved, the needy tone sending a shockwave through you.

His fingers tightened, just on the gentle side of pulling, and you hummed. The vibration ran through him, his head falling back against the wall and hips jerking involuntarily toward you.

“Christ Baby Girl,” he cried out.

Taking pleasure in the way he came undone for you, you picked up your speed. Hollowing your cheeks, you applied a little extra pressure to his cock while your hands curled around his thighs, nails grazing over his skin.

Without warning, he lost the last thread of control he had, spilling into your mouth, your name falling like a prayer. Letting him ride out his high, you eventually rocked back on your heels, wiping demurely with your fingers. Smirking up at him, you slipped your slick-coated fingers into your mouth.

He groaned, reaching down, framing your face in his hands and pulling you up into a kiss. He sucked gently on your lower lip and you cracked your jaw, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. You pressed your body against his, the thrill of his pleasure heightening your own to a practically unbearable fire beneath your skin.

“Fuck baby girl,” he murmured, breath ghosting over your skin. “That was amazing. You’re amazing. I don’t know if I can top that…” he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot under your jaw, nibbling and sucking at your skin. “But if you stand here, I’ll sure as fuck try.”

The growl in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and you leaned into him, moaning softly. His hands trailed up and down your sides, large fingers splayed out and raising goosebumps where they passed.

“Are you sure that standing is the best way to do that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He drew back, fixing you with a look that you knew all too well, the one that said he was taking your question as a challenge and you were in for it now. You swallowed, somewhat nervous with anticipation.

Derek wasted no time now, lowering himself along your body, kissing and sucking along your sweat-soaked skin as he went. Using his hands on your hips, he moved you so that your back was on the wall, the juxtaposition of being pressed against the cool metal making you yelp and arch closer to him.

“You ready baby?” he asked, now the one looking up at you from his place at your feet.

“That feels like a loaded question,” you said, instinctively reaching for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours. “But with you, for anything.”

His expression softened, locking eyes as a moment of unexpected tenderness passed between you at your words. Almost as quickly as it came, it was gone again though, replaced with renewed hunger.

His lips started now at the bend of your knee, blazing a path up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, hand tracing the same path along the outside. You could feel and hear the way he breathed you in, seeming lost in the sensation of your flesh. As he reached your core he suddenly stopped, wrapping his other hand tightly on your calf.

In a split second, he lifted you, muscles rippling beautifully in the edge of your vision, and hooked your leg over his shoulder. The new angle spread you wide for him, and kept you pinned at his mercy, upper back pressed flat to the chill wall. The flat of his tongue swept over your slit as his head disappeared between your legs.

You bucked into his touch, pressing yourself against his mouth as he sucked on your clit, crying out at the stimulation. His fingers continued to trace up and down your legs, making distracting shapes on the back of your thighs and curves of your ass. His tongue passed over and over you, sometimes matching those shapes across your sensitive nub and others probing inside. Moans and gasps spilled out of your mouth in time with him. Sparks danced beneath your skin, feeling both hot as your climax rushed toward you and cold from the room around you.

“Derek,” you whined, sharp and needy, begging.

The number of sensations you were feeling all at once made your head spin. You reached down for him again, overwhelmed, wanting him to stop and keep going all at once, and clawed at whatever you could reach. The drag of your nails across his scalp made him moan, the vibration proving the final tipping point to send you crashing over into orgasm. You screamed his name, vision flashing and limbs turning to jello as he worked you through the high.

Eventually, he set you back on the ground, sliding his hands soothingly back up over your hips and ribcage as he climbed to his feet. He looked down at your flushed face and heaving chest, a satisfied grin painted across his features. By now, you realized as you tried to steady yourself on shaking legs, Derek had had plenty of time (and motivation, in the form of the sounds he pulled from you) to recover. The sight of his cock, hard and beaded with precum again, made your core muscles flutter, clenching around nothing.

You kissed him, the taste of each other mingling on your tongues as they danced.

“You win,” you panted as you clung to him. “That was...you always know how to make me feel good...I just…” you fumbled for words to describe what you wanted to say and came up with none.

“Never thought I’d see you speechless,” he teased. “Says all I need to hear.”

“I hate you,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“I was going to suggest another round, but if you hate me…” he turned, pretending to pull away when you tugged him back by the back of his neck.

“Don’t you know hate sex is the best kind of sex?” You waggled your eyebrows at him, and he grinned.

“You sure?” he asked and you nodded, pressing your lips to his.

He pulled you closer against him, one hand splayed on your lower back and the other scooping underneath you. Taking the prompt, you jumped up. He lined himself up easing his way into you as you hooked your legs around his hips.

“Oh,” you both breathed in unison, tension rising as you slid together, your body seeming to pull him deeper as it responded to the way he brushed your most sensitive areas.

Seated fully inside you, your forehead pressed to his, he began to rock you. It was all you could do to keep up, clinging to him, nails scrabbling at his back. Each steady thrust pulled him nearly out and before he buried himself back to the hilt. You marveled at the feel of his arms and shoulders, muscles flexing and rippling beneath your touch as he moved you like you were weightless.

Stumbling, he turned, lowering you to the floor, spreading you out on the pile of discarded clothing. He laid down on top of you, weight heavy but not unpleasantly so and skin slick on yours. As your hair splayed out around you, Derek paused, pressing up on his arms and staring down at you.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, eyes roaming over you.

You felt your face heat, like this tiny expression of affection and attraction was somehow more exposing and intimate than anything the two of you had done. Part of you itched to get away from the attention.

“I’ll keep saying it till you believe me, Y/N. I can’t believe I got lucky and you’re mine.”

“Derek…” you breathed, eyes welling with tears.

One of his hands brushed your cheek tenderly as he bent his head. His hips resumed their rhythm, your bodies moving together, at odds with the slow, burning passion in the way you kissed.

You moaned his name as he broke to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat and across your collarbones, tracing the lines of them before settling on your chest. His tongue laved over first one nipple and the other, teasing the already pert peaks. You writhed, arching into the many points of contact between you, lifting your head off the ground enough to nip at the spot beneath his ear, teasing it with lips and teeth and tongue.

He groaned, thrusts beginning to stutter as he neared the edge. He snapped his hips faster, one hand joining his mouth to toy with your breasts before travelling down between you and finding your clit with ease. As drove into you, pelvis meeting yours and dick hitting your g-spot with nearly every move, he used his thumb to press and rub small, quick circles across the nub.

You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening. The sharp sting of a gentle bite twinged your nipple and you cried out. The sound proved to be the breaking point for him.

“Y/N!” He shouted, giving a few more uneven thrusts as his seed filled you, coating your walls.

As he pulled out, it mingled with your slick and coated your thighs. Unwilling to accept that you hadn’t found your own release, he locked eyes with you as he slowly slid two fingers in to replace his cock, working them in time with the digit still still strumming your clit. Your hands fell to your sides, fists clenching and unfurling around nothing.

“Derek,” you gasped. “Derek, please. I’m so close,” you nearly sobbed, feeling overstimulated and desperate for relief.

Suddenly he pulled away, motion stopping and you whined.

“I want to taste you come undone again, baby girl,” he said, voice scratchy. “Cum for me, cum all over my mouth.”

His breath ghosted over your core as he spoke. Giving you no other warning, his fingers slipped back inside as he lapped at your folds. Time seemed to stand still as he worked you over with fingers and lips in unison. It could have been seconds or centuries, kept on the edge and whining breathlessly, when suddenly he crooked his digits just right, and you exploded. Everything went white, fire coursing through you and a thousand points of light dancing on your nerves.

Dressing slowly, limbs feeling like lead, you looked around the freezer. It seemed like such an odd spot to hang out, and even weirder to use as a romantic escape, but after what might have been the best sex of your life, you couldn’t help of thinking about it that way.

“Check it,” Derek said suddenly, startling you out of your thoughts. “All we need’s a light.”

He waved a blunt at you, and you vaguely wondered where he’d found it, or how long it had been stashed there. Still, you were sure the boys in the kitchen wouldn’t ever miss it, and the buzz of a high sounded like the perfect way to round off.

“You and Sean smoke all the time,” you pointed out. “Don’t you have one?”

“Nah, it’s usually his. And I keep one in my car.”

“Hmm,” you frowned, scanning and thinking about where you might store a lighter if you were nineteen and trying not to get caught. Bending over dramatically to dig through the sole box still on the shelves, you smirked, feeling Derek’s eyes on your ass as you did.

“Bingo!” You emerged, holding up an old matchbook victoriously.

Derek took it from you, tucking the smoke between your kiss-bruised lips. He struck one of the little sticks against the package, leaning close and cupping a hand around it as he lit it for you. You breathed deeply, exhaling the cloud of smoke lazily around you.

As you take another hit, he pulled you down into his lap as he relaxed against the wall. You tucked your head under his chin, holding the blunt up to his lips. His arms curled comfortably around your waist.

“You good, Baby Girl?” he asked, taking a deep drag.

“Better than,” you answered, smiling softly, biting back the rest of your words, though from the look he gave, catching the way you trailed off, you were pretty sure he knew anyway even if they wouldn’t come out outloud.

“Even though--” you cut him off with a laugh and a shake of your head.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got precautions, and it’s one time,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “it’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“I...alright,” he said, and you felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders.

You faded into silence, sharing the blunt and kisses lazily between you

“We should go back to work soon…” he said reluctantly when half of it had burned away.

“Mmm, I guess,” you hummed, making no effort to stand, and if anything snuggling down further into him.

“Uh, Y/N?” Derek asked hesitantly, when you finally made to leave. “Is there another way out of here?”

“No. Why?” you frowned, looking up from tucking the matches back where you had found them.

“It’s stuck.”

“What?” you were at his side in second, staring in horror as you watched the handle jiggle uselessly. “Maybe we can force it open?”

Nodding in agreement, Derek pulled the handle and threw his shoulder into trying to shove the heavy slab of metal to no avail. Even when you added your own weight to it, the door refused to budge.

You chewed nervously at your lip, muttering, “I know they said that the door doesn’t close right. This shouldn’t have...fuck.”

“Can we call somebody to come let us out?” he pulled out his phone only to frown and shove it back in his pocket when he realized there was no signal.

“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly, shaking your head. “This was supposed to be a fun little...I don’t know what I was thinking and now we’re stuck in a freezer.”

“Well, someone will come looking for us eventually,” he took a seat beside you. “And...this is the first time all week I ain’t been sweatin’.”

“But--”

He cut off your protest with a finger on your lips and leaned in to kiss you again. “Take the win, Baby Girl. This was hot. The good kind a hot. And now, we got more time to ourselves.”

#Is it weird that I'm more comfortable writing reader-insert smut than 3rd person?#I gave up on clothing and used every action movie director's favorite technique: the jump cut #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #Derek Sandoval smut #Spicy Saturday #might probably need another round of edits but that is a Future Shye problem #(scheduled for a time. not actually when I'm awake and posting it)

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Taken Care Of (Derek x Reader)

A/N: I love a sick fic. It’s good, low-stakes hurt/comfort style fluff. The title was originally “Is it really love if he’s never seen you shoot snot rockets?” but since there was no actual said rockets, it seemed misleading.

Apparently, also my writing is prophetic because I’m finishing this under feverish duress of some sort of cold (its 81 degrees, I’m wearing a hoodie, and I'm freezing. This is bullshit.)

Word Count: 2437

Rating: G - descriptions of illness (mostly pain, dizziness), crying and self-deprecation

For what will soon become obvious reasons, this is set pre-movie.

“Derek? What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing the school lobby quickly to greet him, your friends trailing behind a little slowly.

“Hey Baby Girl,” he said with a grin. “You've been so busy, I feel like I don't ever see you. I missed you,” he gave you that pout he was frustratingly good at, the one that made you melt like butter no matter what else was going on, as he laced his fingers between yours.

“So you decided to visit me at school?” As glad as you were to see him, part of you wished he hadn’t just shown up. This hadn’t been how you planned for him to be added to this part of your life, and it wasn’t exactly good timing.

“I thought we could get lunch? I didn't know you'd be hangin out with your friends. Don't let me interrupt.”

His words nudged you, and you hastily made introductions.

“Oh, so you're the mysterious Derek. I always knew Y/N had good taste,” Alli hummed, looking over him with a flirtatious hunger.

You felt your stomach clench at the look she gave him. It wasn’t quite jealousy, trusting him far too much for concern to ever cross your mind, but something like fear settled over you. Or maybe it was just the nausea you’d felt all week, you tried to tell yourself. Derek seemed to sense the tension you held in every part of your body, and gave your hand an affirming squeeze.

“I don't know about mysterious,” he chuckled, “Y/N reads me like an open book.”

Jen laughed. “Perfect answer,” she slung an arm over your shoulder with a grin. “I like him. Definitely approve.”

“Ladies,” Alexi said, interrupting on their way past. “As curious as we all are to meet and drool over the boy Y/N’s been keeping to herself, let her have him to herself.”

They hooked their arms through the other two’s elbows who planted their feet and refused to be dragged away. You couldn’t help but laugh at your friends' antics, as tired and slightly embarrassed as you were. Derek was grinning at them, still holding your hand and keeping you tucked against him.

“Wait wait,” Jen protested. “Y/N. You’re taking him to Aida’s right? You have to.”

“I don’t know…” the smirk on Alli’s face continued to roil your stomach. “I’d just take him home.”

“What’s Aida’s?” Derek asked, hiding his face in your hair, surprising you that he was actually embarrassed by your friends’ comments.

“Only the best food ever,” Alexi answered with a smile. “Y/N can tell you all about it on the way. Just do that cute thing and share a milkshake with two straws, or I’ll hunt you. Byyyye.”

Giving up on pulling the others, they decided to push you two out the doors instead. Rather than dealing with more of their nonsense, you let yourselves leave, and stopped just out of range.

“Aida’s is a place around the corner. Cheap. Definitely knows how to cater to the student crowd. Good food, pretty amazing milkshakes. And coffee has unlimited free refills in a two hour window.”

“Sounds great. I wanted to take you to lunch. Do you want to?”

“It’s no big deal,” you shrugged. “I go there all the time. We should do something special, since you came all this way.”

“Y/N. You know I don’t care about that. I’m happy anywhere you decide. Besides,” he leaned closer to purr in your ear, words like honey sending a shiver down your spine, “I want to know all your places.”

“You’re terrible. Maybe another time. It’s a longer walk but...I’m feeling ramen?”

“Lead the way.”

You felt your steps dragging as you and Derek walked, trying your best to hide it from your boyfriend. Your lungs burned despite the walk normally being well within manageable, and several times you stumbled, doing your best to stay upright in the wake of a wave of exhaustion.

“I know you wanted to get lunch,” you said suddenly, pausing, “but can't we just get to-go and go back to my place? I’m pretty tired, and I really don't…I was just hoping for a nap before work tonight.”

He caught your hesitation and frowned. “Baby, what's wrong?”

“Nothing. I just...haven't been feeling myself for a couple of days. It's been a hard semester, that's all. The walk’s making it hit me a little.”

Derek stopped, turning to face you, eyes tracing over your face. No doubt he was taking in the deep, almost bruise-colored bags under your eyes that were only sort of hidden by your makeup. Or maybe it was the glossy sheen behind them. Once he had spotted one, the other signs started to jump at him: your fever-flushed cheeks and discolored skin, your dry, cracked lips, the slump of your shoulders, even your unusually loose and ill-fitted clothing.

You watched his jaw working as he struggled to contain whatever thought was on the tip of his tongue.

“Go ahead and say it,” you said with a sigh, throat burning with the exaggerated airflow.

“Say what?”

“Whatever you’re holding back.”

“Baby girl, you look awful,” his tone was flat and his face apologetic.

You tried to laugh, but it came out in more of a wet cough that made you wince, partially from the feeling, but mostly from the look he now wore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not. It’s just a little cold,” you protested, the argument weakened by another coughing fit, this one hitting harder and leaving you wheezing. The fit, or the way you swayed, dizzy and unsteady as the blood rushed back out of your head when it was over, seemed to be the last straw.

“That’s it,” he said, tone serious and sharp. “We’re going to my mom’s and she and I are gonna take care of you.”

“But--”

“Nope. You lost your protest privileges.” He was already steering you back in the opposite direction of where you were headed. “You can call Nino and tell him you won’t be in while I drive.”

“I don’t want to rob you of lunch,” you tried to fight anyway, voice weak and throat raw.

“I’ll eat somethin at home. I can’t believe you’re still tryin to...” he shook his head, muttering fondly about stubborn Irish pains in the ass.

After begrudgingly making the call to Nino, who sounded shocked but completely forgiving, you decided on one last ditch effort to escape admitting to and dealing with being sick.

‘Help I’m being held hostage!’ you texted Sean.

His response came only a moment later. ‘What??????!’

‘Your stupid bestfriend is making me admit I’m sick and keeping me from going to work.’

‘He’ A second text came through a moment later. ‘Good.’

‘WHAT? You’re my cousin, you’re supposed to be on my side. Rescue me. Before he sics his mother on me.’

There was a long pause, more than you thought Sean should need to respond. When the message finally came through, you couldn’t help glaring at the screen.

‘I’d rather fight an actual bear than Ma Sandoval.’

‘Ah. So you’re in on it. I see how it is. Your betrayal will not be forgotten.’

‘Feel better soon.’ He added a smile to the end, and you could practically see it as his signature smirk.

‘I hate you.’

You sighed, shoving your phone back in your pocket and slumped down in the seat. You closed your eyes, hoping that it would combat the movement of the car and the effect it was having on your headache. You were frustrated at Derek for making you admit something was wrong (even though you knew really that he was right to) and at the fact that it seemed like the minute you admitted it, the symptoms seemed to get immediately worse.

The next thing you knew, you were stirred from a light doze by a change in movement. Instead of the steady, rocking vibration of the car and the smooth, cool feeling of the glass under your cheek, you were pressed close against something warm and solid, bobbing in a more natural, if uneven, rhythm. Your mind was sluggish but after a moment, and a soft, familiar chuckle as you buried your face into him to escape the sun in your eyes, you realized that it was because Derek was carrying you, bridal-style across the lawn and into his house.

You suppressed an involuntary whine and the urge to cling to him as he settled you down in his bed. Heavy blankets that smelled like him were pulled up around your shoulders, the sudden warmth making you realize how cold you’d been.

“Not sick my ass,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Get some sleep baby girl.”

The door clicked quietly behind him and you let the comfortable darkness pull you back under.

Some unknown time later, there was a knock that pulled you out of strange, feverish dreams and you croaked something that you hoped sounded like come in, squinting against the light that poured through behind the person.

“Y/N, you should wake up for a little while,” Derek’s mother said, flicking on a bedside lamp. “I made you soup.”

You pushed yourself up into a seated position and smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you Mrs. Sandoval.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, you are dating my son, you at least call me Ma. Just like everyone else.”

“Sorry,” you looked down bashfully, the word tasting foreign in your mouth. “Ma.”

“Why are you not taking care of yourself?” she tutted as she set the bowl down and sat on the edge of the bed. “You are so busy trying to be able to be a fancy lawyer and change the world but you can’t do that if you drop dead. And of a little cold?”

“I--”

“And you made Derek worry.” She placed a wrist against your forehead to check your temperature. “He’s going to fret over you forever, now. It’s how he shows his love. I hurt my back a few years ago, and still he is ‘Mami you shouldn’t reach so high, Mami let me get that for you, Mami don’t carry so many heavy groceries.’ Imagine when you have children. They won’t be able to scrape a knee. If your doctor doesn’t put you on bed rest, he will.”

Her words made you choke on the food you had just sipped into your mouth, sending you into a coughing fit that left you short of breath.

“See, you wouldn’t be doing that if you said you were sick to begin with.”

“I just...thought if I took some cold medicine, it would go away on its own. I’ve been so busy. And I didn’t...want anyone to worry, or think anyone would care?” you admitted sheepishly, looking down at the soup in your lap and the blanket over your legs and trying not to think too hard about what you were telling her.

“Mija, look at me,” she said firmly but kindly. When you didn’t follow her instruction, she used a hand to tilt your head up. “You have family now. You don’t have to do everything alone. Now eat your soup.”

The sentiment, and the matter-of-fact way she delivered it, broke down a dam inside you, and suddenly you were crying, and she was hugging you, rubbing small circles on your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against her. You wanted to attribute your overwhelmed feelings to being sick, but in your heart you knew: it was a kind of acceptance and love that you had never expected, especially from someone who didn’t even have to like you.

After sitting like that for several long minutes, letting you sob and offering you comfort, she shifted back to nurse-mode.

“You need more fluids, not letting them all out through your eyes. Eat your soup, and I’ll go make you tea,” she said, nudging you back to rest against the headboard and standing.

You laughed wetly and tried again to thank her, only to have it waved away.

“How is she?” Derek asked, almost as soon as he walked through the door a few hours later.

His mother laughed, shaking her head wryly. “She will survive. Just needs to rest for a few days. It’s a cold.”

“That’s like asking the tide to take a few days off,” he chuckled, until his mother fixed him with a glare.

“Maybe if you told her the truth about how you felt, and she didn’t feel like she was on her own trying to be everything, she would.”

“Ma that’s not--”

“Derek Michael Sandoval, do not argue with me,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You have been telling me for weeks now how much you love this girl, and it is obvious to a blind saint. Yet she is sick and doesn’t tell anyone because she thinks it would be a burden no one would want. Now what would give her that idea?”

Derek felt his stomach twist guiltily. It was true that he hadn’t told you he loved you, even though he was completely certain he did. But he thought it was for your benefit, to not scare you off by pushing too hard. He had never considered that it might be making things worse. He opened his mouth, looking for an answer to give his mother and found that he couldn’t get any words out. Instead, he just looked at her helplessly.

She rolled her eyes. “You are both so stupid.”

You were fast asleep when he slipped through the door, and as he got ready for bed as quietly as possible, he kept finding himself stopping to look down at you. You were burrowed deep in the blankets, wrapped in one of his hoodies in addition as the fever made you shiver. You looked so small and fragile and vulnerable there in his bed, and his chest ached with a need to protect you, a desire for taking care of you and loving to be his entire purpose in life for the rest of his life and it nearly knocked him on his ass.

As he slid under the covers beside you, you seemed to cuddle closer instinctively, and he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “And I know you can’t hear me right now, but baby girl, I promise, I’m gonna make sure you know, soon.”

#it wouldn't be me if it wasn't a little angsty #but mostly it's cute I think?#and more than a little cheesy #also guest starring Ma Sandoval because Moms make everything better #sick fic #Derek Sandoval x reader #Bad Samaritan fic #this ended up in a different direction than I intended but one I really like #I'm gonna go die now. goodnight #(coincidentally posted on Carlito's and thus Derek's birthday)#so that's fun

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER FOUR: MAYBE

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 3388 Rating: M - drinking/alcohol, making out, foreplay? (it’s not smut...but it almost is), canon-typical language, brief non-graphic reference to vomit A/N: aka how many near-misses and almost kisses can these two have Hopefully it’s not unclear, skips vs breaks...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“When did those two get together?” Riley asked, gesturing toward where Derek and Y/N sat facing each other on the floor, engaged in some sort of fierce, silent contest.

“They’re not,” Sean said with a shrug, so used to the pair pulling off on their own that he didn’t even notice anymore. He didn’t bother to mention that the only reason they weren’t was because they were both too stubborn to be the first to crack and admit it.

“With the amount of eye-fucking going on over there, are you sure there’s not…”

“Lalala!” Sean cried, slapping his hands over his ears and making a face of disgust.

You glanced up, puzzled, as you heard your cousin’s exclamation. He was sitting with Riley, curled up together, being disgustingly cute. Only she had apparently said something he didn’t want to hear, and he was being childish about it.

“I told you I’d win,” Derek crowed.

“That’s not fair!” you whined, turning your attention back to him.

“You lost bro, just admit I’m right.”

“No. I’m not gonna do that. A staring contest doesn’t even make sense to settle this. Also Qui-Gon was objectively a better jedi than Obi Wan and that’s not debatable.” You punctuated your words by tapping the back of your knuckles in the curled palm of the other hand.

“You just like him better because he’s Irish. I can’t believe you’re defending the prequels,” he shook his head, as if ashamed of you. “Next you’re going to say that Anakin and Padme made sense!”

“No. Of course not! Young, hot, bearded Ewan McGregor was right there! Anakin had to turn evil before he got sexy.” You fought back a grin as your argument got more passionate.

“Let’s settle this with an arm wrestle,” he stated, face impassive and serious.

“What is that going to prove?” you voice rose an octave with your confusion and disbelief.

“Nothin,” he said, dropping his voice low. “Maybe I just want an excuse to hold your hand again.”

You felt your face growing flushed and warm under the intensity of his smolder.

“Smooth,” you muttered begrudgingly, not wanting to stroke his ego too much. “Fine. Clear the coffee table.”

“Are they arguing about Star Wars?” Riley asked incredulously, and Sean shrugged. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since the four of them spent any real time together, but this was the first she was witnessing the new, bizarre friendship between Derek and Y/N.

“For now. They’ll cycle through at least four more topics before they come up for air. This one’s pop culture so the next should be…” he tapped his chin, thinking. “Health care reform? Which they agree on but find ways to shout anyway.”

As if on cue, the back of Derek’s hand slapped the coffee table, defeated, and Y/N started in on a furious rant about how incarcerating addicts and forcing them to quit was like slapping a bandaid onto someone who’d been impaled.

“Looks like you had the wrong topic,” Riley said, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “But you were close. Do they...do this often?”

“Argue? All the time.” Sean shrugged. It never really meant anything.

“So, how are we going to get them together?”

“No.” He took stock of the stubborn look on her face and grimaced. “Riley, no. I am not meddling.”

“Then you don’t have to,” she looked smug. “I will.”

-------

Seeing you coming, plates in hand, Derek rushed to hold open the door. You nodded in thanks, a small smile on your face.

“No one’s eating the carbonara tonight, bring the boys some carbonara,” you said, doing your best impression of Nino.

“I feel like we should be insulted that Nino only feeds us the food he thinks is going to waste,” Sean observed, accepting one of the plates.

“If you want to complain about free food, dawg, be my guest, but I am just going to be grateful for it, and our smokin’ waitress bringin it out to us,” Derek winked at you as he spoke, taking the other plate, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know, the rest of us have to go to the kitchen if we want to eat, but you lucky ducks,” you shook your fist playfully and rolled your eyes, “get waited on.”

“And we appreciate it, Y/N,” Sean said earnestly. “You know we do.”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll start expecting a tip for this.”

Derek smirked, despite the pasta shoveled into his mouth, and looked like he was about to say something.

“Don’t,” Sean warned him, looking weary.

“If whatever you’re about to say is an innuendo, it dies or you do,” you scolded.

Derek stuck out his lower lip and pouted.

“Nino also said to tell you to prepare for a rush in about fifteen, and then you can clock out early. One of the sous chefs got sick everywhere so we have to shut down the kitchen. Your plates were among the last to make it out alive.”

“Has he got the flu or something?” Sean asked, casting a suspicious eye at his dinner anyway.

You rolled your eyes. “No. But did you hear that whiskey’s a clear liquor now? Nino’s not impressed by the magic trick.”

Derek laughed. “How stupid can you get? Call Riley up, dawg. Let’s do something.”

“He has a point,” you said, shrugging. “As much as it pains me to say.”

“Like what?” Sean asked skeptically.

“We’re young and gorgeous, well most of us are,” you smirked and made a so-so gesture at Derek, “and it’s a Friday night in Portland. I’m sure we can find something to do.”

You glanced down at your outfit. “When you call Riley, see if she’s got something less...uniform-y I can borrow?”

“When I said not my uniform, I expected to still be wearing clothes…” you hissed, holding up the dress Riley had brought you skeptically. It was so short and so low cut, you weren’t sure it wasn’t split completely down the middle.

“It’ll look great on you, Y/N, trust me,” she implored, ushering you toward one of the stalls to change. “And I guarantee a certain someone won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you grumbled, cheeks flushing hotly, giving in to her persuasion.

A few minutes later, the pair of you were walking back out of the restaurant, and you shivered as the evening air hit your exposed skin.

“Well, shall we get going?” you asked, catching Derek and Sean’s attention.

Derek’s jaw dropped as he turned and caught sight of you, in a way that would have been comedic if it had been directed at anyone else.

“You’re staring,” Sean hissed through clenched teeth after a moment of awkward silence.

“Uh, yeah I am. Daaamn,” Derek muttered, looking you up and down appreciatively and letting out a low whistle.

You almost turned on the spot and fled, maybe back inside to change or maybe across the country to assume a new identity you weren’t quite sure, but Riley’s hand on your back stopped you.

“This is a...different look, for both of you,” Sean observed, choosing his words very carefully. “It’s good,” he leaned in toward Riley with a smirk, “really good.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically as the two of them met in a kiss, thankfully only brief, before cuddling into each other as all four of you started walking. You fell into easy step with Derek behind your cousin and his girlfriend.

“They’re insufferably cute together,” you muttered, making him laugh.

“D’ya think maybe you’re jealous?” he teased.

“Of Sean?” you pretended to think it over before shrugging. “Not really. I mean Riley’s pretty but she’s not really my type.”

“I meant cus they’ve got someone. Ya know, to be cute and shit with.”

“Is that something couples do when they’ve been together a long time? They shit together?” You fought to keep a straight face long enough to deliver your question.

His face screwed up with disgust even as he laughed. “That’s not what I meant! You know it’s not!”

“Do I? You seem to think you know a lot about what I know.”

“Alright, I get it. I know when my question’s bein dodged. I can take a hint.”

“Not all of them,” you muttered under your breath, before flashing him a smile and changing the topic for the rest of the walk.

“A gorgeous creature like you shouldn’t languish by the bar,” the goateed hipster said, laying on the alleged charm heavy, and you fought a roll of your eyes. “You should be dancing.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the right partner,” you shot back, leaning away from him as he leaned in, closer than he needed to be to be heard.

“So do you want to dance?”

“Nope. I’m still waiting.” You collected the drink that had just been served to you, waiting to see if he was clueless.

“What?” he frowned in confusion.

“I’m not interested in you,” you whispered dramatically, as if you were revealing some great secret to him.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, moving on down the bar to the next girl.

Derek watched the exchange from the booth, glowering and trying not to grip his beer too tight. Sean shook his head, leaning over to his friend.

“He’s not her type,” your cousin said, making his best friend frown. “Don’t be stupid tonight, Derek.”

It was the closest Sean had come to giving his friend advice when it came to you, and the most reassuring thing he could have done. It wasn’t quite approval, but it was enough to tell Derek that pursuing the girl he wanted wasn’t going to cost him their friendship.

When you returned to the table, Derek impulsively caught your wrist lightly as you set your drink down.

“Dance?” he asked, tilting his head.

You were grateful for the low lights around you so he couldn’t see your facial expression, and you couldn’t see Sean and Riley’s.

“I’d love to,” you smiled, biting your lip.

“Perfect,” he breathed, sliding out and leading you out onto the floor.

As soon as you found a spot in the crowd, it was like a switch flipped. There was no awkwardness, no questions or doubts, just the two of you, moving together. If someone had asked you about it later, you would say it was the alcohol that made you drape your arms around his neck loosely, made you press close as his hands circled your waist. His hips shimmied and swayed, clearly not his first rodeo, and you couldn't help tracing the patterns they drew in the air as you tried your best to keep up.

A hideously pop-y song started and you rolled your eyes, inclined normally to abandon the dance floor until something else came on. And then you realized that Derek was singing along, his voice rumbling through you where your chests touched. His eyes bore down into yours, like every lyric was meant for you, and somehow they immediately became your favorite.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you mused, as you both paused later to get another drink and catch your breath, leaning close together on the bar.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You sing, you clearly know how to dance based on those moves. You managed to make me...not hate that song. Plus you’ve got that whole sweet, funny, charming thing…you’re kind of the whole, perfect package...” you grumbled sulkily.

“I don’t know how to juggle?” he offered, smiling.

You snapped your fingers. “Well damn. That’s a dealbreaker. Guess you don’t have a shot after all.”

Just then your drink arrived and you accepted it gratefully, marvelling at the bartender’s perfect timing for the second time that evening. Holding eye contact with Derek, you smirked slightly, sipping your cocktail through the straw, and then turned to head back over to Sean and Riley.

“Wait, what’d you just say?” he said, chasing after you despite having not gotten his own drink yet.

“I think you heard me.

“So if I knew how to juggle…”

“Maybe I might let you do more than make up lame excuses to hold my hand,” you leaned to purr the words in his ear, pausing long enough that if he just turned his head your lips would collide.

But he didn't turn. He froze, considering the implication of your statement, watching your retreating back (wonderfully sexily bare in that dress). Then he went back to the bar and pulled out his phone while he waited for his beer, typing into the search bar ‘easy juggling tutorials.’

-------

“I’m a moron,” you moaned, throwing your arm across your face. “I’m a failure.”

You let your memo slip from the other hand and flutter to the floor beside Derek. He picked it up, trying to ignore the scant inches between your faces as you hung off the side of your bed dramatically.

“Girl, this says you got a C. That’s not failing,” he pointed out, eyes skimming the myriad of red ink marks.

“Do you know what a C means in law school, Derek? It means, ‘your work is shit, and we gave you pity points to keep you from dragging the class average down.’” You sighed. “I should just drop out. I could probably become a fishmonger. I don't know what they do but it's probably not write research memos.”

“I got you a job in the feesh factory.” he said in an exaggerated (and terrible) Russian accent.

You lowered your arm to peer incredulously at him.

“It was the first thing that came to mind, thought it would cut the tension,” he said with a shrug.

“Did you just...you’re trying to cheer me up by quoting a Disney movie at me. In my time of crisis?”

“Technically Anastasia’s not owned by The Mouse.”

“You’re adorable.” You drawled.

Color crept over him, staining the tips of his ears pink. You studied him carefully, and eventually he squirmed under the scrutiny.

“It was my sister’s favorite movie, so we watched it a lot. Stop judging.”

“Not judging. Yet. You have some knowledge, apparently, but the real test: The Genie or Batty?”

“That’s a joke right?”

You rolled over onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands as you waited for an answer.

“Ferngully was the real shit. I could probably still do the rap if I tried.”

“Okay.” You looked at him expectantly and he frowned.

“What?”

“Go on then. Sing it.” You gestured toward the center of the room with one hand, like it was a stage you were directing it toward.

“Do you have the music? I can’t sing without accompaniment.”

“Who do you take me for?” you asked, smiling and pulling up the karaoke track version on your phone.

A minute later, you paused it, cutting him short with a click of your tongue.

“That’s not how it goes,” you said certainly.

“Yes it is,” he argued.

“No. The next lyric is ‘vivisectified and fed pesticides.’ You skipped part of it.”

“It is not! Just cus your big lawyer brain has some weird thing where you have to add fancy words to understand somethin…”

“How dare you!” you gasped, scandalized.

You continued to argue back and forth and around in circles for several minutes, neither of you willing to stand down. At some point, you had pushed yourself up, kneeling on the bed to tower over his still sitting form on the floor. Then he stood up, making him the taller one again. Your faces were so close you could practically feel each other’s breath as you devolved into “Did not!” “Did too!”

Suddenly, you gave into nearly omnipresent impulse, grabbing him by the edges of his half-zipped hoodie and dragging him closer, closing the distance between you. You didn’t give yourself even a second to think, or overthink, and crashed your lips together. He made a muffled, confused noise, before meeting your fervor, reaching up to cradle the back of your neck in his hand and holding you close.

“Are you going to admit I’m right?” you muttered teasingly when you broke apart a moment later.

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes fluttering open and clearly not fully processing what you had even said.

“Good,” you answered, kissing him again before he could reconsider.

His free arm wrapped around your lower back, and you slid yours up across his shoulders lazily. As your kiss was deepening, you felt the world tilting, the pair of you falling backwards onto the bed. You gasped, mouth opening and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Like everything else between you, it became a battle, as you pushed back and twined together. One of your legs hooked around his. His hand on your back began to explore, sliding out from under you to toy at the hem of your shirt.

You drew back, head pressing into the pillow to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, parted lips kiss-swollen and red. His entire expression burned with desire that you were pretty sure was reflected back on your own face.

“Fuck it,” you breathed, reaching down to tug the garment over your head.

“Shit…” he whined, looking down at your bare chest, swallowing nervously.

“You don’t have to just look,” you offered, suddenly nervous at being so vulnerable beneath him.

“But I wanna look, just for a sec. You're...I've never seen someone so beautiful.”

“You're just saying that cus I got my tits out.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No I'm not.”

You felt your face heating and fought the urge to cover yourself back up. He bent to kiss you again hungrily, the hand at your neck fluttering downward, tracing the slope of your neck and curve of your collarbone before sliding over your breast. He squeezed softly, as if testing the waters and you bit back a moan, and then he began to massage and knead it.

He drew back again, leaving you panting as he tossed aside his jacket and shirt, kicking off his shoes and shifting so you were both more comfortably centered on the bed.

“Derek,” you whined impatiently when you caught him staring again.

He looked down at you, surprised by the sound, and you cocked an eyebrow. He answered with a smirk and then his face disappeared between the mounds of your chest, kissing a trail along your sternum, circling under first one and then the other. He was teasing you, and it felt like bliss.

It wasn’t long before he had you writhing beneath him, gasping out his name and the occasional explicative in time with each pass of his lips over your nipples, sucking and nipping at them at seemingly random. Your head felt fuzzy and you could feel the gathering fire at your core.

You toyed with the waistband of his boxers, thinking about how little now separated the two of you, how maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to remove those barriers. After all. You knew Derek. You were attracted to Derek. You trusted Derek to take good care of you, to do what you wanted and only that. And you wanted him to do so much.

Before you could reach a decision, your phone started going off, humming distractingly across the floorboards where it had fallen.

He sighed as you groped blindly around for it, not wanting to move out from under him for fear that it would break whatever spell you were in.

“I’ll just turn that off and…” you promised, sheepish smile morphing to an expression of panic when you saw that it was Riley calling.

“Fuck! It’s Thursday! I was supposed to meet her for coffee twenty minutes ago,” you groaned.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to play hooky, am I?” he asked, defeated.

“I’m sorry…” you grimaced.

“Rain check then?”

“I don’t think it works like that. But...maybe,” you answered, tone making it clear that maybe didn’t mean maybe.

He laughed, rolling off of you and sitting up to find his clothes.

“Vivesectified,” you whispered in his ear, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek at the doorstep, bouncing away down the steps before he could retaliate.

#am I witty? I don't know but I try #technically could have been 3 separate things #but I smashed them all together for you #since there are reoccurring themes and also I could slow burn this for 100 years or I can move onward #I also could have just kept one and relegated the others to the scrap heap but they've got cute bits #I like cute bits #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x reader #Bad Samaritan fic

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Morning of Bliss (Derek x Reader)

A/N: Because time jumps are my friend, and I wanted to write cute/fluffy and smutty. Word Count: 1390 Rating: E - oral (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, swearing, post Bad Samaritan (but no references to it)

You yawned, stretching luxuriously and enjoying the feel of the warm sun on your face without opening your eyes. The bed under you felt like a cloud, and the arms around you were heaven embodied. Everything was perfect, and if you opened your eyes, you’d have to admit you were awake and that meant getting up and ruining the moment.

Instead, you snuggled back down with a contented sigh. You felt, as much as heard, your husband chuckle against the back of your neck.

“Good morning, baby girl,” he mumbled and you felt him shift away.

You whined, reaching blindly behind you for him, fingers colliding with his solid chest as he leaned over you.

“Or should I say Mrs. Sandoval?” he bent to press a gentle kiss to the slope of your shoulder and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You imagined that it matched the one on your face as you rolled the title, the name, around in your mind. ‘Y/N Sandoval’ certainly had a ring to it.

The metal band on his hand was warm and added an odd, but not unpleasant, sensation to him skimming down along the curve of your ass, hip, and thigh. You shivered in expectant delight but continued to feign slumber.

Derek sighed dramatically, ruffling your hair with the air that escaped him. “Really? You’re just gonna go back to sleep and waste our first day in paradise?”

“Paradise is where you are,” you mumbled, an almost petulant and argumentative undertone to your words.

You were trying to bask in the comfort of the bed and the warmth of the sun and the feel of his skin against yours, and he wanted to get up? ‘Unacceptable,’ you thought.

Planting your heel firmly against the mattress, you rolled onto your back so that he was truly over you, skimming his inner thigh with your knee as you shifted, smirking at his sharp intake of breath.

“Hi,” you said, finally cracking an eye to look up at him.

“Oh really? You gonna play like that?” There was a definite smirk on his face now as he trailed kisses across your stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Paradise is where I am?” He paused to nip teasingly at your hips before settling just far enough from where you wanted him to make you whine. “So does that make Paradise between your thighs?”

He didn’t give you time to respond, caring less about your answer and more about toying with you, before his mouth was on your clit, tongue laving circles over the sensitive nub. You cried out, bucking sharply against the hand splayed across your abdomen. He hummed against your core, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body.

“Yes,” you gasped out, fingers fisting in the pillow behind you. “Derek, please…”

“Mm, definitely paradise.”

His tongue swept lower, dancing between your folds, teasing, before sliding inside of you. It was pure, incredible torture as he sucked and probed, moving from vagina to clit and back again with no discernible patter, working you up into a crescendo until you shattered, muscles spasming and legs wrapping around his back. Gradually you relaxed and he pulled away, crawling up the mattress to hover over you again, smiling as he watched you pant beneath him.

“You okay, baby girl?” his voice was soft and reverent and just slightly scratchy, as his eyes combed your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Never better,” you purred breathlessly, reaching up for him and pulling him into a kiss.

You moaned as his skin pressed against yours and you tasted yourself on his lips. Your limbs tangled together, tongues twining and twirling, a blissful dance together in the morning sun.

“But I think,” you pulled back and gave him a sultry smile. “I should return the favor, don’t you?”

With a laugh, you hooked one knee around his hip and threw your weight into it to flip him over. He yelped in surprise as you pinned him down, kissing him again hungrily, greedily. He tried to chase you as you drew away, lips trailing softly across his jaw. Rolling your eyes, you planted your hands on his shoulders, lightly pinning him down as you continued to kiss and nip your way across his skin.

You took a few minutes to trace the raised scar along his collar bone with your tongue, knowing from experience that the skin was extra sensitive and loving the feeling of him shuddering beneath you, before continuing your journey downward.

He inhaled sharply as your breath ghosted over him and a whine slipped out as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. One hand circled the base while you laced the fingers of the other through his hand, squeezing to get his attention. You looked up at him, holding eye contact as you slowly sank further down, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, obviously straining against the instinct to buck upward into you.

You moaned, a fresh wave of arousal washing over you at how easily you could make him come undone. His head dropped onto the pillows as you pulled back until only the tip was in your mouth and swirled your tongue around him. You set an uneven pattern, teasing him the same way he had done to you, bobbing up and down slowly and making generous use of your tongue only to suddenly increase your pace and hollow your cheeks, sucking with force, and then back again. All too soon, he was writhing beneath you, taste salty with precum, and your name falling from his lips like a desperate, chanted prayer.

He tugged at your joined hands.

“Please, baby girl,” he gasped and groaned. “I’m not gonna hang on. I need your tight little pussy.”

You drew away, mouth leaving him with a pop, delicately wiping away the thin line of spit connecting you with your fingers. You let him guide you back into another kiss, arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close against his chest.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he murmured.

“I think my ‘I do’ yesterday means it goes without saying, but I love you too, Derek,” you answered in the same enraptured tone.

He rolled his hips a few times, coating himself with your slick before reaching between you to position and slowly press up into you. You pressed your hips down to meet him, moaning contentedly as you took all of him, filling you completely.

Your lips met as you both began to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm together. Every brush of your bodies together sent sparks radiating outward through you, and from the sounds and shudders he made, you could only guess that Derek felt the same. He held you tightly, every touch tender and passionate, impossibly close until you didn’t know or care where one of you stopped and the other began.

Your fingers skimmed his temple and you pressed your forehead to his, peppering him with little kisses.

“Derek,” you cooed between movements, “My Derek. My husband. I love you.”

His hands slid down along your sides, their light calluses raising goosebumps wherever he touched. Suddenly he cupped your breast, tweaking the nipple and making you yelp. He smirked, repeating the action on the other side.

“Baby girl you sound so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “You’re so beautiful.”

You were closer to your second peak than you thought, crying out as your body fluttered around him. His pace picked up urgently, driving ever closer to the edge until you both crashed over it together. Your desperate moans mingled with his breathless swears.

Panting you collapsed beside him, rolling until you were both staring at the ceiling.

“Now can we stay in bed?” you asked, and Derek laughed, warming you even more than the sunshine.

“We could...or we could try out that big jacuzzi bathtub?”

You turned your head to the side to find him looking back at you, eyebrows raised suggestively and a dopey grin splashed across his face. You captured his face between his hands and kissed him, laughing into it.

“I think I can be persuaded…” you answered, smirking. “If you carry me there. I don’t think I can move.”

#it's my self-indulgent fantasy world and I'm gonna write lazy morning honeymoon smut if I want to #Idiot (Affectionate)#Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #smut

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY

When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment

Masterlist

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs.

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up.

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust.

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.”

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help.

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed.

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers.

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice.

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork.

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip.

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them.

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.”

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

“I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that.

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.”

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed.

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along.

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta.

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense?

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit.

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back.

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.

#canon divergent au #look we all love Sean but I am very fond of Derek #and he did not deserve what happened #so I'm gonna fix it #eventually #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Untitled because it’s 4am (Derek x Reader)

A/N: This was going to get finished over the weekend but, here we are. Takes place probably some time post movie. I dunno man. Exact timing probably doesn’t matter. Word Count: 892 Rating: E - nipple play, fingering, penetration, language

“Derek,” you sighed, arching into his touch as it skimmed reverently over your sides.

You watched, somewhat mesmerized by the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the sound of you making him swallow thickly.

“Fuck, girl.”

“I certainly hope that’s what we’re about to do,” you smirked, stretching luxuriously.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His fingers trailed over your rib cage, following the slope upward toward your chest.

You moaned as he brushed over your nipples, pressing up into him as he cupped your breast and squeezed gently—nearly everything he did with you was gentle and it drove you mad, at the moment in the best way.

“I’m havin a hard time believin this is real, you know,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, almost ashamed of the admission. “Maybe I’m dreamin.”

He bent his head to replace his fingers with lips, rolling one pert, oversensitive nipple under his tongue. You couldn’t help the sharp yelp that escaped your lips and made him smile. Eager to make you repeat the noise, or any other, he focused his attention there, nipping and sucking at the hardened bud while he massaged the other side with his hand.

You writhed and twisted beneath him, mind already hazy, unsure whether you wanted the teasing attention to stop or to carry on forever. You were so focused on his mouth and on the buzzing beneath your too-hot skin that you didn’t notice what his free hand was doing until you felt him ease it between you, slipping one finger inside you deftly. The pad of his thumb swept across your clit and you keened, bucking up against him, the sudden dual sensations making your core clench, already on the edge.

“Fuck, Derek, please,” you gasped, whining. “I need more. I’m so close.”

He groaned against your skin, loving the way you cried for him, and slid a second finger inside.

“Shit, if I am dreamin, I don’t wanna wake up,” he muttered.

His thumb continued to trace patterns as he pumped in and out.

Feeling yourself about to peak, you reached blindly, catching his face between your hands and drawing his lips back to yours. You collided together, sloppy and passionate as your orgasm washed over you and he swallowed down your scream.

Panting and flushed, you clung to him as he continued his ministrations through your high.

“You look so hot when you cum for me baby,” he said, grinning, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Fuck,” you breathed, unable to articulate more. “Derek…”

“You want more baby? Want this dick inside you?”

You felt your muscles jump at just the thought.

“God yes. Fuck me, please,” you moaned, pressing against the erection you could feel straining his boxers.

He kissed you hungrily, threading one hand into your hair, lifting your head off the bed slightly and pulling you close. His other hand fumbled to remove the article of clothing still in the way, so you reached down to help. Freed from them, you took him in your hand, stroking teasingly as you guided him to your entrance. He moaned as he slowly sheathed himself inside you and your already stimulated muscles fluttered around him.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips as he bottomed out, stilling to let you adjust to the feeling of fullness.

Your arms snaked around his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible.

“So fucking much,” you answered.

He rolled his hips experimentally and you arched at the sensation.

“Yesss,” you hissed. “Move like that, please.”

You rocked together, as he pulled nearly all the way out and snapped back in, movements steady and sure, but never any faster. The slow drag of skin on skin, feeling him against every part of you, including the ones that made you see stars, had your second orgasm sneaking up in no time, and you moaned as you came without warning.

Your muscles contracted, squeezing around him, and drew a breathy noise from him. You tugged him down into another kiss, tongues dancing together as his thrusts became uneven, picking up pace just a little as he chased his own end. Your name was a whispered prayer as he crested his own peak and stilled, painting your walls.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as his arms gave way and he dropped heavily on top of you. He buried his face between your boobs with a contented hum, not seeming to care about the sheen of sweat covering the pair of you, or anything at all really.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbled. “And warm. And amazing. I love you, Y/N.”

You chuckled, shoving him lightly so that he would move, shifting so that you were both in a more comfortable position, though his head was still in your chest.

“I love you too, Derek. I love you so much.”

“I could listen to you say that forever.”

He yawned sleepily. You smiled softly and traced patterns on his shoulder. You knew you should get up, clean up. But he was so cute, and you were both comfortable. You’d just rest for a little while and then you would, it wouldn’t make that much difference.

“I love you,” you murmured again, not sure if he was even still awake to hear you. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

#look it's self indulgent and sweet #and it's my birthday so it's totally allowed #who cares that I haven't even planned out their first kiss or anything about them actually getting together yet #not me #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #smut #totally unedited

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER FIVE: US

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x (fem)Reader Word Count: 2868 Rating: T - canon-typical language, reference to Stephen King A/N: The adorable, fluffy early part of a relationship is hard to write, y’all. Especially first dates.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

“So...you and Derek…” Riley began after you had both placed your orders and found a table.

“What? What about Derek and me? There isn’t a ‘me and Derek,’” you said in a rush. Except that there was, now, and you weren’t sure why you were denying it.

“That’s my point! You’d be good together.”

“Would we?” you asked skeptically.

A voice nagged at the back of your mind, lecturing you about how you knew that already, how of course you were good together, you were more than good, you were perfect foils. You liked bickering and bantering with him, and watching scifi together, and doing terrible impressions of people you both knew, and just talking and being near him. You weren't sure what had happened earlier, but you knew you wanted it to happen again. And that you wanted...to curl up on your couch with your knees tucked up under you and your head on his chest while his arm wrapped around you and held you close, or sit across from him at a restaurant and steal his fries, or make pancakes with him on a Sunday morning in your pajamas (never mind that you'd have to learn how first, for Derek you'd figure it out). You were sure you wanted all of those cute, romantic companionship things, with Derek. So why were you still pretending otherwise?

“Sure. He’s not my type, and he can be a little annoying sometimes, but he makes it work, in his own way.”

Your conversation was momentarily interrupted by your drinks and snacks being brought over. It was just enough time for you to come to a decision.

“You’re really selling him,” you joked, hiding a smile behind your scone. “I’m so convinced.”

“Come on, Y/N. Give him a chance. He might surprise you.”

“Riley, listen. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, setting me up with Derek, but you are wasting your breath...”

“Why? Give me one good reason not to go out to dinner with him.”

“He hasn’t asked me to?” you squinted your eyes and tilted your head in question.

She sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Hypothetically though, if he did ask, and assuming you both had the night off, and—”

“Riley, can you slow down for a second?” you couldn’t help but laugh as you cut off what was likely to be quite the spiel. After all, she was a business major, and they loved their hypotheticals almost as much as lawyers.

She stopped, or at least paused, and picked up her coffee cup, looking at you expectantly.

“You’re wasting your breath not because my answer would be no, but because...well..he and I sort of...already...hooked up? About,” you checked the clock on your phone, “an hour ago.”

She choked, only just avoiding spraying her latte over you. “What?!”

“Well I mean, not hooked up, hooked up. But there was a lot of kissing, and other stuff. And not a lot of clothes. It probably maybe might have actually ended up as hooked up, hooked up if you hadn’t called,” you grimaced as you tried to explain. “But you cannot tell Sean any of this.”

“Why not?”

You chewed on your lip. “Because it just happened. And I don’t know if it was a one-off, heat-of-the-moment thing. So I don’t want him to know anything until there’s something worth knowing. If there’s something worth telling, he’ll probably end up one of the first to know anyway.”

“Okay, I might let you have that,” she smirked, leaning in. “So tell me more: What’s ‘other stuff’? How few clothes are we talking? How’d it happen? Was it good?”

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as you laughed awkwardly and focused your attention on your drink as a distraction.

“You’re never gonna believe this, dawg,” Derek said, blowing a puff of smoke up into the air. “So I was over at Y/N’s, and we were hangin out, and we started arguing, right?”

“Because that comes as a shock to anyone,” Sean answered, rolling his eyes and taking a long drag before passing the joint back.

“No, no, no, man. That’s not the surprising thing. We’re arguing and all up in each other’s face and then, out of nowhere, she kisses me!” Derek’s grin was wide and a little bit awed as he spoke, forgetting to take another hit.

There was genuine shock on Sean’s face and he seemed at a loss for words, blinking owlishly at his best friend.

“So anyway, there I am, there we are because the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen - no offense to Riley man - is kissing me, so obviously I kissed her back. She didn't taste like I thought she would, apples or somethin, like she always smells, but I guess that's her hair or something, it was…” Derek trailed off for a second, trying to think of exactly how he wanted to describe the taste of kissing her, and then he snapped his fingers, carrying on, “candy canes. Those ones with the extra purple stripe that kinda taste like berries.”

He ignored Sean saying his name, trying to capture his attention and carried on.

“Then, it's not just kissing. Cus she's laying back onto the bed and I'm following and now I'm on top of her and she takes her shirt off. No bra underneath so I've got the perfect view of her sweet, perky—”

“Stop!” Sean yelled, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage. “Fucking hell Derek, that's my cousin. Practically my little sister for Christ's sake.”

“What?” Derek frowned, confused for a moment when it finally dawned on him. “Oh shit, man, I'm sorry. I thought since you were cool with me taking a shot...I wasn't thinkin about…”

“It's fine. I only need to bleach out half my brain. I'm happy for you and Y/N, I really am, it's about time frankly, but I don't want to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah no problem man.”

A silence hung over them as they finished their smoke, before suddenly Derek was speaking again.

“I looked up the song while I drove here, and it turns out, she was right. I had nothin to even argue with her about.” He chuckled, the grin creeping across his face again. “I’m glad I did though.”

Several weeks went by and it seemed like things were going back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You got busy with school and finals, seeing Derek a lot less often and for shorter blocks, and the timing never seemed right to talk.

One night, you were both hanging out with Sean, trying to cheer him up over the fact that Riley had cancelled on him because of some big presentation for school. While your cousin was out of the room meeting the pizza guy, an odd silence descended over you both for a moment, before Derek turned to face you on the couch.

“What are we?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you answered, frowning in confusion and mirroring his position.

“We have one killer makeout, then never talk about it. I flirt, I think you’re flirtin back but it’s hard to tell. You call me sweet one second and stupid the next. I just don’t get it, Y/N, and it’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I like you, Derek. A lot. Like, to the point it kinda scares me if I’m being honest, a lot,” you shrugged, holding your shoulders at your ears. “But...I don’t know. Is this a good idea?”

“This? You mean...us?” He frowned in confusion.

“Is there an us already?” you sighed, voice trembling. “Yeah, I guess I mean, the possibility of an us at least.”

He reached over, taking one of your hands in his. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but I’ll be honest, girl, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You opened your mouth to make a snarky comment in response and he shook his head, laughing lightly.

“I mean the real you, not just kissin you or seeing your tiddies, although those were nice.”

You shot him a glare, reaching across the gap between you to slap his shoulder in annoyance. He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You’re so smart, way too smart for me. And fiesty, and hilarious, and sweet. I don’t know, you’re you. And I really like everything about you, all the little things even that make me feel like I got steam comin outta my ears like the Looney Tunes.”

“I…”

“Let me take you out to dinner, or breakfast, or lunch, whenever you’re free. A date though. One date and we can talk about it, whatever’s got you feeling unsure. Please?”

He was looking at you so earnestly that you couldn’t resist saying yes, suggesting lunch on Sunday just as Sean returned. He looked between you with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. You rolled your eyes, stealing the food from him, and Derek pressed play on the movie as Sean settled back into the middle seat.

You paced anxiously up and down the length of your living room, biting on a thumb nail. You paused, debating changing your outfit for the third time. Derek had said he wanted to do the whole package for a date, so he was going to pick you up at your apartment, and drive downtown. Then you’d park and walk together to lunch. It was cute. But it left you with too much time to think while you waited for the text that said he was downstairs.

It was just Derek. Derek who’d been your friend for months now, who could make you laugh no matter what, and who looked at you like you hung the moon when he thought you didn’t notice, and who made your stomach flip. Derek who you’d been fully ready and willing to sleep with a few weeks ago. But this felt different. It was a real date. It was a tipping point, maybe the start of something, or the end.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump.

‘Hey, I’m here. Want me to come up?’ you read.

If he came upstairs, you could probably convince him to forget the date and the questions and the everything else to pick up where you’d left off the last time he’d been to your place. The thought was tempting. But it was only delaying the inevitable.

‘I’ll be down in a sec,’ you fired back instead, gathering up your keys and purse and hurrying down to meet him.

He was standing on your front step when you got downstairs, greeting you with a surprising hug, which you were happy to return, before you both stepped back and took each other in.

“Damn,” he said with a low whistle. “You look…damn.”

You felt your cheeks flush hotly. Your outfit wasn’t something particularly fancy, but you had tried to dress nicely for him, and to take advantage of the warm spring weather.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, smiling broadly at him (code for he looked absolutely jaw-droppingly sexy in his own choice of dressy-casual).

He winked at you and then swept an arm out dramatically. “Your chariot awaits. Shall we?”

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir,” you affected a posh accent and haughty expression before giggling and practically skipping down the stairs.

The drive, as usual, turned into an impromptu concert (mostly Bon Jovi today) and for the walk to the restaurant and all of lunch, conversation flowed easily. It was comfortable enough that you almost forgot that you had hesitated to agree.

“I hate to kill the mood,” he said after most of your meal was done. “But part of today was supposed be to figuring out us.”

You sighed. There was the other shoe, finally dropping.

“You’re right, it was.”

“So why do you think this is a bad idea?” he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Straight to the point,” you observed. “I'm surprised.”

He shrugged. “Just wanna get it done. Why dance around?”

“I don’t know. We’re friends, and I like how things are. And you and Sean are friends and if we were to try this...dating or whatever thing, and it didn’t work out I don’t want to lose us or ruin your friendship or,” you sighed. “It just seems like a lot to risk.”

“Sean and I are way too close to let a girl come between us, even if that girl is you.” He smirked teasingly at you.

“Well that makes me feel a little better,” you rolled your eyes, but there was a sincerity to your words that he definitely picked up on. “What if you’re wrong, and we start dating, and it makes things awkward between you and Sean? What if it doesn’t but we break up and then Sean has to pick between his cousin and his best friend? What if we start dating and it doesn’t work out and we lose each other? Because you’re one my best friends, Derek, and I can’t even imagine what life would actually be like without you in it, but it’s a scary thought. What if—”

He reached across the table to rest his hand on top of the fingers you were drumming anxiously on the table.

“Forget what ifs for a second.”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Just work with me. No thinking about the future. If just right now mattered, how would you feel? What would you do?”

“I don’t know. I’d feel...happy? I’d tell you that I’m having a really good time hanging out with you again, and I missed it when I got busy with finals. I’d tell you that color looks really good on you. And that you have chocolate from your pancakes on your lip, but...I think you should leave it there and let me get it…” you were blushing furiously, cheeks practically on fire, and you fought the urge to look down at the table.

He laughed, the sound filling your chest with warmth and effervescence. With a wink, he shifted his chair around the table until his knee bumped into yours.

“Go on then,” he murmured, angling even closer. “Live in just this moment.”

You breath caught in your throat, heart racing.

“Or should I do it for you?”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and his eyes traced its path.

“Derek…” your voice was barely above a breath.

And then you were both leaning in, and his hand was braced on the back of your chair, and yours was on the back of his neck. Your lips were on his and his were on yours, and for a second, time and his breath and your heart all stopped. You slid your tongue across his lip and then sucked on it lightly, removing the chocolate stain as promised and making him groan softly. His hand left the chair to curl around your back, trying to angle you closer without pulling you off your chair.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, shattering the moment and making you leap apart. The freckle-faced young waiter stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“You...uh...I was asked to come over and tell you that…” he stammered, blushing furiously.

“We’re disturbing the other customers and should keep the PDA for later?” you asked sheepishly, not unfamiliar with the feeling of having to deliver such messages to couples on dates.

He nodded rapidly before turning tail and practically fleeing back to the kitchens. You couldn’t help giggling, especially when you saw the pouting look on Derek’s face. After a moment, he grinned and joined in with your laughter, until you earned another stern look from some of the older folks in the little restaurant around you.

“Maybe we should go?” you suggested, struggling to contain yourself. “I don’t think they like us much.”

“Probably,” he answered, quickly waving down someone to bring your check.

As you walked out together, you impulsively stepped closer. You were just passing through the door and into the afternoon sunshine when you laid your head on Derek’s shoulder, making him stiffen for a moment, before he shifted his stance to make it more comfortable for the both of you, looping an arm around your waist.

“So,” he said as you wandered like that down the sidewalk in no particular direction.

“Hm?”

“What’s this mean then?”

“It means that I like you, a lot. And I like this...us...thing. And I’m still scared, but I want to give it a shot?”

“Okay.” You could practically hear the grin in his voice as his arm tightened to pull you closer.

“And if you ever break my heart, I’ll break your foot.”

“Why my foot?” he laughed.

“Because it’s easy-ish. And it makes it harder for you to leave.”

“Ah, I see. Going a little Annie Wilkes on me?”

“You’ve seen Misery?”

“No. But I liked the book.”

You tilted your head to look more fully at him, gaping.

“What? Am I not allowed to be a Stephen King fan?”

“You never cease to surprise me, Derek Sandoval.”

#am I glossing over too much of the relationship building?#am I packing too many events into a single chapter?#I worry about these things #anyway...more fluff #more cuteness #before the angst that is a'coming #Derek Sandoval x Reader #Bad Samaritan fic #queued for once because reasonably no one is awake at this hour

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