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1u11ablues · 2 years ago

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Think With Your Heart, Feel With Your Brain(StuckyxOC)

Summary: Lilith packs for her stay.

WC: 1.8k+

Warning: Language. Just a lil' hint of M/M suggestive content(which will be explored in further chapters)

Chapter 3: Permission

As soon as she was done with her last slot of the week, she went home immediately to pack her stuff for her stay at the facility. Steve informed that someone will be there to assist her, but she didn't expect that person to arrive sooner than she thought. She barely had the time to locate her luggage before someone rang the bell. Bucky stood outside, hands in the pocket of his leather jacket, leaning on her door frame with a smirk on his face.

"Bucky? I thought Steve meant a staff member was coming or something." She stated, confused. Still, she invited him in and told him to make himself comfortable while she continued packing.

"I am a staff member. Plus, I volunteered. Do you need a hand with something?" He asks as he trailed her from the front door to her room before stopping just outside the bedroom doorway.

Without looking at him, she answered, "No, I don't have that much to pack. I pretty much wear the same thing everyday so it's just grab and go."

In her periphery, Bucky leans over her door frame to look into her room, and she had the sense that he was trying to get a read on her. It was unsettling.

"Bucky…." she said, "I hate it when people watch over my shoulders like that. Please sit. Ask me your questions instead of assuming things."Because, good God, have people been doing that a lot. Always reading between her words, treating conversations like social warfare.

"Sorry, doll, just trying to see if your room could tell me more about you. You have a lot of interests." He muttered as he roamed her room. She had a bookshelf full of books on one side of the room, though books weren't the only thing she had on it. Random trinkets of a variety of interests she had fallen into were carefully arranged in some places; crochet animals, sketchbooks, art supplies and a lot of zombie-themed items.

'Yeah, I guess I do. I can't really help what my brain likes." She replied, zipping up her luggage and taking out a smaller carry on to bring some books for her stay. Maybe a sketchbook and some supplies, too. She doesn't know how long she'd be staying.

"Steve likes to draw as well. Maybe you guys can bond over that." Her head tilted at the surprising tidbit about Steve. Had she known that earlier, her views of him would probably be softer than it was. She does tend to make better connections with people who share her interest.

"That's cool," she acknowledged, "and what do you like?" It is common courtesy to ask what their interests are after she told them hers,right? She read that somewhere before.

"Well, it's nothing like what you and Steve do, not the same level of artsy I guess, but I do like to take pictures once in a while."

"Oh, photography? It suits you. What do you normally shoot?" She loves photography too, not much in taking them, but they provided her with good references.

"Just nature. Buildings. Things I find pretty." He told her, voice quieter than normal, like he was trying to be humble. Maybe he is being humble. She felt it kind of endearing, actually. Passionate people are attractive to her. Almost all of her friends are people who had an obsession over very specific subjects, like role-playing and avians.

"No people?" She asked, eager to know more about him.

His eyes went wide.

"Uh, on special occasions." He replied.

"I have taken several photos of Steve, but they were—how do I say it—unsavoury."

For several minutes, her hands still as she tried to parse what he was trying to say. When she realised, he probably meant nude pictures, her eyes wide, mouth forming an 'o'. She doesn't judge what people do behind closed doors, but she never expected Bucky and Steve to have that kind of relationship.

"God, you probably think I'm some kind of creep now. I didn't—"

"No, I mean, as long as it's consensual, who am I to tell people what they could and couldn't enjoy?"

At her response, Bucky shuts his mouth mid sentence to recalibrate his next words.

"It's consensual, don't worry." He reassures her, raising his hands in a gesture to make his point clear. She smiled. Just a little quirk up on the corners of her mouth.

"Then that's okay. Are you—" she trailed off, not quite sure what to call whatever it is they had going on in between them. They seemed like friends the first time she met them, but maybe she's just bad at judging body language.

"Close friends, sometimes more." He explains, short. She assumed there was at least a deep emotional connection. While also fucking each other.

While she'd never had someone to call her significant other, or at least a friend with benefit, she understands relationships can be complicated like that. So she won't press further.

"I'm done. Shall we go?"

***

The ride back to the facility was quiet. It seemed like Lilith was not much of a talker, though she didn't really give him the vibe of someone extremely shy, just a healthy amount of it. She was probably more comfortable with silence. So Bucky's approach was just to ask her questions and if she wanted to share more, then he'd let her. Either way, he won't force her into anything.

"How did you find out about your powers?" He questioned her. She rarely mentioned it even in passing, which seemed weird to him considering it's the main reason she was there.

"As soon as I gained consciousness. So, when I was three?"

"That's a really young age to know you could do something like that. Surprised you handled it so well." And he checked—well, Steve did. Her records are clean. Not even mild destruction of property.

"I spent a lot of time at home. It helped." That makes sense.

"And what about school? I went through puberty a long time ago, but I know just how much hormones make us all wacky. Being a hormonal teen is one thing. Being hormonal and having superpowers…" is an entirely different category. There are hundreds of reports of telekinetic teens destroying buildings. And the stronger the power, the greater the destruction.

"Home-schooled through middle school, and I just kept to myself in high school."

It's really hard to gauge what she's feeling when she talks to him. She's not entirely expressive save for that smile she gave him earlier, one he will always cherish. Plus, her voice seemed a little…flat. Maybe he was being delusional when he thought she'd shown him interest before this. Shit. This was one of the biggest idiot moves—trying to befriend someone who doesn't want to be his friend. She's probably the way she is because of how she was raised, though, so maybe it'll be worth it to try just a little more to get her to break out of her shell.

"You don't talk much, huh?" He continued when they were stuck in a mini traffic jam.

"I don't. I like hearing you, though. Your…voice."

Fuck. she was all cold before, then she said something like that, like it's something people just outwardly say in normal conversations. An in?

"Yeah?" he smirked, leaning back a little to face her slightly. "What do you like about it?"

She seemed to make a show of contemplating. It's almost always like this with her. She'd take a moment before answering, as if she was doing some tough mental maths.

"I like the little rasp when you end your sentences. It scratches my brain in a good way. You'd make a good audiobook narrator." His eyes squinted, trying to figure out if she was flirting or if it was just a genuine compliment.

"See, normally when women say things like that to me, they're flirting, but I can't tell that with you." The hands on her lap stirred, and Bucky was just now noting that she was rubbing her thumb repetitively like she's nervous of him. And not the good kind of nervous, either.

"Shit. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Next time I do that, you have permission to yell at me."

"Why would I do that?" She tilts her head as she asks him. Heaven above, she's impenetrable.

"So I remember not to do it again? I think I've misread you from before, I thought you were interested in me," he explained, laughing at how silly this all is.

"I think you're very attractive." Lilith began, halting his laugh in its tracks. Her hands move in a rhythm, floating a piece of lint in between them using her powers. It's like he was whiplashed. From one emotion to another, with every word coming out of her mouth.

"I just don't know how to show my emotions well. I'm flattered you would want to flirt with me, but I don't think it should extend to more than that."

"Can I ask why?" Bucky inquired, no longer able to rein in the string of curiosity. Lilith came into his life with the sole purpose of uncoiling it from its neatly arranged center.

"I'm…very hard to be with. I go days where I don't talk and days where I talk too much. And if I like something or someone, I latch into it like an obsession and forget that other people exist. Sometimes I hate being touched. Sometimes I require bone-crushing hugs. I don't want someone to think that they like me, only to find me too much to be with."

Too much. She said that she can be too much for someone. He emphatised to a certain degree, having suffered PTSD. But, more than anything, he wanted so much to be there for her and tell her that she would never be too much. He wished he was there to deal with the people who put these thoughts into her head.

"Lilith, I won't press if you don't want me to, but I don't flirt with someone I didn't already intend to make mine. And if someone's mine, I'll do whatever I can to keep them happy. If not talking for days makes them happy, then so be it. There are other ways to show someone you care besides words and physical touch."

She looked down again, picking at her finger, and Bucky wondered if he'd made his intentions too clear. God, he wants her. Want to learn everything he could about her. But he knows that what he feels is all too much too fast and that's not a good sign. He should talk to his therapist. The torrent of mixed feelings he's going through right now might be the very thing that spelled the end of whatever this is. Moderation. He needs to proceed with moderation.

"Okay then." Her words silenced his thoughts. He hated the way his cock jumped when she gave him that look she just did, like she's giving him a piece of her trust. "Go ahead, you have my permission to court me."

Chapter 2

AO3

#stuckyxoc #stucky #buckyxfemale oc #stevebucky #steve x bucky #steve/oc/bucky #stevexfemale oc #original character #marvel mcu #mcu fic #flirting #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers

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violettelueur · 4 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHT || BOREDOM

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda + aoi todo + zenin mai + miwa kasumi + gakuganji yoshinobu (mentions of itadori yuji + ieiri shoko) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 02 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 5.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : assault

↳ next episode : small fry and reverse retribution

↳ barista’s notes : hi there everyone! right now i know i haven’t been the most active i have been but i really thankful on how patient you all are ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ my procrastination has reach a new all time high since my birthday is on saturday and i am dreading becoming 18 because that means i will be a legal adult and i also have exams soon...ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ moving on from that, i hope you all enjoys today’s episode!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

but the little flick that Y/N does is inspired from this video here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

ꕥ

“I never really thought you were the type that would go to the beach,” you commented, as you leisurely walked towards the calm ocean with a pair of arms wrapped around yours (that was holding your shoes) since your mother wanted to walk side by side with you to enjoy this tranquil moment together.

“I never thought that about myself either, but it’s better to be surprised then going back to the city again, is it not?” your mother asked with a let out a gentle laugh before instantly halting the moment you both felt the warm water covering your bare feet.

“I guess so,” you stated before using your other arm to partly cover your face due to the sunlight brightly blinding your eyes. However, it seemed like where your mother was standing wasn’t causing her too much irritation - maybe it wasn't as bright from where she was.

Currently, it was sunset at Tatadohama beach - to which surprised you that there weren’t as many people as you thought - where your mother had taken you since she thought you both deserved a bit of a break before you could go back to school since it was the summer break and to be honest, you needed it since you and your mother just came back from a job of exorcising a grade-one curse while trying to escape the scene before any other jujutsu sorcerers came.

“You look beautiful though, your mother has good taste doesn’t she?” your mother teasingly asked in a rhetorical manner, as she took her time to observe you rather than the sunset that was in front of her. Right now, you were some simple jean shorts that were somewhat quite large letting the gentle breeze cool you down leading you to fasten a black belt with a silver buckle which tucked in a simple short-sleeved oversized white button-up shirt that was loose, so you wouldn’t feel tight around your upper body as well as dressing for the warm weather that was approaching.

“It is quite plain, but it’s simple and cute,” you commented, as you peered down at your mother’s clothing choices before looking back up to view the beautiful setting in front of you, as your mother smiled gently before placing her head on your shoulder.

“Promise me that you’ll be okay,” your mother suddenly uttered quietly, leading you to give off a confused look before turning your head down slightly only to discover a small smile on her face with softened eyes as if she was relishing the moment with you.

“You’re acting like you're going to die tomorrow,” you comedically commented, leading your mother to laugh at your statement which caused you to giggle slightly since your mother’s laugh was always contagious when you were with her. Taking a deep breath in to calm down, your mother slowly calmed down before lifting her head up as she sighed.

“Well, anything can happen and I want your word that you will do anything to be safe,” your mother expanded on her previous statement, causing you to turn to her to look at her in the eye, trying to see and understand what your mother really wanted you to know before you nodded at her with a small smile.

“I promise mother”

ꕥ

“Oi Y/N, wake up”

Slowly opening your eyes, you slowly blinks a few times as you try to get a clearer view from what you were looking at before steadily realising that you were at the track field where you were training with the rest of the students.

Shifting your eyes to look up slightly, only to discover all the upperclassmen looking down at you with the tree leaves covering you from the sunlight that was beaming down right now.

‘Oh...that’s right, I’m at Jujutsu Tech’

“Sorry for making you fight with all of us, I bet you were exhausted, but we need you to check up on Megumi and Nobara since they went to do some errands,” Panda expressed with hands pressed together as a sign of forgiveness.

“Kelp,” Inumaki commented as if affirming Panda’s statement leading you to sit up slowly before stretching your arms to get read of the stiffness that was consuming them before taking in Zenin’s outstretched arm to help you up - something you both been doing for quite some time during the week - before picking up the black track top of brought out for today’s training that you were laying on top of.

“Sorry for sleeping, where are they?” you asked, as you covered your mouth to yawn since you didn’t want to seem rude to your second-year seniors.

“They should be getting a few drinks for themselves and us from the vending machines, they didn’t want to wake you up, but we knew they probably need some help remembering what we want,” Zenin answered, as she used her thumb to point behind her the direction you needed to take.

“Sorry, I’ll get going then,” you commented before tying the track top around your waist before picking up your black katana since you didn’t want to leave it alone before waving at them when you were beginning to head off.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you mentioned before Inuamki shouted ‘Salmon’ back at you before you swiftly made your way up the stone steps to find both your classmates Fushiguro and Kugisaki to get the drinks that the other wanted since you knew that they’ll probably both forget or take too long for your senior’s liking.

“I’m surprised she can still run after all those practice matches,” Panda stated, as he continued to stare at the direction that you headed out in.

“She’s strong, there is no surprise Gojo has taken her into his family and out of training to take some missions,” Zenin commented before continuing with, “she comes back really quickly to resume training with us,”.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki mentioned, as he nodded at his classmate’s remark about you before all of the second years went off for their walk, as they gave you time to run your errands before coming back to the field to train for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

ꕥ

Looking at her drinks in front of her, Kugisaki was disappointed at the lack of variety that the machines had as she groaned in annoyance before pressing her choice of the cold drink she wanted before checking to make sure there was orange juice in the vending machine since she knew you would want some when she got back to you.

“Couldn’t they put in a few more vending machines?” Kugisaki asked in an irritated tone, as she bent down to collect her drink from the takeout port before turning around to look at her classmate, who was standing behind her.

“They can’t. There are only so many workers who can come in here,” Fushiguro answered, as he turned to look at her only for the female to turn back around to place more money into the coin slot. “What else are you buying?” Fushiguro asked since he knew that Kugisaki as well as himself didn’t know what the upperclassmen wanted - that was usually your job.

“Gojo really likes orange juice, so I wanted to buy her some since she did train with all of us, I bet she’s still sleeping,” Kugisaki commented before contemplating if you wanted to bottle or carton version of the citrus juice since she didn’t know if you always bought the carton one on purpose.

However, before she could come to the conclusion on what you probably wanted, she noticed from the corner of her eye that there were two people standing at the other side of the outdoor hallway they were at. From what she can observe, it seemed like those two people were from Jujutsu Tech due to their uniforms as the male had what seemed to be an angry expression while the other student - who looked similar to Zenin Maki - had a sly smile on her face.

“What are you doing here, Zenin-senpai?” Fushiguro asked in confusion since he wasn’t expecting anyone from Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College to come to their side.

“Oh, she’s one, too?” Kugisaki queried while turning her head to look at Fushiguro before continuing with, “They do seem similar, are they sisters?” as she turned back to look at the female student to get a closer look at her.

“They’re twins,” Fushiguro answered quickly.

“Don’t call me that, Fushiguro-kun. You make me sound the same as Maki, call me Mai,” Mai stated, as she gave the two Tokyo students a wink.

“So there are the pinch hitters for Okkotsu and the third-years?” the male student stated with a hostile tone while glaring at them with a look of pure disappointment.

“We came here with the principal because we were worried about you. Your classmate died, right? Was that rough? Or did you think nothing of it?” Mai asked with the smirk still painted on her face, leading Fushiguro and Kugisaki to tense at her sudden but somewhat offensive questions.

“What are you trying to say?” Fushiguro asked tensely, as he suddenly felt a slight bit of annoyance building up in his stomach.

“It’s okay, some things are hard to say out loud, so I’ll say it for you,” Mai amusingly stated before proceeding, “‘Vessel’ makes it sound nice, but it means he was a half-curse monster. Having such a tainted, inhuman being beside you brazenly calling himself a jujutsu sorcerer must have been revolting right? Aren’t you feeling better now that he’s dead?”. However, her questions only lead to extremely vexed expressions appearing on both of the Tyoko student’s faces.

“Mai, don’t bring up such pointless topics, I’m only here to see if these guys are fit to take Okkotsu’s place, that’s all I want to know,” the large male declared as he took a few steps forwards before throwing his school jacket to the side, leading to the shikigami sorcerer to tense up once again as he began to worry what was about to happen.

“Fushiguro, was it?” the large male asked before shouting in a proud manner…

“What kind of woman is your type?”

Suddenly perplexed, Fushiguro as well as Kugisaki, shifted their heads to the side simultaneously to convey their unexpected confusion to the two Tokyo students especially to the male that had just asked the weird as well as absurd question.

“Depending on your answer, I’ll beat you half to death right here and drag Okkotsu, or at least the third-years, out to the exchange event,” the large Kyoto student threatened as he processed to unexpectedly and violently ripped his purple shirt into shreds, showcasing his large muscular upper body before positioning himself in his usual fighting stance as he then suddenly announced, “by the way, my type is a tall woman with a big ass!”.

“Why do I have to talk about my taste in women with a guy I just met?” Fushiguro annoyingly asked as he began to express an irritated expression on his face at the Kyoto student that suddenly declared a fight out of nowhere.

“He’s right. That’s a tall hurdle for an antisocial guy,” Kugisaki unintentionally comedically commented, as she pointed at her stoic classmate, leading Fushiguro to express a more vexed expression.

“You be quiet. This is confusing enough already. You’ll just make it more complicated,” Fushiguro mentioned as an irked mark became more visible on his right cheek, displaying his displeasure on what was happening right now.

“Kyoto, third-year, Todo Aoi,” the Kyoto Tech sorcerer introduced himself. “Introduction over,” Todo announced as he then continued by saying, “now we’re friends. Hurry up and answer, if you prefer men, that’s fine too,”.

“A person’s fetishes reflect everything about them,” Todo explained, indicating the reason why he was asking his laughable question in the first place. “People with boring taste in women are boring people themselves,” Todo passionately proclaimed, as if he was presenting a speech to the whole of Japan at this moment in time before he exclaimed, “I hate boring men.”

“And I hate drags like you”

Turning his head slightly to view what was going on behind him, Todo managed to get a glimpse of a person that was right behind his school mate. A female standing with her hands in her pockets with what seemed to be a katana hanging horizontally unlike Okkotsu, who had his vertically, with a nonchalant expression painted on her face.

“Also your drag ass friend, she has quite a big mouth for a Grade three sorcerer from what I can sense, is this what I’m really fighting against Fushiguro?” you asked before you started to walk past the other sorcerer as you made your way to the vending machine to grab the drinks that the second-years usually requested when they made you run errands during a break from training.

“Gojo! You’re awake?” Kugisaki asked as she smiled at you before quickly mentioning there was money already in the machine since she was planning to get you your drink.

“You heard everything?” Fushiguro questioned as he turned his view to you, only to discover you pressing on the button that correlated to the carton of orange juice as you mentioned to Kugisaki that you were going to pay her back before turning your head to look at your other classmate.

“Yeah, I heard everything. You guys are loud and to be honest, both of them need to shut up, they’re such drags,” you muttered disrespectfully since you could tell they were at least a year or two years above you in the academic year.

However, it seemed like your insult didn’t stop Todo from explaining his passion for people’s preferences in a partner as he continued to declare his speech with pride, much to your complete dismay.

“As I was saying, the exchange event is where my soul can be free as blood boils and flesh clashes, who knows what I might do if my last exchange event ends up boring me?” Todo rhetorically questioned as he maintained his fighting stance as if he was ready to pounce within a second with a confident smile on his face.

‘Shut up...I have to meet with Gojo-sensei later and I don’t want a massive headache to come in before it becomes worse when I see him’

“Hey, aren’t the Jujutsu Tech schools four-year schools?” Kugisaki asked in an unsure manner as she turned to look at Fushiguro since she was trying to take note from you on what drinks to buy in case you weren’t able to for the seniors. However, she was confused about why Todo mentioned that this was going to be his last exchange event when he was a thrid-year.

“Only third-years and under can join the exchange event,” Fushiguro quickly answered Kugisaki’s question as she then let out an understandable ‘Hmm’ to inform her classmate that she acknowledged what he had just told her before swiftly turning back to notice that you had brought a cold water bottle for what seemed to be for Zenin (Maki) since you and her were looking at your phone to see a note displayed on the screen.

“As a show of kindness, I’ll let you off only half-dead right now,” Todo threatened again before repeating the weird question that instinctively started this whole situation, “answer me, Fushiguro. What kind of woman is your type?”

“Is this some kind of comedy routine?” the shikigami user angrily asked, as he increasingly got annoyed at what was happening right now and was confused on why he was picked in the first place.

“Don’t get into a fight, I seriously can’t be bothered to use any reverse cursed technique to heal your wounds if you do and we need to get back to training soon,” you stated before pressing on the last button for the last drink that was needed to be given for Inumaki when you get back.

However, it seemed as if both of your classmates didn’t listen to you since Kugisaki was now observing the other student behind Todo due to her uniform. “Is that your summer uniform?” Kugisaki asked in a light tone, as she admired the outfit before continuing with “ticks me off, but it’s nice”.

“Are you both even listening?” you muttered in annoyance before grabbing the small bag - that you kept from the time you went to your mother’s grave - in the pocket of your nylon cargo pants to place the drinks after you had got them from the dispenser since you didn't want to struggle to carry them.

Looking to his side, Fushiguro looked at his classmate as he began to analyse the situation that was currently going on. From what he could gather, Kugisaki was unarmed and didn’t have her usual hammer with her like she normally did meaning he was wanting to avoid any confrontation that could happen at this moment in time, while you were armed with your usual katana, yet he didn’t want to risk you revealing your true identity to the Kyoto students - not like he really had to worry about that.

‘Not forgiving people isn’t a bad thing. That’s just part of your kindness, isn’t it?’

That’s what his sister said to him once.

“I don’t have a particular preference, as long as she has unshakeable character, I won’t ask for more,” Fushiguro answered, to which you were surprised since you predicted that he wasn’t the type to reveal that sort of information. On the other hand, it seemed like Mai was pleased with the answer as she smiled sweetly at the boy causing you to shudder.

‘Ain’t...they like….family…?’

“Not a bad answer, if you had said something like ‘big boobs,’ I’d have killed you,” Kugisaki mentioned with a please expression on her face since she was relieved at the fact Fushiguro wasn’t suggestive like the Kyoto student in front of you three right now.

“Shut up,” Fushiguro muttered in an irritated tone.

However, it seemed like not everyone was pleased with his answer, as a tear was shed on a cheek.

“I knew it...You’re boring, Fushiguro,” Todo stated in a depressed manner before swiftly pushing himself to swing Fushiguro violently outside the hallway you were standing.

“DIDN’T I SAY NOT TO GET INTO FIGHTS, YOU DRAG?!” you screamed, as you turned your head to the direction where Fushiguro was struck away.

“FUSHIGURO!” Kugisaki panicked as she began to rush to his aid before a pair of arms was wrapped around her to halt her movement.

“Poor Fushiguro-kun, even a talented second-grade jujutsu sorcerer is nothing more than a first-year against the top-grade Todo-senpai, I’ll have to comfort him later,” Mai expressed with a sickly-sweet tone. However, you already had something to say.

“That may be true, but your Todo-senpai is nothing against a special-grade,” you mentioned with a smirk on your face, causing the female sorcerer to look towards you with widened eyes before suddenly remembering what Kugisaki called you by.

“Gojo…” Mai stuttered.

“Gojo, I’m okay! Just make sure Fushiguro is,” Kugisaki said to you with a proud smile on her face, causing you to drop the bag that you had in hand before quickly untying the red charm that was at the end of your katana.

‘I don’t need to unsheathe my katana, but I can’t use any of my curse spells to restrain him, so the chain will have to do’

“Hold this for me!” you shouted as you swiftly tossed the charm in her direction to which she caught easily since her arms still had movement before you rushed towards the scene where Fushiguro and Todo was.

‘This is such a drag right now…’ you thought, as you made it outside to find Fushiguro kneeling on the ground with a few new scratches on his face as well as his now stained blue track. However, it seemed as if Todo wasn’t done with his first attack since he was talking towards the Tokyo student like he was his prey.

On the other hand, you didn’t seem to care as you looked at him with an annoyed expression - even though you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Didn’t I say not to get into any fights? I can’t be bothered to use any reversed cursed techniques right now and I don’t want to bother Shoko-san since I need to train with her to know how to use it properly!” you raged, yet once again, it seemed like both of the male sorcerer’s weren’t listening to you.

“I knew at first glance that you were a boring guy, but you shouldn’t judge a person by their looks, right?” Todo questioned rhetorically again, causing the flames of rage to increase inside your soul since this situation was getting a little too similar to the one back at the detention centre.

“So I went out of my way to ask you, but you just trampled on my kindness,” Todo whined with a pout on his face while wiping the dripping tears that continued to fall.

“Is your brain as pineapple as your head?” Fushiguro insulted, as he gave the senior a weirded-out look.

“You’re the one to talk, hedgehog!” you screamed in annoyance since you were getting frustrated at the fact that no one was listening to you.

“I heard you don’t use cursed techniques.” Fushiguro randomly mentioned as he got up on his feet causing you to look at him with a death glare as well as suddenly being curious about what he meant by ‘don’t use cursed techniques’.

“Huh? Oh, that’s rumour’s false, I used them against the special-grade,” Todo plainly stated like it was an everyday face before raising his arm to wave his hand side to side as if to ‘slap’ away the rumours that were going on about him before continuing with, “but I heard rumours going around about a girl that went toe-to-toe with Sukuna, she was fighting with you right? Where is she?”

‘MAYBE THE GIRL THAT IS BEHIND YOU, SHOUTING AT YOU DRAGS!’

“That’s a relief to hear!” Fushiguro declared as if he was confident, causing you to look at him enraged with fury.

“THAT IS NOT A RELIEF TO HEAR, YOU DRAG!” you screamed, as you were now handing on an extremely thin piece of thread that was going to snap any second, leading you to attack both of them if this got out of hand.

However, once again, Fushiguro and Todo didn’t listen to you for one second as the shikigami sorcerer began to signal his shikigami to appear with the familiar hand-sign of ‘Nue’ back with you fought with him against Sukuna and ‘Gama’ from when you were training with him - yet, you were completely perplexed on what he had combined when both together.

Suddenly, a familiar shadow began to swiftly emerge from the ground before it suddenly took form into something you didn’t really expect from the Ten-Shadow Technique sorcerer.

“Frogs with wings?” you muttered, as you stared at the sight in complete surprise since you didn’t expect to see a few frogs with wings appearing in front of you - you never thought you see something like this in your life, to be honest.

“Bottomless Well!” Fushiguro chanted before a few of the frogs croaked in response causing you to stare that the creature in a now unreadable expression.

‘They will be weaker than their counterpart shikigami but they do have many benefits....didn’t Gojo-sensei mention something about the Kamo’s family?’

On the other hand, it seemed like your future opponent in the exchange event didn’t seem so nervous about the technique. Of course, from what you remembered from training as well as some knowledge that you had gained just from seeing one movement from Todo, you had come to the conclusion that he was a close-range fighter, probably had some experience with weapons since it would be foolish if a fighter didn’t have any sense it was a risk of them just having knowledge with their hands.

However, before you could even continue to gain more knowledge just by looking at the back of the well muscular sorcerer, there was a quick shift in the air causing you to snap out of your trance only to find Todo behind suddenly behind Fushiguro as he processed to wrap his arms around your classmate’s waist.

“Flimsy and shallow...Both your body and your taste in women!” Todo shouted before lifting Fushiguro upwards like he weighed nothing before aggressively smashing his headfirst into the ground behind him, causing you to discover how flexible the Kyoto student was before he suddenly jumped up into the air to give his opponent a punch, only for Fushiguro to dodge just in time, yet that didn’t seem to last since the second he moved away to gain some distance, he was violently smacked with a fist.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted, before quickly forcing the soles of your sheet to push your body forward to an extreme length, just in time to get in between both of the male sorcerers that were fully ignoring you since the moment you entered into the conversation to grab the drinks.

“Gojo!” Fushiguro yelled out in a panic since he was extremely worried that you were now taking a hit for him.

However, it seemed like Todo was now suddenly the one that was worried since his incoming punch seemed to hit something really small since it didn’t cover all his knuckles, yet it didn’t break like he thought it would, causing him to let the debris slowly clear away as his eyes began to notice the sight of a sleek black wooden scabbard standing vertically from the ground halting his extremely large fist, while you were kneeling down behind it, holding the handle with an extremely displeased look on your face with Fushiguro behind you as your other hand had a grip on the collar of his blue track jacket.

“You know Fushiguro, you are full of surprises but a complete drag when it comes to not listening to me,” you muttered, before slowly letting go of his collar as your turned your now free hand to face Kyoto Student in front of you, who was looking down at you with a shocked expression on his face.

“Todo Aoi right? You see, Gojo-sensei asked me to meet up with him and I don’t want a headache since I know he’s gonna give me one later, so I’ll see you later okay?” you sinisterly stated, before opening your palm to him as you slowly bend your middle finger towards you while placing your thumb on top of it, right on the nail.

“That looks like a nice construction sight,” you nonchalantly mentioned as you looked up at the wooden structure behind you before speedily flicking out your middle finger, causing Todo’s body to suddenly be pushed back with an extremely large force of cursed energy leading to the wooden panels to instantly break once his body made contact before you assumed his body landed on the wooden flooring that was above since you couldn’t see him anymore.

“Gojo…” Fushiguro muttered in shock as he didn’t expect something like that to happen before he noticed the same hand that flicked his opponent away was coming towards him with the same gesture.

Flicking his forehead gently, you turned to look at him with a straight face before you used the same palm to let your cursed energy become slowly positive with some concentration to heal his wound that was on his head.

“It’s not much since I haven’t perfected it yet, but it will deal with the blood loss before you go to Shoko-san, you drag” you commented before sighing.

‘There was no need for me to remove the charm after all, but that’s enough for me to gain information for the event’

“Megumi! Y/N!” someone shouted, causing you both to look up only to find your second-year seniors Inumaki and Panda looking down below you to where you remembered flicking Todo towards, leading you to assume that they went to where there was the most ruckus was happening. However, next to Panda was Todo, who smirked down at the sight of both of you below.

“Fushiguro, let’s train our hardest okay?” you muttered, so only your classmate could hear, leading him to look at your with confused eyes before you turned to him with a smile, “you’re really strong, but I know you and Kugisaki can get stronger, so just follow me when I need you to okay?” you asked, before standing up on your feet once you managed to stop the blood loss from Fushiguro’s head.

“Panda-senpai! Inumaki-senpai! Can you take Fushiguro to Shoko-san, Gojo-sensei said he needs me for a discussion, I assume Maki-san is with Kugisaki!” you yell out.

“Salmon!” Inuamki shouted back before all of the three sorcerers were out of your sights, causing you to turn back to Fushiguro before giving your hand to him to help himself up.

‘Grade-one Todo Aoi and grade-three Zenin Mai ha?’

ꕥ

“Ah Y/N, my daughter there you are!” Gojo cheered in delight once he saw you on the other side of the sliding door before you decided to step in since it was left open, to who you assumed was your adoptive dad that opened it earlier for his own reason.

“Excuse me,” you muttered before taking a quick glance around the room before noticing that there were only two more people with you and Gojo right now. From a side glance, you noticed a girl, probably the same age as you or maybe a year older at the latest, with long blue hair with a slightly slanted fridge wearing a suit that seemed to suit her really well even if her youthful and adorable face.

‘A semi grade two? No..maybe three like Mai…’

However, as your eyes shifted to the sight on the opposite side where Gojo was seated, there was an old man seated while holding onto a wooden cane, who seemed to be somewhere in his late 80s but you wouldn’t tell since he seemed too hollow for you liking, yet something about him gave you an off-putting feeling.

“I wanted to tell you about the two special-grade curses that attacked me the other day,” Gojo happily mentioned with a smile on his face, causing you to look at him with a confused expression since he seemed too happy for someone that got attacked.

“Why do you look so happy? That should be the opposite reaction Gojo-sensei,” you remarked, as you made your way towards him only for his response to be a little pout.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me your dad,” Gojo childishly whined.

“Never,” you shut down his offer as quickly as you could before uttering him to tell you about the special curses he wanted to inform you about, only for him to suddenly pull out a piece of paper with two childish drawings on them, causing you to look at the art in a fed-up manner before snatching it off his hand to get a closer look at the curses that he masterfully drew.

“As I said before, the two cursed spirits were capable of communication and they probably have allies who are just as strong,” Gojo declared in a serious manner, causing you to shiver at the 180-degree personality turn that he had done right in front of you.

“It’s not just our enemies, either. Hakari, Okkotsu, your Todo and now my daughter Gojo. The level of our students has risen drastically in recent years, as well,” Gojo stated as he stared at the old man before he processed with, “then there was last year’s incident with Geto Suguru and now, the appearance of Sukuna’s vessel,”.

“What are you trying to say?” the old man asked, as he looked at your adoptive father with an expressionless look on his face (not that you could ever tell if there was any expression in the first place).

“Hehe, you don’t know? The wave of power you guys have been trying to hold back with your pointless status and traditions has grown bigger than you can handle and is now descending upon us. You won’t be able to measure the coming age with the classification of ‘special grade’ if you think I’m the only one who’ll be fighting back, you’re going to get hurt, old man,” Gojo declared with a smirk on his face as he felt the presence of the realisation that was coming to you now.

‘That man...was the reason why…..Itadori….’

“I think you are getting a bit out of line,” the old man lightly threatened in a lower tone as he glared at the sorcerer in front of him.

“I think it’s you that’s getting out of line,” you muttered in vexation as you glared down hostility at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table as the paper that you were holding began to crumble in your grasp. “If you get to kill someone by using me as a tool, let me return the favour next time with your head,” you threatened in a spiteful manner causing the old man to look at you with the same hollow eyes as he did with Gojo.

“Oh! Scary! Well, that's all I wanted to say, I’ll be going now with my daughter,” Gojo mentioned, as he got up from his seat before placing his hands on each of your upper arms to push you towards the direction of the door, before guiding himself through that gap that was left open.

“Oh, Principal Yaga will be coming in about two hours. Later!” Gojo departed cheekily, before closing the door as he then guided you away from the room the higher-up was in since he knew you were in a state of shock at the discovery you had made about your deceased classmate: Itadori Yuji.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

‘Mother….’

930 notes · View notes

jaeminlore · 4 years ago

Text

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham. Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

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Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [2]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: 3.1k, half of which is definitely filth

taglist: @from-xero @taeyongandfree @ten-gift @louvyves @sweetutopia @yyyereum @jung-breadshop

{this is a work of fiction}

it's one of those days that you look at a person and wonder "how did i get into this mess?"

eric's got his back plastered to the lockers, leg perched and his heel hooked onto one of the padlocks as he talks to his friends. he glances about and catches your gaze, the innocent glimmer in his eyes suddenly replaced with a predatorial glare.

everytime he sees you, he sees an opportunity - an opportunity to ruin the only other heartbreaker in school.

which he's already done once.

the sight of him cues the chills down your spine; flashes from some nights before zipping through your head like a fast-forwarded video.

eric brushes his hair out of his eyes, exposing his forehead. with a tiny smirk and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he looks down at his phone.

as his fingers fly across the screen and he hits send, yours vibrates in your pocket.

eric son: one night not enough?

you look back up and see him send one more message before shoving it into his pocket.

another message dings across your screen.

eric son: all you have to do is ask, princess

you look up from your phone screen to see eric moving off in his group of friends, giving you one last wink at that before he turns around.

the warmth emitting from your phone heats up in your palm when you tighten your grip around it, frustrated with yourself and frustrated with how easily he's got you wrapped around his finger.

"whew!" a sharp sigh exclaims from behind you, and you immediately attempt to erase the agitation off your face. turning to face your new company, you slide your phone back into your pocket.

"where were you?"

yujeong huffs and rests her weight on her hips, stretching to a side while yawning. "dealing with some girls sobbing over jung wooseok graduating. what about you?"

"what do you mean 'what about me'?" you turn to frown at her, arms crossing over your chest. "I've been here the entire time waiting for you."

"you think i didn't know where you disappeared off to? at wooseok's party?"

your heart stops.

she begins walking, and you follow quietly.

"i know you went home without telling me."

oh.

your lips part to heave a sigh of relief, but you stop yourself and feign surprise instead. "oh!"

"'oh', she says," yujeong rolls her eyes. "you could've at least told me."

yes, because i'd want you to know that i rejected wooseok AND got ruined by eric sohn in the same night.

"sorry," you suck your lips in between your teeth and cling to her arm. "i wasn't feeling well."

"pity," yujeong sniffles. "someone found cum stains on the floor outside wooseok's garage. you should've seen it for yourself."

"huh," you blink, refusing to turn to her. "what were we expecting from wooseok's graduation party?"

"point taken," yujeong shrugs, and you slide off her to comb through your ponytail. "anyway, someone told me you finally got down to talking to eric last night at the party. how did that go?"

"um," the name triggers a fight-or-flight response in you, but you can't have yujeong see right through that.

"yeah, i mean... if you're the 'innocent heartbreaker' and he's the 'vicious' one, then that must've been one hell of a conversation!"

"huh!" with your brows raised, you look at her with wide, surprised eyes. "who the hell coined that?"

"i'on't know, like, everybody?" yujeong frowns, finally turning into the cafeteria. "besides, you never really liked him... nor spoken to him. so it must've been a surprise to anyone to see you talking to him."

the crowd in the cafeteria stirs to life as more people follow in behind you and yujeong, the lunch crowd beginning to create a ruckus in the enclosed space.

"we just... you know, bumped into each other."

"I've always wondered how you guys never bumped into each other before the party," yujeong yawns again, pulling you aside to a table and sitting the both of you down. "i didn't think your dance crew was so well separated."

"we deal with different genres," you sit and rest your forearms on the table. "no reason to mix our teams."

"anyway, i heard new leadership positions are out today so keep a lookout for that."

"oh?" you turn to her. "what about you? did you get anything in baseball?"

"no shit, sherlock. you're looking at the new captain."

"oh!" with a bright squeal, you stand and throw your arms around her. "I'm so proud of you!"

"don't be sappy," yujeong uses her finger to push your forehead away from her. "but thanks."

the stale air of the practice room guts you first, since you associate nothing else with this place except sweat tears and a couple of ankle twists.

the air conditioner whirs to life when you turn on the main control switch of the studio.

usually, you weren't the first one here and so you were more than surprised when you were. placing your bag down and fiddling with the sound system, you plug it into your phone turn up the jazz music since it's supposed to calm you down. the thought of the night before was far too aggressive and violent for you to stomach.

it's okay, you think. the rest will come soon and practise will ensue.

it's alright.

then the door clicks and you look up in the mirror to see eric in the reflection.

the thought zips through your neurons: something's wrong.

he shouldn't be here.

you look back down at your phone and feel your insides twitch at the sight of him. "this isn't your training slot."

"and you don't need to be here," eric smirks, drawing a frown across your face as you look up.

"what do you mean?"

eric smiles at you in the mirror, closing the door and locking it behind him.

now you finally turn around, watching as he strides to you with his hands in his back pockets.

"i cancelled practice."

"what do you mean you cancelled practice?"

"well," then he pauses just about a foot away from you, waves of uneasiness already flooding into your private space as you lean back against the countertop. "you're looking at the new captain."

you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.

"so the first move you made after becoming captain was to cancel training? very mature of you," with a huff and a smirk of disbelief, you pull out your phone, the jazz music abruptly stopping as you reach down for your bag.

"aren't you gonna congratulate me?"

you glare at him through your lashes as you lift your bag, but he's looking at you with wide, puppy eyes instead.

"congratulations," the wry, insincere remark draws a smile across his face.

"where are you going?"

"home. where else?" you swing your bag over your shoulder and take a step around him.

but of course, he stops you by grabbing your arm and holding you back to the countertop where you were previously leaning on. you yank your arm out of his grip but he finds your waist and hoists you up onto the countertop, the cold surface brushing up your skirt.

goosebumps erupt all over your exposed rear, including the skin on your arms for him to see.

"dance practice is cancelled but that doesn't mean you can't stay and accompany me."

"wait-" the whimper hums through you when his hands find your rear under the material, cupping your flesh in his hot palms. dipping his lips into your jaw, he begins planting soft kisses, deliberately making each and every one of them audible by your ears.

huffing and panting out of frustration, you squirm under him, unable to move due to the pressure he's exerting on your hips.

"it's only the two of us, princess," he whispers into your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand and your lips pull apart in a wince. "and what are you doing... wearing a skirt to dance practice?"

his hands are everywhere.

he's running them up and down your calves and thighs and gently pulling them further and further apart so he can slot himself between your knees.

on top of that, you were staring at your reflections in the mirror across the studio.

"i have an extra pair of leggings in my bag, for gods' sake."

eric chuckles devilishly, reeling backwards to look you in the eye.

"and what were you waiting for before you'd change into them?"

"for training to start?"

eric blinks, running his fingers through his hair again. resting his hands on the countertop's edge by your thighs, he leans in closer to you, eyes slightly hooded and searching yours as if looking for something.

"i heard you rejected wooseok."

the name drives a puncture through a lung, and the guilt surges through you again when you remember whose house it was that you let eric ruin you outside.

"that's none of your business."

a sly smirk stretches his lips apart, and he lifts his finger to pick at the buttons on your shirt. annoyance brings your hand up to his mischief and you grab his hand, holding it in place as you attempt to close your legs.

but he grabs your wrist with his free hand and pries it off his own, taking both your hands and sliding them over the rim of his joggers.

"for someone who's been dubbed the 'innocent heartbreaker', you're kind of feisty."

then he uses your fingers like puppets and pulls apart the drawstrings, loosening the material's hold around his pelvis.

"you wanna know what i think?"

"no."

"i think..." eric throws your arms over his shoulders and pulls you in closer, chest pressed against his with his lips brushing across the arch of your ear. "this 'innocent heartbreaker' image of yours? fake."

he pulls away, a disgustingly innocent smile wide across his face. it makes his eyes shine, and he's got an arrogant glimmer in his pupils as he reaches for your right knee, trailing a single finger up to your inner thigh.

"i think you use it to bait people into thinking that you're just a cute, pretty little girl..."

and he stops and harshly grips your thighs to yank you forward, just enough for most of your butt to remain on the countertop but your crotch to be over the edge.

"but in reality, you're just itching for someone to put you in your place."

he hears the gulp that's forced down your throat, and his hands come up to your jaw to hold your face still.

"isn't that right, princess?"

your mouth is dry.

your lips are dry.

and you open your mouth in a bid to hurl a string of vulgarities at him for coming at your title all too daringly, only for him to drop his hand to your throat and shove his lips between yours.

the pressure around your neck forces a groan up your throat, hands flying up to his shoulders to push him away (it was an attempt).

he releases your neck, lowering his hands to fiddle with your shirt's buttons while he attaches his lips to your jaw. using his nose to tilt your head to the side, you hear him take in your scent with a prolonged inhale.

eyes stuck to the ceiling lights, you're unsure whether the lights were blinding you, or you were just seeing stars.

the cool air finally kisses and blankets your chest when the top few buttons come undone, and before you can respond to the shivers that run through your body, eric's hands slide in between your thighs again.

the sudden, sensitive contact jolts your entire body, so eric anchors you down by grabbing your neck again.

"I'm sure you don't want the school to know that the 'innocent heartbreaker' isn't so innocent now, do you?"

he scoffs at the gulp he can feel in his grip and raises both brows when he pushes your underwear off your core. your pride flushes away when he finds nothing short of what he expected.

"oh, my," his tongue flies out and darts over his canine teeth, eyes locked onto yours as he presses his thumb onto your swollen need. "oh, princess... just ask."

your thighs are aching to close, but his hips are keeping them apart.

your hands are clawing into his arm, but it seems to be fuelling his pride even more.

he leans into you again, placing careful kisses along your collar bone and your jaw whilst resting his palms flat against the countertop.

"i'll give you the chance to watch yourself, hmm?"

and with that he trails his kisses down into your chest, hands sliding from the countertop and onto your thighs to hold them apart.

riling up the cotton of your skirt, his breath hits your core first, then the uneven texture of his tongue brushes across you.

he presses a kiss to your sensitivity first, then plunges his tongue into you. a sharp groan thrums through you, shivers drawing up your spine like sinful whispers.

his hair comes tangled between your fingers, thighs hung over his shoulders as eric moans and hums into you, the vibrations driving you over some edge you had forgotten even existed.

your hips buckle and jerk when he begins flicking his tongue against you, and your blurred vision lands on your reflection in the mirror.

eric son kneeling under you, with his head between your legs.

very quickly, your attention is torn away from the reflection and back down at him when he slides two fingers into you. focusing his tongue on your nub now, he begins pumping his fingers with ease and with a smirk plastered across his face.

you don't realise the mewls and whimpers you're giving him until he breaks off from your under, standing back up and pressing his lips to yours with his fingers still playing with you.

then he pulls away, and removes his fingers, bringing them up between your noses and flips his hand, allowing your neediness to glisten under the lighting.

"enjoying this, aren't you?" and with that smile on his face, he slides his fingers into his mouth, whirling his tongue all over his skin.

the lewd sight makes you cringe and writhe before him, so eric picks you up by your rear and walks the both of you to the mirror, turning you around to face yourself in the reflection.

oh.

no.

"wait-"

"'wait'?" eric bites on his bottom lip, taking your right hand and pressing them into the mirror. "oh, princess... i can wait all day, but can you?"

the question tears through you in waves, your head turning back to the mirror and your eyes watching the fog coat around your fingers in the mirror.

his fingers are interlaced with yours, his palm over yours as he pulls his joggers off with his free hand. smirking and looking up at you, he stops to push your underwear off your core, then slides himself between your folds instead of into you.

the frustration builds up, erupting through your throat in the form of a groan mixed with a mewl, earning a sadistic chuckle from him.

he pulls your left wrist down to your lower back, keeping the other plastered to the mirror as he gently and slowly, teases you, sliding over you.

your heart and stomach are plunging with every slide he gives you, the throbbing down below driving you absolutely nuts.

it's making you tear up, and you cry out in agony as your fist clenches over your lower back.

he leans forward, careful to keep his lips in contact with your lobe as he whispers the words,

"your body's mine, princess."

and with a subtle lean-back, and one swift push, he bottoms out, burying himself entirely inside you.

your chest puffs as you suck in the harshest breath in your life, and your entire body shivers upon the fill.

"look at yourself," his husky voice is low and dangerous in your ear. you swallow your saliva, walls clenching around him as your legs begin to tremble.

he slides out, and pushes back in slowly, careful to make you live through every second and every inch of him as he does it.

'it' meaning drilling the sinful bliss through you.

so he picks up his pace every time he bottoms out, ensuring that your legs wouldn't give out under you.

but soon, the lewd noises of slapping and muffled moaning drowns out your thoughts, your eyes now tearing as you look down at the wooden flooring. multiple whimpers and mewls try to escape your throat but you suck your lips in between your teeth, every thrust jerking you forward.

"good girl," eric reminds you, taking the hand that was previously plastered to the mirror and gathering both your wrists on your lower back.

it forces you to straighten up, back arched away from his chest as he holds you close to the mirror, the bottom half of your ponytail messy over your unbuttoned top.

in the mirror, your skirt was blocking the view where he was fucking all senses out from you.

it was the messy, whored-out look on your face; the marks on your collarbone and the bouncing of your hair with your arms held behind you that made your knees weak.

eric leans over into your neck, locking eyes with you through the reflection as he kisses your jaw.

by some miracle, his hip buckles at an angle, and something explodes inside you. his free arm circles your waist in a bid to keep you upright atop your knees failing you, thighs flexing and trembling against his.

your body nearly goes limp under his hold, and he pulls out just in time to release on the flesh of your rear.

he huffs, sighing and blinking away his own climax. eric releases your wrists and pulls your underwear over your soreness now, still holding onto your waist to keep you from falling over.

eric smiles at you in the mirror when he catches your tired gaze, brushing the little strands of hair out of your eyes.

his palm runs from your waist and up your chest, gently pushing your head back onto his shoulder. nose delving into your jaw again, he side-eyes you in the mirror, pressing his lips onto your neck.

"wear your hair up more often, you look more..."

"fuckable."

he takes your jaw and turns it to face him now, eyes glued to yours as he scans your face.

"oh, by the way... congratulations on becoming vice-captain."

#nevertheless: wishful thinking #eric smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #eric sohn smut #eric scenarios #eric imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #eric x reader #the boyz x reader #eric x reader smut #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn imagines

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ionianstar · 3 years ago

Text

A little Lukanette vignette I guess

*****

"How do you feel?" Alya's hand covered Marinette's as they sat in a corner of the bar. They'd decided to head out for an impromptu girls night. Juleka and Rose had disappeared, probably for Juleka's sake. She was always an easily overwhelmed girl.

Marinette smiled, if somewhat sadly.

"I'm okay. It's been a long time anyway. And I don't regret anything." She forced her voice to remain strong. She picked up the glass of rum and coke on the table and took a hearty swig.

Alya gave her hand a squeeze and retreated.

A loud set of greeting was heard from the entrance and Marinette thought she heard Rose's telltale squeak in the commotion. She shrugged it off and pulled her phone from her pocket and the screen lit up, a message displayed on it.

Luka

Are you alright?

Marinette felt her throat close at the words and she quietly cleared it, taking another sip of her drink.

Her friends knew about her and Adrien, how they'd split up almost a year ago. Alya and Juleka however, knew the inside details as to the why. The arguments, the manipulation, the hurt, all the ugly things the two year relationship brought.

And they could see the toll it took on their friend.

Marinette felt tears prick at her eyes and inhaled, determined not to ruin the eyeliner Juleka had excitedly applied before their arrival. She had even worn her shorts and let her hair down. Marinette refused to let herself wallow, at least for tonight.

"Hey Luka! Hey, Adrien." Alya's change in tone was detected only by Marinette because she was so close and the music was blessedly loud.

Marinette felt her heart drop into her stomach and turn.

She forced herself to look up at the two boys and plastered a smile onto her face. She knew she couldn't form words yet so she raised her half-empty glass to them in greeting, downing the other half in 3 pleading gulps. Alya talked good-naturedly with both as Marinette stuck her hands into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She opened it and flitted about in it, checking for her spending money, and then her emergency money. Satisfied with her spending funds, she snapped it shut and smiled at the trio, avoiding looking at Adrien for too long.

"I'll be back. Just going for a drink."

She slid off the stool and wiggled her way to the center of the bar. An easy feat for a cute girl in shorts on a Saturday night. The bartender looked at her expectantly, if somewhat surprised.

"1 rum punch, please. More rum than punch." She smiled at him and he nodded, returning a smirk of his own.

"Something tells me you don't want to remember tonight, if you're asking for extra rum." She heard Luka's voice before he leaned over her shoulder, smelling of lavender and one of Juleka's perfumes that she couldn't name but knew nonetheless. Marinette huffed a laugh and turned he head to meet his gaze.

"I truly don't. For one reason alone." She spoke into his ear and could see the suppressed shiver go through his body.

Marinette logged the reaction away selfishly.

A glass was placed down in front of her and she whipped her head around to the bartender again, reaching for her purse.

"I got it." Luka handed over the bill before she had the chance to snap open her bag. He took the drink and stepped back, offering a hand to her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, the bass of the music thudding in her chest, even as a smirk played on her lips.

Luka's eyes didn't leave her as he took a sip from the drink, tonge and lips curling over the straw in a way that made Marinette flush and tingle all over.

She took his hand and she let him guide them back to Alya and Adrien.

At the sight of him, Marinette felt the bile rise in her throat and she stumbled, forcing Luka to whip his head around and stop walking.

She could do this, she could sit at the table and talk, she could smile and laugh with them all, with him, because she didn't hate him. She didn't resent him. She didn't, she couldn't.

She cared too much about him.

But tonight, for some reason, she couldn't bear to look at him.

She opened her mouth to speak, to stop Luka from walking back, to stop herself from bolting, to stop Alya from looking over, but the words dissolved in ber throat.

She couldn't.

Not tonight.

Marinette blinked and then her vision was blocked by a glass of peachy coloured liquid held in black polished fingers. She looked up from the hand and Luka's lips were pulled to a side, a tiny knowing smirk.

She closed her mouth around the thin straw and met Luka's eyes. They widened only slightly. Marinette logged away that reaction as well.

He jerked his chin behind her, to the carpark outside the bar.

Distance was what she needed.

She turned, not letting go of his hand as they wove through the small crowd. They exited the bar and as the music faded away, Marinette felt her ears adjust and her body cool in the quiet night air.

They walked aimlessly to the other end of the car park, towards a bench half hidden under the shade of a large tree. Luka sat and tugged on her hand. She looked at him and then at his lap and then at his face again. His expression was the same, open half smirk. She was free to choose where to sit and he wouldn't judge her for it.

Marinette remembered the shiver and sat slowly in his lap. He released her hand, only to settle his own on her back.

He was letting her lead the way.

She alwys knew he was a gentleman. And he would never pressure anyone into anything, especially not her.

She let herself lean onto his shoulder, her nose just below his pulse. The hand on her back began moving in large, soothing circles.

She sighed into the action, closing her eyes.

Flashes of golden hair and green eyes made her snap open her eyes and the tiniest of growls escaped her throat. Luka wordlessly moved the drink towards her mouth and she took another two gulps, relishing the burn in her chest.

"Never knew you were one to growl." Luka's voice was quiet and deep and soothing in all the right ways. And Marinette let herself enjoy it, even as she snorted at his teasing.

He lifted the glass to his own mouth and took a swig, ignoring the straw.

The glass had enough for one more person and he offered it to her. Marinette took it and knocked it back.

She caught his mild surprise in her periphery and drank that in too.

She set the glass down a safe distance on the bench and turned her face to Luka. He was the picture of relaxation, even with her in his lap.

She was in his lap.

Marinette let the buzz in her bones guide her to back the bar completely and plant a thigh on either side of his hips. Luka's face showed more than mild surprise, even as his hands instictively settled on her hips. They were warm, almost as warm as her chest in the aftermath of the drink.

"Luka." She didn't mean to breathe his name like that.

"Yes, Marinette?" Her name sounded far more sinful than it should've rolling off his tongue.

"I am telling you now that I am not drunk, or tipsy." She began, her hands splayed on his chest and sliding slowly upwards.

"Mhm." His response rumbled beneath her fingers and she felt something in her clench.

"And that I do want to remember this in the morning." She continued, fingers skimming his collarbones and brushing at his throat.

Another rumbling response and Marinette felt herself leaning into the heat of him.

"And I am telling you, right now, that I really want you to kiss me." Her voice was barely a whisper but she knew he heard her because he slotted his mouth against hers as soon as her hand had tangled in the hair at nape of his neck.

Kissing Luka wasn't explosive or worldshattering. Rather, it was slow, meaningful, sensual. His thumbs brushed very lightly against her bare waist under her shirt and she shuddered.

He moaned, a soft, breathy thing against her lips and she tugged lightly on his hair in response.

That released a far louder, far deeper noise in his chest and Marinette drank it in. His tongue poked at her lips gently, and she obliged him.

What she didn't expect was the small stud on it as it touched the roof of her mouth and Marinette heard herself whine. His hips shifted up into hers and her hand went white knuckled on his shoulder. Her chest was pressed against his and his heart thudded against hers as she pulled away. He chased her lips with soft kisses, clearly not wanting to be done but respectful of her retreat.

She rested her forehead against his and breathed. He had his eyes closed and his hands had settled on her hips once again, outside of her shirt as they had been first. They stayed like that for a short while, breathing in each other's scent and commiting the taste of the other to memory.

"You are not a rebound. You are not a replacement. You are not a place holder. I don't exactly know what you are but you are none of those." Marinette kept her eyes closed and let her hands rest on his jaw.

"I want to be with you. I want to try with you. But I do not want to hurt you." She felt tears prick behind her eyelids and she willed them away to protect her eyeliner.

"Thank you for being honest." Luka whispered and placed the softest of kisses to her lips.

"You set the pace. I will follow your lead. I am here for you, in whatever capacity you want me to be." He spoke against her lips and she leaned back to peer into his eyes. He was smiling that easy smile she loved.

She returned the smile and leaned back in for a kiss.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #very short story #excerpt from a story i'll never finish

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motelgirl · 3 years ago

Text

Nothing to Lose- Aldo Raine x Fem!Reader

Request: @inglourious-imagines

Prompts 11, 33, 40 of @inglourious-imagines list :)

I didn’t really know whether to do something angsty or not for this, but i’m not a huge fan of writing angst myself so I decided against it. Sorry it took so long but i’m finally back on it and will be posting regularly again soon. Hope you enjoy it <3 Sorry it’s so short by the way.

Y/n Y/l/n and Aldo Raine. Back in Tennessee, the two had been inseparable ever since they where children. If you saw one, you knew the other wasn’t far behind. They joined the army together, however what they didn’t know is that they would have been deployed in completely separate countries. That’s why when the news got through to Y/n that she was required for Lieutenant Raine’s group, she was more than ecstatic.

Y/n trudged through the rainy night in Paris. She had been dropped in the city just half an hour before and told the name of the hotel she was to rendezvous with the party. Now she was miserable, tired and hopelessly lost. Just when she was about to give in and continue her mission in the morning, she saw a wooden sign with the name of the hotel illuminated by a gas lamp in the distance. She grinned to herself, walking speedily towards it.

The door opened, ringing a bell above. A bald man of around forty looked up from the bar, his eyes following the girl as she smiled at him and greeted him with a simple ‘bonjour’ to which he returned, before she walked up the stairs on the hunt for room three. It wasn’t hard to find it as she heard the all too familiar voice from behind the wooden door.

“She’ll be here in a second, it’s dark out there maybe she lost her bearings,”

Y/n decided this was her cue and pushed on the unlocked door. Immediately, her eyes went towards the only two men awake, sat at the table in the middle of the room. She couldn’t conceal the huge smile on her face at the sight of her old friend. On instinct, she pulled the now standing man into a hug. He let out a light ‘oof’ noise at the unexpected contact, before smiling, rubbing the girls back. They pulled apart and Aldo looked towards the other man in the room, his hand now draped over Y/n’s shoulder.

“Y/n, this is Donny Donowitz, you might know him better as the Bear Jew. Donny, this is Y/n Y/l/n, one of the greatest fighters the Basterds will have. Guaranteed.”

The girl threw Donny one of her charming grins as he stood up and shook her hand. His eyes darted between Aldo and Y/n, before they landed on his arm on her shoulder.

“Y/n Y/l/n! The girl i’ve heard so much about. You know, ever since we met, Aldo hasn’t stopped talking about you,” he smirked, sitting back down in his seat. Y/n followed, placing herself in the spare chair around the table as Aldo sat where he previously was.

“Oh really?” She laughed quietly, trying to keep her voice down as she noticed the rest of the men around her and in the other room sleeping.

“Says you’re the best girl he ever known. I’ve never seen him even lay eyes on another girl before,” Donny continued. Judging by the empty bottle on the table, Y/n could tell Donny had a bit to drink beforehand and maybe she should take this information with a pinch of salt. However when her eyes met Aldo’s, who was glaring daggers into Donny, she realised maybe it was true.

“Anyway, we got a mission tomorrow night, but I’m sure you’ve been told. Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m off to bed,” Donny smiled at the girl who returned a slightly amused one back before watching him leave the room. She was left sat at the table with her old friend.

Standing up without a word, she slowly made her way to the balcony on the side of the building, closely followed by Aldo, who’s eyes hadn’t left her since she entered the room. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and offered it to Aldo, who accepted. The pair stood in silence on the balcony.

“I’ve missed you, you know. Life just wasn’t the same without having you around to annoy the shit out of me, I gotta say,” Aldo broke the silence. Hearing this, Y/n let out that angelic laugh that he had spent years imagining, trying to recreate in his head. Nothing compared to the real thing.

“So,” she paused, thinking of the right words to say, “what did Donny mean?” Her eyes looked at his with innocent curiosity. He watched as she flicked her cigarette butt over the side of the balcony.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. ‘The best girl he ever known’” She quoted the man. He looked at her unimpressed as she sat on the chair perched on the corner of the balcony, crossing her legs and leaning her head on her hand. “Is he lying?”

For just a moment, when he looked at her, he felt all his defences go down. He felt the way he did about her before the war, when they where still living the simple life in Tennessee. Bootlegging moonshine, running from the law and laughing their asses off most of the time. Back then, the two moved into their own tiny house in the smoky mountains when Y/n ran away from her house at seventeen. Being deployed in different countries for god knows how long may have hurt Y/n, but she didn’t know it hurt Aldo ten times more.

“Donny ain’t a liar.” The simple sentence caused a cheeky grin to make its way onto Y/n’s face. “Oh God, why you looking at me like that. I ain’t seen that smile for years,” he joked, however seeing her after all these years made him feel a way that, in the most cliche way possible, he had never felt when she wasn’t around.

“I’m never letting go of the fact you think i’m the best girl you’ve ever known,” she continued to grin up at the man. He shook his head, turning back away from her and looking out at the Parisian skyline.

“Do you ever shut up?” Y/n couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the smile as he said these words. She waltzed over to him and leaned beside him on the balcony, taking a deep breath and letting out a louder sigh than she was meant to.

“You’d hate it if I shut up I just know it,” she continued to grin at him. Her eyes tried to make contact with his but he continued to look out towards the city.

“No I wouldn’t,” he retorted. The pair where reunited, for that one half an hour slot, they felt like they did before. Unworried, bouncing off each other, joking and making fun of each other and always an underlying feeling that something was going unsaid. She was so desperate to find out what it was.

“Are you trying to start a fight or are you flirting, because to be honest I known you for all my life and I still can’t differentiate the two,” she tried her chances. She hoped deep down that he would choose the second option.

“Well let’s put it this way, I wouldn’t ever wanna start a fight with you,” he found his way around saying it directly, but truth be told he loved the girl and she loved him back. Donny could tell the moment she walked in and he was sure that the rest of the men would feel it in the morning. There was a brief silence as Y/n figured out what he meant. For what felt like the thousandth time that night, she felt that smile grow on her face.

“Well if Donny never lies. Does that mean you actually haven’t laid eyes on a girl?” She was now in extremely close proximity of the man. He didn’t need to reply for her to find out everything she needed to know. “Well, what will you do now I’m here?” Y/n needed answers to her questions, and the best way to get them was to ask directly and straight to the point. In her logic, she’d probably end up dead before the end of the war anyway so what did she have left to lose.

No words exchanged, Aldo took her face into his palms and kissed her. Softly at first, pulling apart only momentarily before she pulled him straight back in, now kissing his harder like it would be her last one ever. She had waited all her life for this moment and now it was finally here she could never let go. I’m a matter of seconds, she went from having nothing to lose to having absolutely everything.

#aldo raine x reader #inglorious basterds #aldo the apache x reader #aldo x reader #aldo raine x fem!reader #aldo raine #inglorious basterds imagines

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

So my finger is actually broken and it made me think about the series where Remus took a stick to the face and Sirius took care of him if you’re willing to do another part to that so I can live vicariously that’d be great

Hey lovely! I’m so sorry for the massive delay on this fic--hopefully, your finger feels better soon <3 Coops and O’Knutzy credit goes to @lumosinlove!

This fic also includes Cap and Logan being brothers, O’Knutzy fluff, and my personal favorite ask of all time:

Anon: We have seen protective Leo in action and he is an absolute badass, but what about the other 2/3 of O’Knutzy. Because gods know they would all protect their fairy gay mother if anyone were to mess with him in the slightest

TW for bruising, swelling, injury

Read the rest of the series here!

“Where is he?” Leo demanded as soon as the door opened. His mother would have been appalled by his lack of manners, but he was too worried to bother with pleasantries. “Is he alright?”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Hello to you, too, Knut. Harzy, Lo, how’s it going?”

“Depends,” Finn said. “How’s our favorite rookie doing?”

Logan took a more direct approach and kicked Sirius lightly on the shin. “Move, I want to see my future beau-frère.”

“Are they here?” a rough voice called from the living room.

“Don’t get up, Loops!” Leo shouted down the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Are you feeling okay?”

There was a muffled curse from the other room, followed by footsteps; Leo scowled. “I’m not made of glass,” Remus huffed as he shuffled into the room with an ice pack in his hand.

All three of them hissed in sympathy and Leo felt phantom pain in his nose at the wide bruise across Remus’ cheekbones. “You should go lay down again, dude.”

“You made me soup?”

“You can only have it if you promise to rest.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

“Your face looks like someone biked over it.”

“Rude. I’ll call your mother.”

“You don’t have her number.”

Remus shot him a look and turned to the others, who were watching in clear amusement. “Tremzy, a hand?”

“Can’t tell you. I want soup.” Logan ruffled his hair as he walked past; Remus batted him away, but he was smiling. It was even more crooked than usual with the latent swelling, and Leo felt a pang in his chest when he noticed the missing dimples. He looked so…not Loops. “Où sont les casseroles?”

Finn frowned and glanced in the Tupperware. “That’s not casserole, Lo.”

Sirius reached up and pulled a large pot down from the cupboard. “Pots, Harz. You’ve been dating these two for almost a year and you still don’t know French?”

Finn hopped up on the counter. “Keeps things interesting.”

Leo blew him a kiss and received a wink in return, making them both laugh. “Thanks again for bringing this over,” Remus said as Leo turned the stove on and grabbed a wooden spoon.

“Anything for the rookie, right? You look better than last night.”

“Yeah?” Hope lit in Remus’ less-swollen eye; he was still bruised to hell and back, but the puffiness had gone own significantly and a good night’s sleep seemed to have done him good.

“No thanks to the captain,” Finn snorted, swinging his legs until Sirius whacked him on the thigh with a spoon. “I swear to god he was just fucking with us in the groupchat.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “What did you do?”

“I told the truth!” Sirius protested. “I don’t know why they’re all pissy.”

“You were so vague,” Logan groaned. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through the texts, then cleared his throat. “Home safe. Re is fine—"

“Get over here—”

“—getting lots of cuddles from Hattie,” Logan continued, ducking out of Sirius’ reach as he read aloud. Leo stepped closer to the stove to let them both run past. “Thanks for the messages. Thanks for the messages? Thanks for the fucking messages?”

“That was pretty vague,” Remus agreed, hiding a smile behind his hand when Sirius finally snatched Logan’s phone away.

“I’m keeping this,” he threatened. “And I sent messages to people who reached out individually with questions, including your boyfriend.”

“Which one?” Logan asked with a smirk.

Sirius shook his head. “Knutty, will you be offended if I kick him out of the house?”

“Eh.” Leo shrugged, still stirring. “He could use some fresh air. Maybe put a bowl of water out with him.”

Logan grabbed a towel and rolled it up, snapping it at Leo’s ass; it connected with a sharp smack and he dodged the second attack by less than an inch. “Hey, cut it out!” Remus laughed. “He’s making me soup!”

“Yeah, Lo, we don’t want to leave the invalid in the hands of Cap’s cooking,” Finn drawled.

Sirius heaved a sigh. “You are all so mean to me.”

“I love you!” Remus said, putting a hand over his heart in mock-offense.

“You don’t trust my cooking either.”

He hesitated for half a second and Sirius spread his hands. “I trust most of your cooking. And all of your baking.”

Leo perked up. “Will you make cookies for us?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he wheedled as bubbles began forming around the edges of the soup. “You know you want to.”

“He made some for the block party two weeks ago,” Remus said with a grin, leaning over to smell the thick steam. “I’m domesticating him.”

“He’s like a feral cat. Once you let him in and feed him, he starts making cookies and never leaves.” Logan slotted himself between Finn’s knees for a cuddle with a devious glance at Sirius.

“I regret knowing you,” Sirius muttered; the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away, and Leo smiled to himself as he pulled a few bowls out of the nearest cabinet. “Soup’s ready?”

“Soup’s ready. Where are we eating?”

“Well, Loops is eating on the couch so he can rest,” Logan said, ignoring Remus’ eye roll.

“I’m fine.” All four of them gave him a skeptical look and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Alright, we’ll eat in the living room and pretend I’m on my deathbed. Jesus Christ.”

Leo gave him a playful nudge as he handed him a bowl. “That’s what friends do, right?”

Remus’ face softened and he bumped him back. “This was really sweet of you, Knutty.”

“What was I supposed to do, leave you here alone with only your fiancé and your dog for company?” He looked behind the kitchen island and paused. “Speaking of, where’s my baby?”

“I’ll get her.” Sirius wandered out of the room and they heard the back door open a moment later; after a few seconds of muffled noise, Hattie came barreling into the room in all her long-legged glory. One side of her fur was mussed into bedhead, but Finn dropped down and immediately smoothed it out again as he smothered her with affection.

“Oh, was somebody taking a nap on the deck?” Remus cooed, grabbing a handful of spoons from a drawer.

“I missed you so much!” Finn said, laughing as she licked his face. “So much, precious girl! It’s been too long!”

Hattie wiggled out of his hold and galloped toward Leo—she tripped over her too-big paws and rolled to a stop at his feet with a lolling tongue. “Oh, my munchkin,” he groaned, lifting her into a cradle hold. “Do you think your dads would be sad if I took you home with me?”

“Yes,” Sirius and Remus chorused.

“But I made them soup!” He stuck his lower lip out in a pout and held her closer to his chest. “It’s only fair.”

Logan turned a pleading look on Sirius. “You can’t say no to that face, can you?”

“Someday, you can have a sleepover. For right now, we’re going to eat soup and then make Remus take a nap.”

Leo declined to mention the fact that he had not answered the question and filed that particular information away for later use. For all his bluster and grumbling, Sirius was a softie for puppy eyes of any sort.

They gathered in the living room and carefully balanced their bowls so nobody spilled on the carpet. Remus curled up to make space for Sirius on the couch, while Logan perched on the armrest of Leo’s chair and Finn took the floor; Hattie made the rounds with a roving nose and tried to steal bites wherever possible, to little avail.

“This is really good,” Sirius said after a few minutes of hungry silence, shoving another spoonful of broth in his mouth. “Mon dieu, what is this?”

“Italian wedding soup,” Leo said, breaking a meatball in half. “Mom’s recipe.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not Italian.”

“Not even a little.”

“You guys are the best, by the way,” Remus said. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“We would’ve beat the rookie up if you asked,” Finn informed him with a casual bite of soup. “Say the word, it’s done.”

Remus shook his head. “It was an accident. He tripped, I came up too fast, and it snowballed from there. Kid’s lucky he didn’t get a skate to the face when we fell.”

Logan blinked at him for a second. “You’ve seen your face recently, right?”

“No, actually, it’s a bit difficult to see my own face,” Remus said drily. “I’m sure it looks worse than it feels.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, but made no comment. Leo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know that story or not; seeing Loops in any amount of pain was hard enough. “Kind of ironic, right?” he said instead. “After all that time spent fixing us, you’re the one we get to take care of.”

Remus snorted. “How the turntables. Hestia did all the heavy lifting.”

“That Tupperware was heavy.”

“Do you want to tape me back together next time?”

“Don’t try me, Loops, I’ll do it and give you a moustache.”

They bickered and teased for the next half hour, long after their bowls were empty and Hattie laid down with a dramatic huff after her unsuccessful quest. Finally, Remus dozed off on Sirius’ shoulder, which they took as their cue to leave.

“Thank you again, guys,” Sirius said as they pulled their coats on. “This really meant a lot to both of us.”

“No problem,” Finn said with a shrug. “We were worried, and bringing over a little soup was easy.”

“It was good to talk to you both outside of practice,” Logan added, giving him a one-armed hug. “Keep us updated?”

“Bien sûr.”

“See you around, Capsicle.” Leo mock-saluted and Sirius laughed under his breath. “Take care of our rookie.”

“Will do, Knutty.”

Leo maneuvered his container around his seatbelt as Finn turned the car on, trying not to lose another lid down the crack between the console. “I’m glad we did that,” he said after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Me, too. Loops still looked pretty rough, though,” Logan said quietly.

The side of Finn’s mouth turned down a tick. “Next time we play the Ravens, that rookie is getting checked like he’s never been checked before.”

Leo’s back cracked as he stretched his arms over his head. “Oh, yeah, Kasey and I already have a plan. That kid is never even going to see the net.”

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red1culous · 4 years ago

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Oh part 5

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

After the events of that day wound down a little you made your escape. Much to Pepper’s chagrin. You finally answer her after receiving her 11th text and millionth missed call. In your pyjamas tucked underneath your covers you shoot her a quick apology blaming something frivolous for not being able to stay longer. Of course she forgives you immediately. Which makes you feel even worse for what you did. But you were finding it more and more hard to breathe after your encounter with Natasha.

And so when Pepper orders 2 dozen more cupcakes to be personally delivered to the Tower in a weeks time, claiming it to be for a big board meeting, you couldn’t but say yes to her.

Next week rolls around faster than you would have liked. As the deadline drew closer, your work partner becomes more and more frazzled at the idea of a repeat order from the Avengers.

“Do you think we could get a seal like the ones they put on English jams from the Queen?” she asks excitedly hovering over you as you put on the finishing touches.

“Are you insane?” you laugh shoving her slightly to create some distance between the both of you. “What would it even say, ‘Official Caterers to the Worlds’ Mightiest Heroes’?”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You’re right that’s way too long. We need an acronym.”

You sigh heavily as she continues wearing a hole in the flooring. “What about OSTLER?”

“What does that even mean?” you scrunch up your face trying to focus on your task.

“Official catererS The worLds’ mightiEst heRoes!” she exclaims as if it was obvious.

“I don’t think that would—“ you try before she cuts you off.

“ARTHRITIS? cAtereRs To tHe woRlds’ mIghTIest heroeS?” she spurts out almost tripping over her own words.

“No that won’t—“

“Ok then what about FLATTISH? ” oFficiaL cAterers To The mIghtieSt Heroes. Good right?!” she says her enthusiasm off the charts.

“You know what,” you say shaking your head as you carefully pack the cupcakes into its boxes, “how about you think of something and let me know when I get back.”

“Deal!” she squeals.

“Now please help me load up the truck or I’m going to be late!”

xxx

You stumble on the highly polished marble floors of the Avengers tower as you strain trying to balance 3 boxes of cupcakes and your sling bag dangerously close to falling off your right shoulder. “Hi,” you manage to huff the burly man sitting at the front desk, “I have a delivery of cupcakes from—“

“Ah Ms. Y/N? I was told to give you this and send you up immediately” he says slotting a keycard in between your fingers and walking you through the security body scanners. “Ms. Potts said you know your way around?” he adds as he waits for you to manoeuvre through the smallish space trying not to crush the boxes you held a little tighter to your body.

“Yes I do but—“ you try.

“Splendid well have a good day” he cuts you off again as he leaves you to wait by the elevator. You sigh as you take a breath to calm yourself. Emily hadn’t stopped chatting your ear off causing you to run 10 minutes late. You hated being late. In fact, being on time was considered late to you. Trying to peer at the watch on your wrist was pointless as you when you did try, you almost dropped the boxes you were carrying. You peered at yourself in the mirror reflection of the elevator doors and wondered if everything in this building was polished to perfection. Scrunching up your nose at your less than perfect appearance you try and blow some hair that had fallen onto your face away. And what’s worse, you started to feel an itch on the tip of your nose.

Oh for Christ’s sake.

You try and rub your nose against your shoulder but the movement causes you to almost drop your boxes. Then you tried to relieve the itch by rubbing it against the boxes but that seemed to make it worse.

DING.

Freaking finally you think to yourself. Shimmying in sideways you notice someone already inside the space. “Sorry,” you apologise watching your feet so you don’t trip over anything, “wide load” you chuckle nervously.

“It’s fine” the stranger says and your eyes widen momentarily before you slowly turn so you can face her.

“Oh!” you curse your luck. “Natasha.”

“Hi” she says softly giving you the smallest of smiles. You notice her backing up into the corner as her eyes move from yours to her feet. She doesn’t look up. She looks so small there with her arms wrapped around herself as if she was trying to disappear. All of the sudden you’re overcome with sadness. Why would she need to hide away. From you. Was she hiding from you?

You can’t help yourself. “Hey Nat” the words slip out before you can stop yourself.

She looks up hesitantly. “Yeah?” her voice is soft. Cautious.

“Umm…” your brain is moving as the speed of light trying to come up with something. “Sorry” you wiggle your nose, “my nose is…is itchy. Would you mind?” you groan internally at hearing yourself.

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she takes a half step towards you. “Here?” she rubs her index finger on the tip of your nose.

You weren’t trying anything. Your nose was truly itchy and had it not been for Natasha you might’ve sneezed and dropped everything. “Mmm thanks” you say as the itch subsides. Natasha looks up at you and smiles. It’s then you notice her red swollen eyelids and the puffiness under them.

“Are you ok?” you say instinctively.

“I’ve…I’m ok” she says taking a step back and casting her eyes downwards again.

“Can you help me with these?” you add not giving her a choice as you bend your knees slightly to slide a box into her hands. You can tell she wasn’t expecting that as she looks at you briefly with surprise in her eyes.

“Sorry it’s just I’ve been holding onto these for close to 40 mins now and I can’t feel my hands anymore” you say trying to lighten the mood.

She gives you yet another timid smile. “It’s no worry” she says just before casting her eyes back down to the floor. Just before she does you watch as the overhead lights catch the puddles in her green eyes and the guilt that overcomes you feels like someone has just slapped you across the face with a hot iron. You turn your face forwards and pretend to not notice her wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

DING.

The elevator doors open and you’re greeted by a very smiley Pepper Potts. “Y/N!” she beams, “oh Natasha I thought you were headed to that meeting downtown” she says stepping aside and walking the two of you to the conference room.

“I…uh…no, I mean it was postponed” she stutters a little.

“I’m so sorry,” you turn to face her after placing the boxes onto the conference table, “if I had known I wouldn’t have imposed on you.”

“No no” she says, “it wasn’t an imposition at all, Y/N” the way she says your name is laced with regret and hurt its almost tangible.

Pepper signs for someone to come and deal with the boxes as she fishes out a cheque which she expertly folds and slides into the breast pocket of your jacket.

“I should go” Natasha mumbles softly and immediately turns around walking out of the conference room leaving you to just stare at her go.

You turn back to Pepper and she’s smiling sympathetically at you. “Why do I feel like I just killed a puppy?” you say fishing the cheque out of your pocket. Your eyes grow large as saucepans, “Pep this is way too much” you exclaim.

She laughs at you as she wraps her arms around you. You hug back. “You feel like that because you still care about her” she says stroking your back. “And shush it’s not too much.”

“Pepper you overpaid me by 200%!” you pull away slightly holding her at arms length.

“Can you just…” she picks the cheque from your hands and refolds it placing it back into your pocket, “…accept the good things that come to you without making such a fuss.”

You pout and she pulls you back into another hug. This one tighter than the one before. And you hug back squeezing your eyes shut because you know exactly what she’s talking about.

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb @natasharomanoffismywife @imnotasuperhero @cybeleceto @silverwing2522 @thelastavenger-3000 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @blackwidowromonoff @lesbian-x-blackwidow @nowthisisliving27 @izalesbean @aaron-despair @marvelfansince08love @rileigh519 @wannabe-fic-reader @hcartbyheart @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin @username23345 @xixxiixx @rebeliz777 @summergeezburr @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova @sapphicluxanna @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader #black widow #redfic #oh

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wayward-dreamer · 4 years ago

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Life’s Lessons - Part 12

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Doing Things Right

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 7,392 (texts, thoughts and song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: Dean and Y/N go on their first official date. The night has to come to a close early, but not before Y/N gives Dean something to hold him over until they can be together again. A busy week keeps them separated, but a little rendezvous at the school between breaks in parent/teacher conference helps deal with not being able to see each other.

Warnings: Brief mentions of insecurities. Other than that, Fluff... like so much fluff. Dean being sweet AF (yes, that’s a warning). And SO MUCH SMUT. Dry humping, Semi-public, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), Biting, Dirty talk, Swearing.

Music: Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin (not featured within the chapter, but listen to it during the Dean and Y/N school scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and loving this series! It honestly means so much to me to see how much you guys have been enjoying it! Seriously, thank you so much! Only 3 chapters and an epilogue after this. I can't believe how time has suddenly flown by and we’re nearly there! I can’t wait for you guys to see what else is going to happen as we come closer to the end. Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Before Y/N knew it, it was the next day and the day of her first date with Dean that night. Being the gentleman that he was, he left after they watched TV for a while the night before, to go sleep in his own bed. He had left regretfully, leaving her with a kiss she could still feel even as she went to bed. The sexual chemistry between them was tangible, and she wanted to almost skip the date and pull him into her bed to see what that chemistry could do. However, Dean seemed to really want to take her out and she would never refuse him.

Though it did beg the question… did they need to be going out on dates? In her heart she already knew how she felt for him. This wasn’t dating for her; this was much more. She had an inkling that he may have felt the same, considering he told her that she was it for him. Maybe some would say it was too soon to be feeling that this was what she wanted and nothing else, but she couldn’t help it. That’s how she felt. She knew he was the one since the moment they met, even if he was with someone else at the time. Everything had worked out the way it had for a reason. She was never one to believe in soulmates and people that were destined to be together, but she knew she was meant to be with Dean.

She was really looking forward to that night, but she was going to wait to bring these things up with Dean. She didn’t want to spoil his efforts to make this a special night for them. It was pretty simple, just dinner and a movie, and that’s all she needed.

Y/N was glad she had that Friday off before she went back to school on Monday and took it as an opportunity to see the girls. It was a rare occasion that Meg didn’t have a shift on a Friday, and so they took the opportunity to see each other and catch up.

They had come over and had sandwiches and soup for lunch, and they all caught up about everything they had missed in each other’s lives over the holidays. She told them about her family and how she had so much fun seeing them again, and about the present Dean had gotten her, showing them. Charlie had already seen it, obviously, but she was still happy for her friend, nonetheless.

“Please thank Dorothy as well, I know she must’ve had to pull a few strings for Dean” Y/N said, looking over at Charlie.

“It was no hassle, really. She just called in some favors that she was owed” Charlie shrugged.

There was a short pause in the conversation before Meg spoke up.

“So, Dean looked pretty happy by the time midnight rolled around for us” she started, putting her spoon down as she finished eating. “Did you have something to do with that?”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep the smile off her face, but failing. “Maybe.”

“I knew it. He looked way too happy when he came out of the room after talking to you” Meg grinned. “So… did you do something dirty?”

“Meg” Y/N laughed, slightly embarrassed. Charlie chuckled but made no move to stop Meg.

“Well?” Meg wondered, raising an eyebrow.

“We… may have” Y/N said, shrugging. Meg looked at her, knowingly. She knew she couldn’t keep a secret very well and they would get it out of her eventually. “Okay, fine. We had phone sex.”

Meg suddenly cheered as Charlie groaned, taking out a couple of bills from her pocket and handing them over.

“You guys bet on this?” Y/N asked, shocked.

“Meg made a bet that you and Dean had phone sex” Charlie frowned, as she watched Meg pocket the money.

“Wow” Y/N said, shaking her head. Though she wasn’t surprised by her friend doing that.

“So… how was it?” Meg asked, grinning.

“It was… intense. I’ve never done that with a guy before… but it was really hot” Y/N laughed, slightly as she described that night to her friends. “Now, I just want to be with him properly.”

“It’ll happen” Charlie said, smiling reassuringly.

“He asked me out” Y/N said, smiling. “He’s taking me to dinner and a movie tonight.”

Both Charlie and Meg looked at her, wide eyed. “Uh, excuse me… why didn’t you open with that?!” Meg asked, shaking her head.

“I meant to, sorry” Y/N chuckled softly.

“Oh my god, you’re going on your first date with Dean!” Charlie clapped her hands, giddily.

Y/N laughed at her, shaking her head. She sobered as she thought about what her friend just said. “It doesn’t feel like a first date though. I mean, we spend so much time together, we’ve been having dinner together almost every night since I ended things with Mark. It’s all felt like we’re dating… so is this really the first date?”

Charlie nodded, understanding what she meant. “Well, it’s more of an official date. You and Dean are pretty much together anyway, he clearly just wants to do it the right way.”

“I guess you’re right” Y/N nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to jump his bones.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you look so irresistible tonight, he can’t possibly think of anything else” Meg smiled, wagging her eyebrows.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” Y/N asked.

“Hey, Charlie said it, you guys are pretty much a couple anyway. It’s gonna happen sooner or later” Meg shrugged, as she got up and carried her plate over to the sink.

The girls helped Y/N pick out what to wear for her date with Dean. Something that was appropriate for the type of date it was and sexy at the same time. She settled on a black dress and her black over-knee heeled boots, and her long fawn coat. As it got closer to the time for their date, Y/N got ready. She did her make-up and hair, putting a slight wave through it and settling it over one shoulder. The girls left once they gave her a look of approval and wished her luck. Y/N promised to call them and tell them how it went.

“1… 2… 3”

Dean counted down as he lifted the frame from one side, Benny on the other. They slotted the hooks on the wall into the grooves on the frame. Dean stepped down from the ladder to see if it was properly aligned and even, smirking when it looked perfect. Benny stepped down from his ladder, standing next to Dean and admiring the framed black and white photo of the Impala, that Y/N had given him for Christmas.

They had been at the new building all day along with Ellen, all three of them fixing the place up before all the new equipment and machinery came in the following week. Ellen had fixed up the reception area and some parts of the garage with Benny, while Dean fixed up the office and some of the workstations. Some of the other workers would be in over the weekend to take care of other duties as well. It had been a tiring day, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him from thinking about Y/N and their date that night.

To others, it might’ve seemed a little redundant to take her out on a date when they were practically a couple already, but it wasn’t to him. He wanted to show her what she meant to him and treat her special. He wanted to do things right this time. He had taken Lisa out on dates but there wasn’t all that much effort put into them, most of the time ending up at the diner or the bar. Things were different with Y/N. She wasn’t just any girl, she was… well, he was in love with her. He needed her to know that, even if he couldn’t say it just yet.

A bump on his shoulder alerted him that Benny was still there, a slightly amused expression on his face to see his friend spaced out for whatever reason.

“You okay there, brother?” he asked.

“Yeah” Dean nodded, picking up the ladder and walking out of the office to put it back in the corner of the garage. Benny followed behind him, doing the same.

“You spacing out wouldn’t have something to do with a little lady by the name of Y/N, would it?” Benny grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s none of your damn business, Lafitte.”

Benny chuckled to himself as he followed behind Dean, back into the office. “Things getting anywhere with you two, yet?”

“Yeah” Dean said, not wanting to say too much just yet.

“You gotta give me a little more than that, chief” Benny shrugged, not budging on the topic.

“Well, considering you won’t drop it… yes. I’m taking her out tonight” Dean told him as he looked down at some papers on his desk, sorting through them.

“Nice” Benny said, clapping him on the back. “Now, why ain’t ya shouting that from the rooftops, man?” the Southerner asked, confused that Dean was being so secretive.

“Because…” Dean trailed off, as he looked at his Southern friend, dropping the papers on the desk. “I just wanna be cautious. That’s all.”

Dean didn’t want to jinx anything by making too much of it. He had gained a whole lot of luck by her coming into his life. He didn’t want to start losing it.

Benny nodded, understanding. “I get it, brother. I do.” Benny tapped him gently on the back again, a soft smile on his face. “I’m happy for ya, Dean. ‘Bout time you got a good woman.”

Dean smiled, his mind instantly on Y/N as he nodded. “Thanks, Benny.”

Dean fixed up his desk a little before he glanced up at the clock, seeing that it was time for him to leave, go home and get ready for his date with Y/N. He said a quick bye to Ellen and Benny, who were just fixing up a few things before they were due to leave as well. Dean pulled out of the parking lot to the new building, flooring his beloved Baby as he headed home.

When Y/N heard the doorbell ring a few times, she smiled as she walked out of her room and down the hallway. She opened the door and smiled even wider as she saw Dean, looking incredible in his black jacket and dark blue jeans, a black sweater underneath and a black scarf around his neck. He hadn’t shaved and she was glad for it, loving a little scruff on him. Dean looked her up and down, smirking. She looked so good as she leaned against the door, her dress and boots making her look irresistible.

“You look… you look amazing” he told her, still smirking.

“You look pretty amazing yourself, handsome” she said, leaning into him as she kissed him.

“Ready to go?” he asked before kissing her again.

She moved back and picked up her bag, smiling at him. “Ready.”

She locked up her house and followed him over to the Impala, smiling as he turned on his music and drove them into the main town square.

They got to the restaurant in time, Dean giving them his name and being led to the back where it was slightly quieter, to a table for two. They sat down across from each other and Y/N smiled as she looked around the room. It was a quaint place, exposed brick walls with black and white photos of Lawrence and of Kansas City landmarks. Each table had a candle in a glass holder, bathing the room in a warm glow. As they had walked through, they had passed the kitchen, and her mouth had watered at the aromas wafting through.

“I love this place” she said, smiling at him as they settled in.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome” Dean smiled, looking around. “Food’s insane, too.”

They gave the waiter their drink orders, telling him they’d need a few more minutes to decide what to eat. When he came back with their drinks, a whiskey for Dean and a glass of white wine for Y/N, they decided on what they were getting. The waiter took their orders and then they were finally alone.

“So…” she said, trailing off as she flashed him a smile.

He smirked, leaning forward and folding his arms on the table. “So…”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I’m so happy we’re doing this.”

“Me too” he nodded, as he continued to look at her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re wondering why, though.”

“I kind of was.” Y/N pursed her lips, nodding. “Can I say something, and you promise not to overthink it?” she asked, hoping he’d be fine with the question she wanted to ask.

“Sure” he shrugged, not seeing a problem just yet.

“I’m so happy you asked me out on a date” she started, reaching over the table and holding his wrist. “I just think… maybe we don’t need to? I mean, I know how I feel about you. It’s way past the dating stage and it’s scary to think of that way, but it’s true-” she rambled, and Dean cut her off with a small chuckle, as he took her hand off his wrist and clasped his with hers.

“I know we don’t need to, because I… I know I feel about you, too” he said, as his thumb ran over her knuckles. “I just wanna do the right thing here, Y/N. I have to do things right this time. I took Lisa out on dates, yeah, but they weren’t much to write home about, you know? I want things to be different with you.”

She smiled, genuinely touched by what he said. “That’s very sweet.”

“Well, I’m a sweet guy, what can I say?” he grinned, his cocky attitude on full display.

She rolled her eyes as she laughed. “How humble of you.”

“And hey, what kind of a boyfriend doesn’t take his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend out on a date? Come on” he said, feigning anger but a smile came through as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“That’s true” she said, giddy from the sweet gesture.

“And we gotta have some stories to tell our kids someday” he said, as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

She stared at him, wide-eyed. He clearly hadn’t realized what he just let slip.

“Kids, huh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She bit back a laugh as she saw his eyes bulge out of his sockets.

“I-I um…” he stuttered a little, as he tried to find the words to erase what he just said. When he looked at her and saw her smiling at him, with some new look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place, he knew he didn’t need to hide away what he just said. “Yeah. Kids.”

She picked up her glass and took a sip of her wine, smiling around the edge of it. When she put it down and looked at him, she took his hand again. “Just know that I don’t need more than just you to know how you feel, but I’m glad for this date and any others all the same. And I can’t wait to tell our kids about them someday.”

If his friends could see him now, they’d rip him a new one for the full-blown chick-flick moment he was having. He didn’t care, though. He had the most amazing woman, and he was lucky to have her in his life.

He would never stop thanking whatever higher power existed for her coming here to Lawrence.

After dinner, they walked over to the cinema complex and bought tickets to an action movie. Y/N adored him for trying to say that they should go see a rom-com for her, but she told him that just because she was a girl, it didn’t mean that she liked all of the rom-coms out there. She had a feeling he was very relieved that she had insisted on the action movie. Dean bought them a large popcorn and drink combo to share, and they sat in the back row.

They munched on the popcorn as the movie played out as every other action film did. However, during one particularly steamy scene between the male and female protagonists, Y/N felt her body heating up. She crossed her legs uncomfortably, feeling hot as she sat next to Dean while the actors on screen were all over each other. She glanced over at Dean, seeing him shift slightly in his seat. Flashes of the night in her hotel room on New Year’s entered her mind, remembering how Dean had brought her so much pleasure just from his words.

At the same time, Dean was thinking about the same night, too. About how hot she sounded, about how he wanted to hear her say his name like she had that night, over and over again. You couldn’t cut the sexual tension in that cinema with a knife, as the rest of the movie carried out. They had both never been so relieved when it was finally over.

The drive back home had been silent, except for the music softly playing from the car’s radio. However, Y/N smiled to herself as she felt Dean’s hand slip into hers on the seat, in between them. He held it tightly and squeezed, lifting it as he turned his head and planted a kiss on her knuckles. When they arrived home, Dean parked the car and got out, taking her hand in his again when she got out as well. They walked across the street to her house, hand-in-hand, content to just be together. Finally.

Y/N walked up the porch stairs and to her front door, turning around and smiling up at him. She leaned up, her heeled boots giving a little more advantage to reach him better, planting a searing kiss on his perfect lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in deeper as his wrapped around her waist, inside her coat. She pressed back against the door as they continued their kiss, neither of them making a move to stop. Y/N pulled away and nipped along Dean’s stubbled jaw, loving the slight sting of his stubble across her lips.

“Y/N, uh, we should stop” he chuckled slightly, pulling an inch away from her to look her in the eyes.

She hummed as she combed her fingers through his hair, causing him to groan at the feel of it. “I think we should move this inside, don’t you?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart and believe me I really want to, but I gotta be up super early to uh… do something” he tried to explain as best as he could, without sounding suspicious. Which he hadn’t succeeded at because she frowned at him.

“Do something?” she asked, confused. “What?”

Dean blinked a few times, trying to think of something. He didn’t want to tell her that he had to go work on the new house, considering he completely envisioned her in that place. He wanted it to be a surprise for their future together.

“I can’t say, not yet at least” he replied, looking sheepish.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him but decided not to push any further. She trusted him and she knew that he’d tell her when he was ready.

“Okay” she nodded, slightly disappointed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her nose.

“It’s fine” she shrugged, trying not to let it get to her. She turned around and faced the door and was about to put the key in the lock when Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, locking her in his embrace. He nuzzled his nose along her jaw, and kissed her cheek, softly.

“I’ll make it up to you, soon. I promise” he smirked, tilting his head to look at her.

Feeling him extremely close to her, his front to her back, gave her a naughty idea which she couldn’t get out of her head now that it was in there.

“I know” she said, turning her head to look at him. “But in the meantime, maybe I can leave you with a little something…”

She emphasized her words with a small tilt of her hips, pushing them back into his. He hummed as he felt her ass against the crotch of his jeans, his cock twitching slightly in his pants.

“Don’t play dirty with me, sweetheart” he growled in her ear. A shiver ran down her as she bit her lip, rubbing into him again. She could feel herself getting wet between her legs.

“Somehow I think you like that” she sighed, as she leaned back and pecked his lips. She took his hands in hers, moving them to hold onto her hips. She slowly began rutting back against him, his groans alerting her to his arousal. She moaned as she felt his cock becoming hard, straining against his jeans.

“Shit, Y/N” he hissed, feeling the pressure in his pants and not being able to do anything about it. He glanced around, hoping that no one would come out of their houses and see them. “Someone could see us.”

She shook her head, not letting him move away. “It’s okay, baby. It’s a quiet street, no one’s going to know.”

Dean thrust his hips forward against hers, growling as he felt his cock press against her ass every time he moved forward. She took his hands and moved them up her body, moving her coat back as she planted them on her breasts. He grunted as she pushed into him a little harder as their hips continued to meet, his covered hard on rubbing against the fabric of her dress over her behind. He could feel that he was about to lose it, as they continued to grind against each other.

“Fuck” he bit out through clenched teeth. He palmed her covered breasts, leaning in to kiss her neck. “Shit, sweetheart, fuck” he huffed as he groaned.

“Dean” she moaned, as she glanced back at him. Seeing her hooded eyes as her perfect mouth hung open from the pleasure that coursed through her, pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck, Y/N” he grunted as he leaned his forehead on her shoulder, shaking as his seed released inside his jeans.

Y/N smiled as she felt him breathing heavily, his chest against her back. She didn’t cum, but that didn’t bother her when it came to Dean. This was about him and just giving him another little preview of things to come for them.

“I feel like a teenage boy.” He shifted uncomfortably, his jeans no doubt stained now.

“You’re fucking full of surprises, sweetheart” he chuckled, as he nuzzled into her neck.

She laughed a little as she turned around, cupping his face in her hands. “You have no idea.”

She leaned in and kissed his lips, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and looked at her, lifting a hand to stroke her Y/H/C hair back as he cupped her face.

“I better go” he whispered as he looked into her Y/E/C eyes. He leaned in, softly kissing her lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I’m done.”

“Okay” she said, smiling at him.

Dean stepped back from Y/N, winking at her before he turned around and walked down the porch stairs. Y/N went into her house, locked the door and practically screamed as she thought about everything that had just happened outside, a few minutes ago. She couldn’t believe she did something like that but as she had already realized, when it came to Dean, she lost all her inhibitions.

As she got ready for bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about how things were already so amazing between the two of them, and they were only going to get better.

Dean cleaned himself up and got dressed into a black shirt and sweats. When he climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling, he smirked as he thought about Y/N. She kept surprising him, and he loved that. Given their age difference he had to keep up with her a little, but she was incredible in every way.

She was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it, but damn it if she wasn’t the most amazing woman he had ever been with.

The next few days were incredibly busy for both Y/N and Dean. He was busy with everything at the new garage, and she was busy with getting back to school and the start of the next semester. They had parent/teacher conference as well, so that added another layer of stress to that week.

The day of the parent/teacher conference was a long day. A day of classes first, and then once the kids left, the teachers set up their classrooms and made them look fancy with all the projects. Y/N had set up the room with different quotes from books and photos of literary figures, some that they had already studied and some that they would in the future. Parents of every form were there; couples still together, couples divorced and co-parenting, single moms, single dads and foster parents.

She was happy that she had this opportunity to meet them, and she was glad that things had become better, with almost all of the kids doing well. Some were at higher levels than others, but everyone was doing as well as they could in terms of their aptitude, and Y/N felt good about that. There were a couple, however, that she knew were going to have trouble in high school if they didn’t turn it around, quickly.

In between sessions, Y/N scrolled through her phone’s social media apps, texted Charlie and Cas down the hallway if they could take a break at the same time as her. After about only 15 minutes of catching up, however, they all had to go back to their next meetings. The hours were ticking by slowly, as she kept herself entertained with a book in between meetings. At another break, she was trying to read but she just couldn’t concentrate. Looking at the time, she realized that it was 6.30pm. Dean would’ve finished work half an hour ago, so she decided to text him.

Y/N: Currently waiting on my next meeting, but I’m so bored. I keep trying to read but I think I’ve read the same line 500 times in the last few minutes.

Dean: Well, I literally just finished work and on my way home!

Y/N: Oh no! What happened?

Dean: Eh, late deliveries that I had to wait around for. Dinner might be late, unless… pizza tonight?

Y/N bit her lip as an idea came to her. Now that he wasn’t making dinner and they could always order pizza a little later, she wanted to see what he thought about her idea.

Y/N: Sounds good, but maybe we can hold off on it for a bit?

Dean: Uh… I guess. Why?

Y/N: Do you think you can come to the school?

Dean: What are you up to, sweetheart?

Y/N: Why don’t you come here and find out? ;)

Dean stared down at his phone, every possibility of what she wanted going through his head. He shook his head. It couldn’t be what he was thinking.

Dean: Do I want to?

Y/N smiled as she shook her head. He clearly didn’t realize she was being serious about him coming to the school.

Y/N: Yes ;)

Dean choked at that message. Was his teacher fantasy about to play out? He almost couldn’t believe it.

Dean: On my way!

Y/N laughed at the gif of a car speeding that he had added.

Y/N: Give me 15 minutes with the next parents, and then I’m all yours, handsome. She added a heart emoji.

Dean couldn’t help but let out a groan when he read that.

Dean: Damn right you are ;)

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body as she bit her lip, reading his message. She had no idea what was going to happen once he got to the school, but damn she was excited to find out. The haze of arousal was broken however, when the next parents came in. They were talkers and the meeting went a little over time, but eventually they were both satisfied with everything Y/N told them. They thanked her and left, leaving her to wonder when Dean was going to get there. She stood up, took off her glasses and shut the lid of her laptop and was just about to message Dean and see where he was, when a light knock on the door interrupted her.

She smiled when she looked up and saw Dean leaning against the doorframe, smirking at her. He walked in and closed the door behind him, locking it, and pulling the blind down over the window in the door.

“I came in when the parents were leaving” he said, as he walked over to her. He gently pulled her towards him by her hand, her body close to his as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She smiled up at him, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck.

“I’m glad you did, but there’s still some people here so we have to be quiet” she told him. Even with her heeled knee-high boots on, she still had to push herself up slightly on the toes, to press her lips to Dean’s. “And… we have to be quick before the next meeting in 20 minutes.”

“Oh really?” he grinned. “What’re you planning on doing to me in 20 minutes?”

She hummed against his lips, her fingers combing through the short hair at the back of his head. “So many things. I’ve barely seen you; you’ve been so busy with the new site and I’ve been busy with everything leading up to tonight.”

He groaned, as one of his hands slipped down slightly, laying over one side of her behind, covered by her grey A-line skirt. “Fuck. I know. I swear, when things calm down slightly and it’s just up to the contractors to get all the heavy machinery into the site in the next few days, I’m taking you out.”

“I look forward to that, but I hope that doesn’t mean we can’t do a few things right now” she whispered against his lips.

“Definitely not” he whispered back, finally claiming her lips in a searing kiss.

If it were even possible, they pulled each other in even tighter, their bodies moulded together as they continued to kiss, passionately. Y/N softly bit Dean’s bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth and deepen the kiss. She moaned into the kiss, feeling his hand press a little harder into her ass. She pushed into his body, causing him to take a few steps back until his back was pressed against the wall. Her arms came away from his neck, her hands roaming over his muscles through his jacket and moving down his chest.

Her hands moved under his maroon button-up and pushed it off along with his jacket, Dean taking over in removing them completely and tossing them on the floor. Her lips moved away from his, kissing and nipping along his jaw, moving down to his neck. He groaned as she nipped at his neck, his hands groping her ass. Her hands moved over the black t-shirt covering his chest, and down to the outside of his jeans, feeling that he was getting hard already. She rubbed her hand along the seam of his jeans, feeling him grow harder. Dean hissed, feeling the pressure of his cock against the fabric of jeans. Suddenly, Dean stopped for a second, looking around. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course,” she said, as she cupped his face. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

He smiled at her, a little sadly. “Should our first time really be like this?”

She smiled at him, her heart bursting with love at his concern. “Dean… I want you. I know you want me, too. I know you keep saying that we should do things right, but what’s right is you and me. Does this feel wrong to you?”

“No” he said, shaking his head, his response quick and firm.

“Then… there’s no problem, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

He groaned as he looked at her doing that. That always made him weak. “Right.”

Y/N smiled at him and went back to what she was doing. She unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops, tossing it behind her. She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down slightly. She pulled down his boxers and gasped as his cock was on full display, hard, as his length and girth made her mouth begin to water. He was bigger than any of the other men she had been with, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. She lightly grasped it, her hand moving slowly along the shaft. She stared into Dean’s eyes and smiled, biting her lip. He let out a shaky breath as he looked at her, his eyes clouded with arousal. Her fingers moved over the tip, feeling pre-cum drip out onto her fingers. She took his cock in both of her hands, pumping them up and down as she moved down to her knees.

Dean groaned as he watched Y/N get on her knees, his cock in her hands. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, her tongue circling the head. She sucked at the head, slowly taking in more of him, inch by inch. Her hand grasped the base of his cock, pumping up and down as she bobbed her head, wetting the shaft with her saliva. She looked up at him as her other hand cupped his balls, massaging them in her hand.

Dean grunted, throwing his head back against the wall, his mouth hanging open. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good at that.” He looked down at her, his thumb stroking her jaw, as her cheeks hollowed while she continued to take him into her mouth. “Love seeing your mouth on my cock.”

She moaned loudly as she drew back and pulled her mouth off him, her hand continuing to move along his dick. “Your cock feels so good in my mouth, Dean. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Dean couldn’t wait for that either. He took her hand off him and tugged, making her stand up. Her mouth felt incredible, but he definitely didn’t want to cum yet.

Y/N let go of Dean’s hand and moved hers under the waistband of her skirt, pulling out the end of her black, full sleeve top. Dean moved her hands away, taking over as he pulled the end of her shirt over her breasts, revealing her dark red bra. He reached up and pulled the cups down, her nipples pebbled and aching against the slight chill in the room. He leaned into her right breast, kissing her flesh, his tongue circling the nub. She grasped his hair in her hands, bringing him in closer.

“Dean” she gasped, as he sucked and nipped at her, moving to her left and doing the same.

Dean bent his knees, grasping the bottom of her skirt and bunching it, revealing her matching panties. His hand moved in, his fingers rubbing along the outside of the fabric, feeling how wet she already was.

“Shit, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did sucking my cock turn you on that much?” he asked, his voice husky as his fingers moved faster along the fabric.

She let out a shaky breath, as she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, slightly.

She nodded, frantically as his hand continued to move. “Dean…”

“What, sweetheart?” he asked, kissing her nipple.

He hooked a finger in her panties and moved them to the side, groaning as he felt her wetness against his fingers. He ran them along her folds, his thumb flicking lightly over her clit.

She moaned, her chest heaving as she breathed deeply. “F-fuck me. Please. Please fuck me.”

Dean moved them backwards, until her ass rested against the edge of her desk. He grasped her thighs and lifted her up, sitting her on top of it.

Dean’s hands moved down along her thigh-high stockings, biting his lip as he felt her soft flesh against his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him for a heated kiss. Her hand cupped his jaw, bringing his mouth tight against hers. They parted when they needed to breath, as she wrapped her boot-covered legs around his hips. Dean lifted his black shirt up and took it off, her hands immediately roaming over his muscular arms and shoulders, his hard but soft torso. She bit her lip, keeping herself from moaning too loudly at the sight of him. He was truly the most gorgeous man she had ever been with. Dean moved closer, as he took hold of his cock, pumping his hand along the shaft a few times.

He stopped, however, when he realized something. “Shit, I don’t have any-” he started but she cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’m on the pill” she nodded as she looked into his eyes. “We’re good.”

He smirked slightly, as he looked at her. “Okay.”

He took hold of cock and guided it to her entrance, pressing the tip in. He moved forward, slowly sinking into her warm cavern. She hummed at the feel of him, her walls stretching to accommodate his size. He gave her a second to adjust, before he slowly started to pull out. He pushed back in, setting a slow rhythm.

“Y/N” he moaned, softly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”

His hips met hers, as he gradually picked up the pace. He thrusted into her at a moderate pace, causing her to moan loudly, forgetting where they were.

He laughed as he pressed his lips to hers. “Shh, sweetheart. Can’t let anyone hear us.”

She whimpered, as she moved her hips against his. “Fuck, Dean.”

Dean growled low, feeling it rumble in his chest. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel fucking amazing wrapped around my cock.”

“Dean” she moaned quietly. “Fuck me harder.”

“Harder, huh?” he grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Like this?”

He drove his hips in, the drag of his hips longer as he continued at the pace he had set, but his cock moving in harder and deeper within her.

“Yes” she gasped. “Just like that. Oh god, Dean.”

“You like that?” he asked, as he looked down at his cock driving into her.

“Yes” she moaned, her voice choked as she tried to stop herself from raising her voice.

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, her chest pushing out. Dean leaned in, kissing her neck, along her collarbone and down the valley of her breasts, feverishly. She moved in, wrapping her arms around him, tightly. Their faces were close to each other, their hot breath mingling as they let out small moans, gasps and groans. Y/N leaned down, sinking her teeth into Dean’s shoulder as she tried to stop herself from moaning loudly. Dean hissed at the sting of her teeth on his flesh but moaned softly as it added another layer of pleasure to what he was already feeling.

Dean’s hips picked up pace, the desk underneath them beginning to rock back and forth from the force of his thrusts. Y/N pressed her lips together, trying to keep quiet, as her hips met his, matching his pace. They were both close.

“Fuck, Y/N” he grunted, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Dean” she moaned, opening her eyes and staring at him. “I’m so close.”

The coil began to wind up tight in her core, ready to break at any moment. She whimpered as he grabbed her hips and drew her in closer, his cock hitting her g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock” he groaned, his hips unrelenting.

Items on the desk began to shake, and Y/N knew she had to get to her release before something fell and alerted someone to what was happening. Somehow Dean understood when she looked down at the lamp shaking; he quickly licked his fingers and brought them to her clit, circling the little bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles.

She let out a harsh gasp, her mouth hanging open as the coil snapped, panting quick, shallow breaths as she came. Her release slicked his cock, warm and wet against him. Dean’s thrusts became erratic, stuttering as he approached the edge.

“Dean” she moaned as she cupped his face, looking into his eyes. “Cum inside me.”

He panted, his breath hot against her lips, letting out a choked grunt as he thrust into her few more times, falling over the edge as he came inside her. He leaned his head on her shoulder, his hips slowing into shallow thrusts. He slowly pulled out of her, as she felt his seed drip out of her.

Y/N leaned her cheek against his head, combing her hand through his sweat soaked hair as they both came down from their high, breathing deeply. After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head, looking into her eyes. She smiled at him as he smirked, both of them laughing quietly. He leaned in, kissing her softly, a change of pace to how he had just fucked her, showing that he was as sweet as he was incredibly sexy. He kissed her lips, once, twice, three times before slowly moving away from her.

Y/N reached over and took out some tissues, cleaning herself as she passed Dean a few as well. He cleaned up and then pulled up his boxers and jeans, buttoning them up and pulling up the zip. He picked up his belt from the floor and put it through the loops, buckling it. She fixed her panties and pulled her skirt down, fixing the cups of her bra and pulling her top down, tucking it back in. Once they had redressed, Dean walked over to her as he shrugged on his jacket. He held her hips as he leaned in, kissing her again.

“You should head home” she told him, smiling. “I’ll be there in another hour.”

“Okay, I’ll order the pizza” he said, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Should be there by the time you get home.”

“Sounds good” she said, still smiling.

There was a moment of silence between them as they looked at each other.

“That was amazing” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Fuck yeah, it was” he grinned, his eyes lighting up.

She laughed at him as she lightly smacked his chest.

“I’ll see ya in a bit” he whispered against her lips, kissing her softly.

“Yeah” she whispered as he pulled away.

Dean walked over to the door and unlocked it. He opened it and turned back to her, seeing her watching him. She looked even more beautiful with her lips slightly swollen from kissing, and the knowledge that he had just ravaged her almost got him hard all over again. With one last look and a wink at her that caused the most beautiful smile to grace her face, he left and walked down the hall, ready to head home and wait for her.

Y/N fixed everything on the desk which had moved during their rendezvous. After the last few couples came in for their meetings, she packed up her things, put on her coat and scarf and shut off the light in the room. She walked down the hallway, the heels of her boots echoing off the floors.

As she drove home, the smile just wouldn’t leave her face. What they did back there, had been everything she could possibly want. It had been everything that they both needed. It solidified everything they both wanted from each other and for their future.

They were each other’s future.

And that was the biggest reason to smile.

-x-

If you’re crossed out, it means I can’t tag you :(

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng @roonyxx @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

#Life's Lessons #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

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nerdywriter36 · 3 years ago

Text

To Help the Helpless

AO3

FFN

erik sees himself in all the sick, injured, and abandoned pets he sees in animal shelters and is determined to give them the love and comfort that they deserve in their time of need when he wasn't granted the same as a human being. christine and their friends could not be happier to help.

this concept was born out of a discussion about erik and his pets with @ofserien, so thank you to her for helping to bring this idea to life :) it's been so long so I've posted on here because of my hiatus, but the first oneshot I've written since officially returning to tumblr. i really hope you all enjoy it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

"You brought in another one, Erik? Isn't your house full enough already?"

Erik simply rolled his eyes and turned to look back at Nadir, who was glancing at the variety of dogs and cats residing in their crates throughout his living room. "There is never too many rescues, Nadir, especially not when I'm taking them away from people who will put them down simply because they aren't getting adopted," he replied.

"And what's wrong with this one?" Nadir queried, gesturing to the puppy that his friend was carrying rather like a football - tucked against his side and laying along his forearm. "It looks fine to me."

"He had an old injury that was never fixed before he was turned in, so he doesn't look as perfect as people want," Erik said as he held the puppy up so Nadir could see his bowed front leg. "Otherwise, he is completely happy, energetic, and healthy, but people don't care. Looks are everything in this world."

His voice broke a bit, he noticed, and he knew that Nadir had heard it too. Every day was a different story when it came to how emotional he would get when it came to explaining why the animals had been abandoned and why their little lives were at risk. He hated that it still happened; he had been rescuing shelter animals for the better part of two years, not to mention the fact that most of his own struggles because of his appearance were behind him, but some days were simply harder than others.

He really was fortunate for all that he had to make his life as "normal" as possible, even with his physical differences. A prosthetic nose saved him far more grief than he believed people could understand and the mask he wore was so realistic and close to his skin tone, as remarkably pale as it may have been, that he hardly got rude stares anymore when he was out and about. It made quite the difference in his professional life as well; no one at the Paris Opera House wanted to accept compositions from a deformed freak, no matter their talent. His heterochromatic eyes were enough to put people off sometimes.

"I know, Erik, I'm sorry," Nadir piped up as he shot him a sympathetic smile. "I think what you're doing is great, you know that, I just worry about your stress levels. Not having to worry about you financially, but you're a composer making consistent contributions to the Paris Opera, you run an animal rescue, and now you have a girlfriend. That's a lot for one person!"

"Nadir, I'm fine," Erik replied, passing the puppy he held to his friend and smirking as it eagerly started to wiggle and lick at Nadir's neck and chin. "I'm managing it all, and having a girlfriend doesn't change much."

"Right, you say that now." Nadir turned his head away from the eager puppy, wiping his chin on his shoulder. "What is this thing anyway?"

"Australian shepherd, hence the energy." Making his way around the room, Erik checked the status of every food and water dish, but a buzz from his cell phone made him pause. As he pulled it out of his pocket, he couldn't help but smile when he saw a message from the new light in his life: Christine.

He still wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten so fortunate as to have Christine in his life. After all, their first introduction had been at the Paris Opera House when he had nearly run her right over in his eager rush to leave the very same building. As intricate and realistic as his mask may have looked, he never enjoyed being out in public, and he knew that everything about him was under harsh scrutiny when it came to the committee of men taking his submissions and suggestions for the music at the Opera. He wouldn’t have become a successful composer, having his music played at one of the most prestigious opera houses in the world, without them, but with the way they stared at him whenever he walked in, it certainly wasn’t easy to face them.

“Is that the new light of your life?” Nadir asked with a smirk, watching the lovesick smile growing on his friend’s face. “What did she say?”

“Just ‘hi’,” Erik replied, his unmasked cheek already flushed pink as he replied to the message.

Nadir scoffed and set the puppy down in a small pen filled with blankets off to the side. “You are in deep, my friend. How long have you been dating, three months? And just ‘hi’ still manages to make you blush? Does she not make more flirtatious comments than just that?”

“Oh, like you were any different when you and Kheya first got together,” Erik retorted.

“Hey, now, that...that is not a fair comparison.”

It was his friend’s turn to blush and Erik laughed at the sight. Mockery aside, though, he genuinely was happy for Nadir; he had been through a rough patch before meeting Rookheeya one year before, his father's death hanging the heaviest over him and stealing so much of the joy that Erik knew was in him. Once he met her though, everything seemed to fall into place; Erik still remembered the moment Nadir practically choked on his drink when he first noticed her from across the room at a small gathering at the Garnier. She was a beautiful young woman who shared his faith, many of his interests and balanced out his almost painfully realistic views with the necessary imagination and optimism that he needed. A match made in heaven, if Erik were to pair a phrase to their relationship.

“Sure it is,” Erik replied, smirking when he caught a glimpse of Nadir’s lock screen as he pulled out his phone: a photo of the happy couple themselves, both smiling wide. “You’ve practically wanted to marry her since the moment you met, you’re lovesick.”

“Okay, I love my girlfriend, so sue me,” Nadir retorted. “And I will have you know that I plan on proposing in the next few days.”

“Well, it’s about time!” Erik said with a laugh, patting him on the back as the pair walked into the kitchen. “Congrats, Nadir, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Nadir chuckled, crouching down to scratch the elderly golden retriever lounging under the kitchen table. “You and Christine have to catch up now.”

“No, no, this is no race. We are taking our time, I refuse to mess this up.”

“You aren’t going to mess it up, Erik.”

“I could. You remember how things ended with Lucy,” Erik said in a soft voice as he leaned over his countertop and scribbled on a notepad.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Nadir sighed. “She was a toxic mess, the end of your relationship was no fault of yours.”

Erik shrugged ever so slightly. “She ran off with some other guy and slept with him when we hadn’t even taken that step. I clearly did something wrong or she wouldn’t have left.” That breakup had hung over him like a dark, heavy cloud for weeks and still did at times. That said, the very same bout of depression and dejection had pushed him into the world of animal rescue that he still found himself in two years later, so for that he was thankful. Now, though, Luciana hardly ever crossed his mind; he had found someone to get him out and keep him out of that world of darkness.

“You didn’t, but anyhow, it doesn’t matter anymore. You have a girl that you love and who loves you, an amazing career, and an animal shelter in your living room. You’re doing alright for yourself,” Nadir pointed out. “Speaking of that, has Christie been over here yet? To meet the pack and all?”

“No, not yet. Believe me, it is on the list of things to do,” Erik replied, still scribbling away on his notepad as they spoke.

“That along with two hydrotherapy sessions, settling the new puppy in, getting groceries, working on your new composition, and going to see if you can pick up two tuxedo kittens. When do you have time to breathe, Erik?”

“In between everything. I manage just fine and I will slot Christine meeting everyone in. It’s a delicate process with some of these guys, you know that.”

Nadir scoffed. “Yes, I remember how slow it all was when you first introduced me,” he said, putting a hand up when his friend opened his mouth. “I know why it was slow, but that doesn't make it more enjoyable.”

“Right, well, unlike you, Christine is very patient, so it’ll be fine,” Erik replied. “She’s coming with me tomorrow to pick up those kittens, so I’ll probably ask her over after and try to introduce me.”

“Let’s hope it goes well. We wouldn't want you to have to choose between your lady friend and your pets. I don't know if you’d survive that.”

"Thank you for helping me today, Christine," Erik said, smiling over at his sweetheart, who sat beside him in the front seat of his car with two tuxedo kittens on her towel-covered lap (she had insisted on the towel, even though his car was covered with fur on practically a daily basis). "These two seem like a very sweet little pair. I doubt I'll have trouble finding them homes."

"Why weren't they getting adopted just at the shelter?" Christine inquired, an inquisitive frown on her face as she turned to him for an answer.

Which he did not really have, so he simply shrugged. "They don't let enough time pass to give people a chance, frankly. Not to mention that this would mean adopting two kittens at once, what with how closely bonded they are, and not everyone is willing to take on that kind of commitment."

"It doesn't seem like too much trouble." Christine looked back down at the kittens, her sweet giggle escaping her as one of them mewed and set its paws on her chest to get closer to her, almost inspecting her. "Hello there. You're not trouble, are you? You're just a sweet little baby."

Erik couldn't help but chuckle when he heard the voice she put on to talk to the animal - a light tone, using grammatically incorrect sentences, almost as if she were speaking to a baby. Which she was, in a sense.

"You'll have to help me name them. I name so many animals that I end up running out of options after a while."

"One of them - the boy, that is - should be...Sylvester. Like from Looney Tunes! He looks just like him, it's too good to pass it up!"

"A very good choice, I think," Erik nodded as he began the drive towards his home. "I'm not sure about the girl yet. Perhaps I'll call her Christine."

His girlfriend scoffed and glanced over at him. "Erik, you can't suggest naming any and every female animal you bring into your house after me."

"Why not? I like your name."

"I know you do, but once you get to Christine the Eighth or whatnot, there's a problem."

He couldn't help but laugh; her sense of humour and mild sarcasm had been part of what had endeared her to him in the first place. "I suppose there might be. I do like your name, though, I wouldn't mind it too much."

"Yes, I know that, and if we ever had a daughter, she would be Christine Junior, I know how much you like my name." She giggled again, and he noticed her look over at him in his periphery; he was just glad that he had his mask on so she wouldn't notice him blushing at the thought of sharing a child with her. "You need some new options."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I...I just think it's a nice name. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he said softly.

The comment must have been the right one, as he was rewarded with a quick peck on the cheek. "You're very sweet," Christine replied as she turned back to the kittens and stroked their backs as they cuddled together on the towel. "So once we drop these little ones off, I suppose you'll just take me home? I'm sure you'll have lots to do."

There it was - his opportunity to make the offer to her to finally come over so he could truly introduce her to his life in its entirety rather than trying to hide parts of it. A glance over at her was enough to tell him that she was disappointed at the idea of having to go home, as she so often was, and he hated to upset her, so he would do his best to fix it as best he could at that moment.

"Actually, I was thinking...would you like to come in today?" he asked, looking at her briefly again and smiling a bit when she looked back at him, wide-eyed and shocked at the question. "I'll have to settle these two in, but I would love to-"

"Yes," she replied, cutting him off rather abruptly. "Yes, I would love to. Do I have to do anything? Not do anything? Can I help with anything, wh-what can I do?"

"Just be yourself," Erik said, unable to stop a quiet laugh from escaping him at seeing how enthusiastic she was. "Your sweet, gentle, caring self, my dear. That is all that I can ask of you when it comes to meeting the little pack that I have at home."

"That much I can do," Christine said with a firm nod, clearly very dedicated to her mission. "Thank you, Erik."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For trusting me with this, with meeting them. I know that their health and security means a lot to you, so knowing that you trust me to come in and make myself a new part of that arrangement that you have really means a lot to me."

"Of course I trust you, my darling. I...I love you." The phrase still felt foreign in his mouth after not using it for so long after losing Lucy, but he was making an effort to use it as often as he possibly could with Christine; she meant more to him than anyone ever had before and she deserved to hear that from him.

"I love you too," Christine said with a warm smile on her face. "Come on, then, drive! I have puppies to meet!"

"Are you ready, Christine?" Erik asked from where he stood at the end of the hallway, having just collected a young bulldog puppy from her kennel and was presently walking towards the bedroom, of all places, where his sweetheart was waiting. An unconventional setting, yes, but there was a purpose to it.

"Of course I'm ready!" he heard her call back, her excitement practically dripping from her voice. "There's a puppy involved, how could I not be ready?"

"Alright, alright," he said with a quiet laugh as he stepped into the room, the puppy starting to squirm in his arms at the sight of the new person and the sound of Christine's giddy squeal. "This is Lily."

Christine gasped, a hand to her chest. "Lily, oh, how precious," she said with a giggle. "Can I hold her? Or would you prefer that I didn't?"

"No, you can hold her. She's generally good with people," Erik nodded, sitting next to his girlfriend beside his bed and setting the puppy on her lap. "Just watch her back legs."

"What's wrong with her?" Christine asked softly, looking at the puppy's legs that splayed out behind her rather than tucking beneath her to hold her body up.

"It's called swimmer's syndrome. They can't really say what causes it; some people think it's hereditary, others think it's because their environment as newborns kept them from getting around a lot, even others say it was because of defects before they were born, so I'm not entirely sure," Erik explained. "Still, as bad as it looks, it's treatable, which is why we are here in my room."

Scooping the puppy up again, he stood and walked a few steps away to a sling apparatus set up against the wall and slipped the puppy into it so she hung with her paws just above the ground. "She'll sit in the sling for about 20 minutes every day, and I'll just massage her legs and try to mimic walking motions with her. I do this a few times a day."

He carefully began to act on the same procedure he had just described, smiling as Christine stepped over to join him while he carefully rubbed the puppy's legs and helped her to move them the way she would if she were walking as she should. He knew that there was always a risk that the therapy he tried to do for the animals that were struggling wouldn't work, but he was going to try his best. Very few people had ever tried to help him throughout his life, so he thought he would allow the animals to have that, whether they knew they had it or not.

"How many others do you do this kind of thing for?" Christine softly asked a few minutes into the therapy session.

"A few. Whether it's for little ones like this who have defects of some sort or for older animals who struggle with arthritis and different things like that, therapy does a lot. I do this kind of thing, as well as hydrotherapy, which entails me getting very wet," Erik replied with a chuckle. "But it's worth it when I see the results. True, it doesn't always happen, and they end up turning into hospice cases more than anything, but if I can try and get them back on their feet, as happy and healthy as can be so they can go to a good home, then I'll do what I have to do to make that happen." He turned towards her and smiled just as she cupped his face in her hands and drew him into a gentle kiss, distracting him from his therapy session momentarily. "You are one of the most kind-hearted people I know. You know that, right?"

"You tell me that enough, so I suppose it carries some truth. It's never occurred to me much otherwise, though."

"Well, you had better believe it because it could not be more true," Christine said with a grin.

Erik couldn't help but chuckle as he gave her another quick peck on the lips. "If you are trying to earn yourself brownie points or extra kisses or something, I admire your effort, it just might work out in your favour," he replied, returning his attention to the puppy.

"Fantastic," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder and watching while he worked. "Did you have any other plans for the day for us? Dinner, perhaps?"

"Yes, I was hoping you would help me with dinner," Erik nodded, letting the offer hang for a moment before he added, "For the dogs and cats, that is."

"Ah yes, how romantic, exactly what I had in mind," Christine said with a laugh. "Filling food bowls. I can't wait."

Ever since Erik had given her the go-ahead to come over and spend time with himself and his little pack of rescue animals, Christine had taken full advantage of it. Whenever she could manage it, she was at his house, helping him with feeding and bathing all of the little pets in his care, keeping him company while he was cleaning, and even learning how to do hydrotherapy on a few of the dogs that happened to need it. A couple of months had already passed since that day, unbelievably, but she had cherished every second that she had gotten to spend with both Erik and all the animals in his care. She found herself getting close to every single one of them, and she could see how happy it made her sweetheart; Erik smiled even wider than he normally did when she was around, a photo of the two of them with one of his eldest dogs - a golden retriever named Buddy - had become the photo on the lock screen of his phone while others had been printed and framed on his wall. She knew that he had had little joy in his life, but if she could contribute to that happiness along with allowing him to pursue one of his passions, then she would happily support it.

Getting to play with cute puppies and kittens while she was at his house was a nice perk too.

A short while into the arrangement - about a month after Christine herself had been introduced, - she had convinced Erik to let Meg have a gentle introduction of her own to all the animals he cared for. Her roommate had just about lost her mind when she had found out that she had finally gotten to meet all of her boyfriend's pets and hadn't stopped begging her to get Erik's permission for her to meet them until she had finally agreed to give it a shot.

Erik had been hesitant at first, that much was for certain, but she promised him that Meg knew how to keep calm and quiet when she had to be. Eventually, with a slightly skeptical expression on his face, he had agreed to allow her over to meet some of the animals, much to Meg's delight.

As Christine had predicted, the introductions had gone perfectly fine and Meg was quickly scooped up into the little pack Erik seemed to be steadily building. Their visits brought them closer to the animals, to Erik, as well as to Nadir and Rookheya, Erik's best friend and his fiancée. There was something endearing about seeing her sweetheart interacting with someone other than just herself; she knew that he did it for work and all, but watching him so at ease and laughing with his closest friend warmed her heart, even if Nadir didn't seem completely at ease around the animals in the house. For a while, their little group was complete and happy, enjoying every moment they had.

But not every joyful moment could last, unfortunately.

It was the middle of the night when she got the first phone call. Her ringer was quiet, true, but it lulled Christine out of her sleep, though she didn't bother to look at the screen to see who was calling. 'Whatever scam caller it is can just leave a message for me to delete,' she thought to herself as she rolled over onto her side and buried her face in her pillow to attempt to fall back to sleep.

Her phone fell silent for just a moment, but within moments, it had started ringing again.

With a huff, Christine sat up and grabbed her phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen, and saw her boyfriend's name and picture on her screen, which made her frown. It was just past two in the morning, why would he be calling her? Her heart was already racing a bit as she pressed the green 'Answer' button and held her phone to her ear.

"Hello? Erik, what's going on?"

Hiccuping breaths were what she heard first, which only serve to worry her more. "C-Christine, come over," Erik finally managed to say, his voice choked with tears. "Buddy is...something's wrong, please come over."

"Okay, it's okay. I'll be right there and I'll bring Meg with me," she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible despite her own worry about the dog that she'd become so close with. "Have you called Nadir?"

"He's here already. Rookheya too," Erik said, sniffling quietly. "Just please come over, Christine, please."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

Not hearing a response from Erik told her how distracted and worried he was - he always returned her affections, and she wasn't even offended by the lack of reciprocation; she was only worried.

Christine quickly climbed out of bed, deciding not to bother changing out of her pyjamas given how warm it was outside and only grabbing a pair of socks to quickly slip on. Throwing open her bedroom door, she hurried next door to Meg's room, walked inside and over to her bed to shake her gently. "Meg. Meg, get up, come on."

She rolled her eyes when her friend simply moaned sleepily and pulled her covers over her head. "Meg, please get up. Erik just called me, something's wrong, we have to go over there."

That was enough to make Meg's eyes open rather quickly and she moved the blankets to look up at her friend. "What's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know, all I know is that it's Buddy and Erik is crying, so it's bad," Christine replied with a sigh. "Please get up so we can go."

"Okay, I'm up. Go get your shoes on, I'll be down in a sec," Meg said, clambering out of bed and shuffling past her friend to get dressed.

Within minutes, the two of them were in Christine's car driving towards Erik's house, the open roads with that time at night helping their travel immensely. Not knowing what was wrong was driving Christine half-mad, though she was drawing some unfortunate conclusions, considering the animal that was involved. If she was right, it made sense why Erik had sounded so upset; she knew how much he loved that dog.

"Nadir just texted you," Meg said softly, looking at her friend's phone while she couldn't do so herself. "Asking if we're going to be there soon."

"Just tell him that we will be. That I'm driving as fast as I can without risking getting arrested in the process," Christine said, managing a quiet laugh.

She saw her friend nod as she typed away, the clicking of the keys the only sound in the car. A moment later: "He says, 'As long as you hurry. Get here before'..." Meg trailed off at that, making Christine turn to look at her.

"Before what? What did he say?"

"'Before we lose him.'"

Christine's heart seemed to leap into her throat and, without a word, pushed her foot down ever so slightly harder on the gas pedal, just praying they'd arrive in time.

The two young women burst through the house's front door as soon as they arrived, Christine making use of her spare key. She didn't even need to wonder where everyone else would be; she knew that Erik kept that golden retriever by his bedside every night so that he could monitor him. Nothing had ever happened before that had warranted any action, but something had obviously changed that night. Drastically.

Bolting up the stairs with Meg right behind her, she quickly arrived at her boyfriend's room, which was completely dark save for his bedside lamp, and her heart sank when she saw him in the middle of the floor holding Buddy in his arms, Nadir and Rookheya close by.

"Erik, I'm here," she whispered as she moved to sit beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I came as fast as I could, what's happening?"

"I don't know," Erik replied with a sniffle, stroking the dog's fur as he spoke. "They said he had more time. Not much, but more than this, I don't understand."

His words were drowned out by his tears as he leaned forward and buried his face in the retriever's fur, so Christine simply hushed him and rubbed his back. "I know, I'm sorry," she said with a quiet sigh. "You've done so much for him and for all the animals you take care of, Erik, you have to remember that. Whatever happens tonight is not a result of what you've done, you have done everything possible for him."

"Not enough, though. This wouldn't be happening if I had done enough," Erik managed to say through his tears, a sob slipping out of him.

Christine's own throat tightened up hearing the heartbreak spilling over through his words, so she was fortunate that Nadir shuffled over, set a hand on his friend's back and took on the role of the comforter from her; she couldn't trust herself not to cry, so she simply focused on trying to give the elderly dog as much love as she could possibly convey.

"Erik, you know it isn't your fault," Nadir said softly. "He's ill and I know that you've known that for a while now; you always knew he was going to be a hospice case from the beginning. You have to keep that in mind because if you don't, I know that you will blame it on yourself and you can't do that. He's had a wonderful life with you."

"He's right, Erik, you've given him so much," Christine said, finding it in her to dry a few stray tears and contribute to the conversation again. "He's had a beautiful life here with you, he knows that you love him."

Erik's only response was a nod as he lifted his head enough to gently kiss the top of the dog's head. "I love you, Buddy. We all do," he whispered, trying to force a smile as the dog turned his head to glance up at him, and Christine noticed Erik move his hand to rest over the dog's chest, clearly to feel for his heartbeat and wait for when it inevitably ceased. Not knowing exactly what else to say, she simply set her hand over her sweetheart's resting her head on his shoulder as everyone simply waited for the inevitable.

It didn't take long, in the end, and Erik didn't say a word; the way he muffled a sob and leaned over the dog to hold him to his chest told everyone what they needed to know. Christine hadn't quite expected to get as emotional as she did. She knew that she was attached to all of Erik's animals and that even the thought of her love in pain made her heart ache, but there had been something different this time. Erik had loved Buddy probably more than any of his other rescues, and she had a strong feeling that that love had been mutual.

It turned out that she wasn't the only one getting emotional; she had expected to see a few tears from Meg, and there they were, but looking over at Erik's other friends, she found Rookheya with her face tucked in the crook of Nadir's neck, the slight shake of her shoulders the only clue that she was emotional, while even Nadir - Nadir 'I don't like pets much' Khan - had tears in his eyes. Whether it was Buddy's death or Erik's reaction that had made him cry, she couldn't tell, but the show of empathy for what his friend was going through was something that she appreciated and knew that Erik would too.

Quickly drying her cheeks, she leaned over and gently kissed Erik's cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she reached up and gently wiped his tears away. "But you gave him such a beautiful life, just like you're doing for all the others you're caring for. They needed someone and you were there to rescue them. I'm so proud of you for that, and Buddy was proud too."

Erik managed a weak smile as he turned to look at her, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to hers. "Do you think so?" he croaked.

"I know so, my darling. I have no doubt of it."

#my writing #i dont even know how this idea came to me #but it did #i apologize for the bit of angst #but i hope you enjoy it regardless!#e/c #erik x christine #erik/christine #poto #phantom of the opera #kerik #susan kay phantom #nadir khan #meg giry #christine daae #erik

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puppetsoftomorrow · 4 years ago

Text

the avalance news reader au

hey who said peer pressure doesn't work. anyway i made this post and y'all seemed to like it so here we go!! might post to ao3 later on idk...

It had been a truly terrible day.

Ava considered, in the moment that her coffee machine spluttered coughed up coffee grounds over her last clean shirt, that maybe she'd just had a truly terrible year. All her dreams about finally moving to television after being stuck in the doldrums of local news media for six years had been slashed when she'd been placed on the graveyard shift - sure, Ava was finally reading the news, but her shift was from 1AM until 4AM, so her only audience was long-distance truck drivers and new parents.

Still, she persevered, with the slightly foolish belief that if she worked hard enough, she could be promoted to a primetime slot. Or at least a slot that didn't require her to be making coffee at 10:45PM.

Her day had started off badly - she'd barely slept, as the sound from the construction work three blocks away rattled her windows, and she’d woken to find that her cat, Merlin, had kicked his litter halfway across the house in a fit of pique. Ava couldn't even have her normal oatmeal, as she was out of oat milk, and now she was having to drink her coffee black.

After changing her shirt to a dark dress and grimacing as she choked down the coffee, there was a knock on the door, and Ava groaned as she realised she was running late.

"Hey, Sara." She sighed.

Sara stood in the doorway, hair wavy over her shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie - the same grey hoodie she wore every day, branded with their news station's logo.

"Woah, a dress?" Sara said, eyebrows raised appreciatively, as Ava grabbed her coat and bag and they moved to go down the stairs.

"Don't mention it." Ava grumbled, pulling the coat around her shoulders.

"It looks good on you." Sara said, and Ava shot her a look. Sara mimed zipping her lips. "Do we have to time for Starbucks? I had to have black coffee; my mouth tastes like something died in it." Ava muttered, and Sara shrugged.

"I mean, we've arrived half an hour early for every shift for the past year -"

"Do you want to go back to taking the bus?" Ava said, looking over at her as they reached the lobby. They'd discovered they lived in the same building almost accidentally in Ava's first week, awkwardly meeting across the hall in the early morning, until Sara had realised that Ava had a car and they'd started riding in together.

"Fine, if you're happy with having bad angles." Sara said, holding the door open for her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying I have bad angles?"

"Oh, I'll find one." Sara muttered, and Ava snorted with laughter and unlocked the car. One of the benefits to giving her camera operator a ride every day was always having excellent angles.

After a stop at Starbucks, Ava rolled along the dark, quiet roads, sighing deeply.

"What's up?" Sara asked, sipping her drink - black coffee, which she somehow enjoyed.

"Nothing." Ava muttered, but it only took one look at Sara for her to come out with the story of her crappy day. Sara laughed.

"So that's why you're wearing the dress."

"That's what you're focusing on?" Ava said, focusing on the road with a small smile on her face. "I have to go back to my apartment at 5AM and clean up kitty litter and coffee grounds."

"Not to mention getting coffee out of your shirt." Sara snorted, and Ava groaned, loud and over the top.

///

They always split when they got to the studio, Ava marching off to make-up to get ready, and Sara taking the elevator to the studio floor to set up her camera. The studio was always dead past midnight, just a skeleton crew left, which Sara found she enjoyed - it was easier to know everyone that way. She waved at Nate, distracting him from where he was running through the weather, muttering under his breath and checking his perfectly coiffed hair in the camera. He waved back, a bright smile on his face.

Careful not to trip over any of the wires on the floor, Sara made her way up to the box above the studio, the cramped room filled from head to toe with blinking lights and buttons, with a large window so they could look down on the studio. The techs – Behrad and Charlie - were sat with headphones on, running through sound checks, so Sara just waved to them as she found who she was looking for.

Zari, the studio runner, was running through her clipboard, muttering under her breath. When she saw Sara coming, she rolled her eyes. "Back again?"

"What have you got for her today?" Sara asked, keeping her voice nonchalant.

"The usual. Some city councilor has been embezzling funds, Star City is readying to bid for the 2028 Olympics, and former mayor Queen is opening a patisserie down-town. It's been a quiet week."

"Exactly." Sara said, her grin widening. "You've got to add the cat one."

Ray, their head writer, had found a story a week ago about a fat cat attending the Star City pet spa to lose weight, and Sara had been tracking down clips of the poor thing, bribing the editor, Nora, to pull them together. She'd even written a script. Zari looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! I have a bet going with Mick - if I can get Ava to break on camera by the end of the month, he's got to give me $50." Sara said. It was ridiculous, she'd started the bet - truthfully, she found it endearing how Ava read the news with the same abject sternness whether she was covering a political scandal or a dog who'd learnt to surf in Star City Bay. She'd only broken her composure once - a smile creeping on her face when reporting on the 5th birthday of a crocodile at Star City Zoo named Snaps. From that day on, Sara had vowed to make her laugh, properly, live on air.

"I don't have any time to make up." Zari said, and Sara sighed.

"Yeah, but you know Ava reads quick enough. Please? For me?"

Zari seemed immune to the puppy eyes, so Sara sighed. "And I'll give you $20."

Zari snorted. "Do you have $20?"

"I'll have $50 when I win the bet." Sara countered, and Zari sighed.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Z, you're the best." Sara said with a grin, and turned to return to the studio floor.

///

The program went smoothly, like always. Sara liked her job, the focus of filming and the pride she got when she saw her own work on TV, but she liked it better when she was filming Ava, who had pretty much insisted from day one that Sara be her primary operator.

Ava looked especially pretty today, someone in make-up evidently having convinced her that she didn't need the bun today, and instead curled her hair over both shoulders, which didn't completely cover Ava's defined arms, visible in her sleeveless dress.

The night ran the same as most others, Ava transitioning smoothly between topics and engaging in light, courteous banter with Nate before he presented the weather. Sara looked at Ava during these moments, the five minutes she was off camera, where she looked down at her notes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Okay, so maybe Sara wanted to make Ava laugh because she looked so pretty doing it. Sue her.

They were coming near the end, and Sara was losing hope that the story would be included, until she heard the segue.

"Now, in lighter news," Ava started, her eyebrows suddenly shooting up as she read the prompter. Sara grinned; Zari had obviously left this out of Ava's notes to inspire more of a reaction.

"Cats," Ava blurted out, steadying herself before continuing, "they're not normally known for their love of swimming, but one feline in Star City is hitting the water instead of the gym in a bid to lose weight. Mr. Snuggles -" Ava bit her lip as the pictures played on the monitor - a black and white cat in a life vest, looking absolutely terrified, and Sara grinned. "Mr. Snuggles is a thirteen-year-old cat who - dislikes the outdoors and other physical activities."

Sara's grin widened as Ava lost it, barely making it through her lines through her giggles. Her face was flushing pink and she bit her lip to try and compose herself. "But with encouragement from his owner -" Ava pressed on, trying to hold herself together, "Mr. Snuggles had lost one pound in six months."

That was the final straw, as Ava descended into a full-on laugh, barely making it through her sign off. Sara was so distracted by the sound she nearly missed Zari's voice in her ear. "Camera 1 to Camera 3 in 3, 2, 1 -"

Sara switched off, but not before Ava snorted, flushing even deeper and covering her face with her hands at the sound, not disguised by the jingle from the lottery numbers playing across the screen.

///

Ava had bolted from the set, and Sara packed up her equipment as quickly as possible, ducking out just in time to catch Ava as she walked down the corridor to the lobby. Her face was now free of make-up, her hair tied up in a messy bun, but she was still in the dress that left Sara's mouth a little dry. She looked at Sara, blushing again.

"I can't believe you did that." She groaned, and Sara put on her most innocent face on.

"Did what?"

"Bribed Zari to put the cat story in! John in make-up said that Charlie had told him that you'd bribed Zari."

"To win $50!" Sara said, grinning. "And you have a really cute laugh."

Ava looked up; eyebrow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yep." Sara said, trying to play it cool. "Look, do you want half? I feel bad now."

Ava sighed. "No, it's okay."

"I could buy you dinner." Sara said, almost blurting it out, and Ava looked at her. "To make up for it."

Ava's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Uh - yeah, okay. I can do dinner."

~the end~

okay so this was fun to write and i kind of want to write more so uhh send me where u think this story should go. or ideas for a part 2 maybe. thanks for reading!!

#phoebe lifeblogs #avalance #legends of tomorrow #my writing #this is almost Too cute lmao

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that-wimpy-cowboy-doll · 4 years ago

Note

Dialogue prompt: Shieldshock (duh) and "You weren't supposed to see/hear that" (whichever version speaks to the muse more)

💕😘💕😘💕😘

Whoo baby this is late but I went with “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” Hope you enjoy, bb. Regrettably the overtly sexy stuff is only mentioned

Darcy did her best to stifle the flush burning its way up her neck, diverting her eyes from Steve Rogers marching his handsome heroic ass into the latest Stark Industries company party.

“He wasn’t even supposed to be here,” Darcy hissed, and brought her glass of champagne up to her lips, draining it. “The last time I saw him, he said he wasn’t coming…”

But there he was, in all his tall glass of Captain glory. Not unnoticed by many of Darcy’s coworkers, men and women alike, who weren’t even trying to hide the lust in their eyes as he made his way through the glass doors from the hallway into the event space.

Not that Darcy could blame them. He looked damn good in a suit. Looked damn good out of one, too, the last time she’d shoved his dress slacks down his thighs on her couch so she could take him in her mouth, make him lose control with his huge sexy hands in her hair and her name hoarse in his throat.

That was beside the point, though. The point of avoiding her famous fuck buddy in public was, well, 1) to protect his Super Duper Hero Complex by preventing her from being used against him by supervillains, 2) to keep the fuck buddy dynamic on a professional, non-work-involved basis, and 3) perhaps most importantly, to keep either of them from catching dreaded fuck buddy feelings. Any kind of public interaction lent toward making them feel obligated to each other, and that was something Darcy’d proclaimed absolutely not happening when they’d agreed to this. No strings attached sex was fun, as long as they kept their passions strictly below the belt.

“I mean,” Jane started, as she always did, to remind her best friend of how stupid she thought the whole arrangement was, “it’s not like you’ll burst into flames if he says hello to you in front of other people. That’s kind of...acting like a human being? The last time I checked?”

If it was possible, Darcy blushed harder, not watching him be accosted by Tony near the bar. “I don’t know, it’s possible I might spontaneously combust if he even fucking smiles at me in public...when we’re alone I can do whatever the fuck I want, but here…”

“You’re a whole-ass baby, you know that?” Jane deadpanned, hunting for the cherry at the bottom of her drink with the tip of her straw. “Just be casual. Like you are for the debriefing meetings.”

This was different, Darcy wanted to huff, knowing that she would sound like a whole-ass baby if she did. Being casual with the person she rang for casual sex in their workplace, in the moment, was one thing. They were still technically at work, sure, but this was a party - she was supposed to enjoy herself.

It was hard to enjoy herself in the same room as Steve Rogers without his lips on some part of her.

“I have...a problem,” she admitted slowly, her champagne glass far too empty for her liking. Jane, meanwhile, wore an expression somewhere between unsurprised and unimpressed. “I think I want to be exclusive.”

“Are you not already?” The incredulity in her best friend’s voice was clear, but Jane propped a hand on her hip anyway to add to the effect. “I haven’t heard about any of your Tinder escapades lately, and from what Thor’s told me, Steve doesn’t really have his eye on anyone else…”

“Just because we haven’t been fucking anyone else doesn’t mean he wants to be with me, too.” He was closer now, shaking hands with some fundraiser coordinator Tony had invited; God, every bone in Steve’s body seemed more warm and genuine than the last. “If I talk to him in public I’m going to want to kiss him in public, and that...crosses a line I don’t know that he’s cool with.”

“There’s this magnificent thing I’ve read about,” Jane said, her PhD voice in full effect, “called having a fucking conversation, Darcy. I love you with my whole entire heart, don’t get me wrong, but I think if you just talked to him...you wouldn’t be on the fence with all this anxiety.”

That was easy for Jane to say. The best sex of her life had wanted her pretty much the moment he’d laid eyes on her, had done his best to make up for his absences in the time they were able to spend together, and Jane’s heart, though preceded always by her big, sexy brain, lived on her sleeve. She and Thor sorted things out without much fuss.

Darcy had known she was several leagues below Steve when they met, and had made an idiot out of herself walking directly into his giant rock-hard chest with an entire tray of coffee that splattered on his Very American uniform. God only knew why he’d agreed to be her bang buddy a month or so later, but she had a distinct feeling it had more to do with what lay on top of her chest rather than the dumb dorky heart that beat under it.

He was making rounds, coming closer, so she changed the subject quickly, Jane performing her mightiest eye-roll while Darcy rattled off something inane about some singer who’d donated to the literacy foundation Tony and Pepper were heading.

“I heard Pepper wants to get Lady Gaga to perform at the ribbon-cutting,” Jane added helpfully, glancing into her emptied glass. “Sounds pretty cool.”

“She was the one who got Weezer for tonight.”

Darcy’s heart stammered in her chest at the voice that had contributed that delightful tidbit of conversation, and the tall, muscular, suited body that accompanied it. Steve’s smile glinted from under his perfectly trimmed beard, the velvet blue of his jacket and pants doing absolutely nothing for the growing whirlpool of want in Darcy’s stomach. Christ almighty.

“Was she?” Jane prompted, looking, to her best friend’s dismay, like a cat with a mouthful of canary. “Darcy loves Weezer, you know.”

Was this it? Was she dead? Had the gala all been some elaborate ruse planned by Stark Industries to murder her fucking dead on the spot in front of the hottest man she’d ever met?

If this was it, Darcy mused, at least she looked really fucking good.

“I didn’t know that,” Steve said, and now he was making eye contact with her, that knowing smile on his lips that could only be held by someone in his exact position.

“They were actually my first concert.” She swallowed, her throat dry. “Right after ‘Pork and Beans’ came out. I was in college and I wore...way too much eyeliner, but in fairness I think I was in the majority there.”

Jesus Christ, stop fucking talking.

Jane smirked at the empty champagne flute in her hand. “Here, I’m out, too, let me get you another one.”

Against her better judgment, Darcy surrendered the glass with only a furtive version of the eye-daggers she wanted to send her best friend. Jane sent her a sly wink before tailing it toward the bar.

“Weezer.” She swallowed again, doing her best not to notice the way his tongue dashed out across his lower lip, his eyes boring down into hers through those stupid long eyelashes. “When do they come on?”

“You haven’t been seeing anyone else.” It wasn’t a question, he was smiling a stupid cocky half-smile that she thought stupidly would look much better between her thighs. “What was it Jane said…’no Tinder escapades’ - was that it?”

It felt like the blood had drained from her body. “You...weren’t supposed to hear that.”

He stuck his huge hands in his pockets, gathering himself up to his fullest height. Fuck, he was so big. She couldn’t get enough of it. “Well...you’re both right about something. I’m not seeing anyone else either, and kissing in public could definitely cross a line.”

Great. If the mortification wasn’t enough, now her heart felt like it had dropped into her stomach. “Yeah?”

He stepped forward, his hand sliding to her favorite place, the small of her back with his pinkie just brushing into her ass. When they were alone, this always felt like him laying his claim, showing her where she belonged, where he belonged. But they weren’t alone. Not even close.

“Yeah,” he murmured, dropping his lips to hers, slotting their mouths together. Her eyes flew shut of their own accord, melting into him, the smell of his pine soap and fresh linens filling her nose. Steve kissed like he fucked, like he did anything: full of passion, vigor, life.

For a moment, Darcy forgot they were in the middle of a gala, lost in his warm body pressing up against her, but when she brought her hands to his collar he pulled away slowly, releasing her bottom lip from between his teeth with a sly smile.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he whispered, his nose still halfway touching hers, “you wanna dance to some Weezer with me, Darcy?”

She closed her eyes again, a tiny laugh escaping her in a short breath. “Yeah, I’ll dance to some Weezer.”

#darcy lewis #steve rogers #shieldshock

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