#i have to wait until monday the day of the deadline to call and ask and to try and get the paperwork together

[nyelaexe]

Yet again the same fucking facility needs even MORE paperwork from me. My last deadline to get my other files in was October 2nd and I didn't get the letter until Friday September 29th so I only had that day to scramble and get my bank statements from a fucking year ago. Now it looks like they want me to turn in a medical bill or something. The letter was mailed out on the 3rd - the day AFTER I turned in my bank statements. I'm just now receiving the letter on Friday the 13th and it's due Monday the 16th. Which means I have to call on the day of the deadline to find out what the hell they even need because they're closed right now. And then it's possible that my health coverage will get turned off because I don't have what they need. I'm hoping they'll accept the bill for my medicine that just came in today. But whenever I get mail from this place I always open it to see that the mailing date was nearly two fucking weeks before I actually received the letter. And then I always have to run around the city to get what they need. I don't understand why they gave me until the 2nd to turn in my bank statements and then sent out another letter the very next day that they needed a medical bill. Why not just request all that shit at the same time so I don't keep almost missing my deadlines and losing my coverage?

[melissamasakari]

Confessions you didn`t notice

Chapter five. Solstice thingies.

The next week was quite routine. A bunch of small tasks, replenishing the warehouse, hunting for all sorts of monsters outside. Nothing special. And then on Sunday fireside Gale announced the grandiose construction of the century. According to him, the neighboring government had finally agreed with Portia to build a road to Sandrock. For this purpose, a huge bridge and transport network were designed. That sounded like tons of interesting orders and it was promised that orders will be posted tomorrow. For now, I can check materials and prepare.

So on Monday morning I already got the first specific task. Wow, that's a big deal. Fortunately, the deadlines are not as tight as is it customary with external investments. I made a plan, ran around abandoned ruins, and returned home. In the evening I heard a familiar stomp at the gate. Wow, who got here! And I already missed him a lot by now.

“Melissa, are you home?” Arlo kicked the gate a couple of times. Red-block-head, I'll just kill you! I just fixed the fence!

“What, smoking furnaces in the yard are not enough evidence for the great detective?”

“Well, knowing you, they are not. You can easily fire up the grill and go somewhere. I have to look after your stuff from time to time.”

“Come in, stop yelling over the fence. You'll scare away the neighbors' chickens.”

“You asked to knock. So I knock. But usually it doesn't help.”

“OK. What do you need now? Some great feats or something simpler?”

“Personal,” oh, that’s a smile. Okay, red-block-head, you’re off the hook.

“Did you broke new dummy within a week, or is something rotten in the warehouse?” I inquired, while trying not to show embarrassment and excessive interest.

“No! Are you going to the fest tomorrow? I got busy and completely forgot that there was also a snowball battle there.”

“Fest? Tomorrow?”

“Well, yes, Winter Solstice. We celebrate the end of the year, make wishes, and share plans for the next year. This kind of stuff.”

“We just didn’t celebrate this. There was something similar, but it was in the fall. Tell me about what will happen there.”

Redhead told in detail how they celebrate here in Portia the date that I usually call the New Year. The part with the big pot of shared soup is a little unclear to me, but overall it sounds very interesting. It's probably worth going. Wait. He just invited me to a public event. It doesn’t seem like a date; I don’t even dare to consider it so. But it turns out that we will be together in front of a crowd of people all day long, won’t we? Well, if I will not blush too much and stutter, no one will really notice anything. At the same time, I’ll piss off Nora. Moreover, I still don’t know what he decided about her, maybe he has a harem of little sisters formed through my efforts.

“How does it sound? Will you go?

“With you? Yes, with you I'll even go through the jaws of Death. And back.”

“I hope it's unnecessary. So, meet me at Alice's store in the morning.”

“Fine. Why there?”

“Approximately equal distance.”

“Fair point. I don’t need to run to the guild in the morning,” I nodded at the traditional chaos around the assembly site. “I have full bunch of orders until the end of the spring.”

On Tuesday morning I dresses up, grabbed gifts for friends and headed to the meeting place. Holy Mr. Peach, just how nervous I am! This is definitely NOT A DATE, why am I so worked up? Oh, there he is, waving his hand. Somehow I got there too quickly.

“Hey!” Arlo offered me his hand, inviting me to grab his forearm.

“Glad to see you so cheerful. That’s your favorite event, I guess?”

“Sure thing. A city hotpot is a big deal, especially when it's so cold and snowy. That’s nothing better than a hefty pot of hot, spicy soup in such a weather!”

“Is it so very spicy?”

“It depends on how much pepper and ginger the townspeople throw in there. And what?”

“Do they usually throw a lot? I don't really like spiced food while I can still stomach ginger or mustard. But I was sick tired of hot pepper even in Barnarock. For some reason everyone there was obsessed with it. What a nonsense, there is a wild heat all around, and they are still have to put it inside themselves also. Brr.”

“Then it’s better not to. Or grab a portion at the very beginning. Well, it's a pity. I thought you liked it somewhat spicy too. You've been cooking spicy food recently.”

“There was almost no pepper there.”

“And it still turned out very tasty. Maybe you can share the recipe?”

“No way! Then you will stop dropping by.”

“You don’t think I have no reasons to visit you other than dinner, do you?”

“Well... I don’t disturb public order. I don't eat kids for lunch. I don’t slander my neighbors. What else is within your responsibility?”

“Fires, for example. A disgusting thing. In summer, the meadows often burn. Come, help yourself before they fill it up. And I'll wait.”

I poured myself a portion, threw in a communal pot a couple of peppers myself, and together with Arlo we walked away from the cauldron to the bench so as not to disturb anyone. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed church attire in the crowd. I wonder if Nora was staring at me or ogling the redhead now? She was probably not pleased that she wasn’t invited by him. And Arlo didn't seem to notice anything yet. Great.

“Well, is it okay? Not too spicy for you?”

“It'll do. But after my intervention, it probably became much more scalding.”

“What did you add there? I'm not familiar with this type.”

“Duvos pepper. Two full pods. Remy once asked for a spicy crepe with duvos powder. Well, I still had some spare pods lying around.”

“Then I’ll run to try it before it was diluted. Be right back.”

While he was pushing towards the cauldron and fiddling with the plates, Nora suddenly approached me. Surprise. And what for?

“Are you enjoying the holiday?”

“Yes, we don’t celebrate that one where I am from. A curious event. Did you want something?”

“I wanted to challenge you!”

“To challenge me? Such an honor! Aren't you afraid of denting your robe?”

“I mean snowballs,” she hesitated. “After the hot pot. On the field.”

“Don’t you think that you and I are in very unequal conditions?���

“Elaborate.”

“As far as I know, you are from a region where snow is common. But this year, I think, is the first time I’ve seen snow myself.”

Very flushed Arlo loomed behind Nora. I wonder how much did he manage to hear? And how will he react.

“That didn’t stop you from running with everyone else at the last festival.”

“It didn’t hurt to run. But it was inconvenient for you to hide.”

“And I wasn’t hiding at all! Everything according to the common rules by the way! Well, do you accept the challenge? Or are you afraid of embarrassing yourself?”

“Ha. No way I'll refuse! If you want a battle, you'll get it. Just don't cry too much.”

“Are you chatting, girls? Great. I hope you two will become good friends.”

“We'll see, honey.”

Nora shuddered. She chuckled and, looking like an insulted princess, headed towards the gate. What a spirit! I hope Arlo won't be too upset when I’ll make her spit snow. Again.

“What were you talking about?”

“Didn't you hear?”

“In outline. It's quite noisy here.”

“Nora wants a snowball fight with me. Is it time for me to run scared?”

“Just drop it. She's a nice girl. Try to get to know her better and you'll see.

“I will try. But I don't promise anything. Cause I think we have nothing in common, you know.” Well, except for the same crush I guess.“Do tell me what do you think of my secret ingredient? I remember Remy even cried. I didn’t get if it was from nostalgia, happiness or l from mucosal burn.”

“It’s a fine brew. You should at least have given a warning, you hooligan. Otherwise you will have to be detained for sabotage. The children, over there, are just spitting from it.”

“You understand that your flimsy cage won’t hold me, right?”

“It shouldn't. But the fine to the workshop’s rating and the ban on taking government commissions will do better.”

“Oh, so you’re a sly one! You’re looking too pleased for such serious threats,” feigning offense I lightly hit him on the shoulder with my fist.

“Let's go, people have already gathered on the field.”

Now it dawned on me why no one cleaned the scenery from the last feast. The decorations were the same, except that the children had built more snow fortifications around. Today's snowball battle had half the time allocated compared with the last feast. I need to use it wisely.

“Well, are you ready?” Nora inquired capriciously. “I can give you a ten-point head start.”

“I reject. Make sure you don't need an advantage yourself.”

“Redhead, do calm down. You'll scare away all the townspeople.”

“Fine point from a redhead yourself. Are you on offense or defense?”

“I hope to have time to play both parts. Besides, I promised you.”

This sly blockhead first went to the side of defense and throughout the battle looked after and protected Nora from my tried. So, are they dating or not? If they are dating, then why did he invite me? Lost in thought, I missed the hard hit. Ugh! Well, now you BOTH will hear from me.

“Keep your eyes open!” Arlo shouted, made a funny face and rolled into another shelter.

I took the opportunity and landed a fine projectile into his “little sister”. Hey, he didn’t have enough time to cover her this time. And she asked for it herself! I'll make her cry later. I dodged her retaliatory projectile without any problems, as well as the Arlo's attempts to provoke me into a rash attack. Changing my position, I took careful aim, pretending to be aiming at him. As I had planned, he deftly dodged, exposing my real target for my attack. Nora was left without a hat. And then that sly redhead got hit in the face. Victory is mine!

“Kid, is it just me, or are you too aggressive today?” Sam slapped me on the shoulder from behind.

“Blame the hot pepper. Don't worry, I'm cooling down quickly.”

“Ugh, I'm not playing against you anymore.” Shaking out the snow from under his jacket, Arlo said, coming closer. Nora was not with him, so I can hope that she will not dare to take revenge soon.

“You signed up for this yourself. There is sparring. There is the Land Run. There are snow-fights now too. What's left there?”

“Fishing.”

“Ugh, disgusting! Any other options?”

“Ghost hunt. And the harvest festival.”

“You don’t participate in that two. I have a hard time imagining your attempts to grow a champion pumpkin.”

“I can eat up a champion pumpkin. But I do not want to. It's too sweet so I'll have a terrible headache.”

“Guys, the second round is starting, we’re dividing into teams again,” reminded Sam, who had observed our skirmish from sidelines earlier.

I didn’t want to go to the defense of the “castle”. Arlo kept his promise and didn’t play against me either. Somehow, completely imperceptibly, the game turned into “escape from the redheads.” Almost our entire team dropped out early, and the two of us really gave our opponents a cold one by the collar. Take that! Quite suddenly, evening came and it was time for the annual group photo. The townspeople flocked back, gathering under the Wishing tree. Wait, why did Nora decide to stand next to me? Is she trying to befriend me now? Was it HE who advised her to stick up to me? Hey, my opinion is not taken into account? Okay, girl, just smile. Hmmm, well, my face got somewhat too ghastly. I just hope Arlo won’t lay this photo on his dresser.

“Sam, don't go away yet.”

“I wasn’t going to; I’ll just gather our team.”

“Okay, I'll wait by the swing. Let the crowd disperse a little.”

Taking advantage of the respite, I rummaged through my bag. Luckily, all the packages are in place, so I can hand them all over.

“Remy, this one for you. I think it will come in handy,” I handed my friend the package, through the packaging of which the fabric was visible.

“New jacket. Cool, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. And this is for you, open it quickly.”

Inside the small box I found brand new blue boxing gloves. Unable to contain my joy, I hugged my friend tightly.

“My turn! Here you go, little fella. It's your size, I checked twice. I know that your old one is completely worn out.”

“Wow! It's good that I didn't have time to order it myself. I'll be back in my favorite uniform jacket when it gets warmer. Now it’s your turn. It wasn't easy to get.” Sam pulled out a warm blanket with a picture of a horse from the bundle, beamed and hugged me.

“Thanks, kid! Remy, let's go. I'll help you with your knee, you’ve put a lot of strain on it today.”

“Arlo. This is for you. I thought you could use a replacement. This one should be sturdier and fit for a slightly heavier load,” I handed him a brand new arm stretcher with reinforced springs.

“You noticed then? I was just about to order a new one from you. Thank you! Now wait a minute.”

He began to rummage through the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Come closer. Here. Freeze,” he took a bright blue piece of fabric from the package.

Is this... Bandanna? Is it the same as his? While I looked at his gift in surprise and delight, Arlo carefully folded the bandanna in half and began tying it around my neck. He fiddled with it a little, straightened it, smoothed it out, and walked back a couple of steps to admire it. I'm sure I'm blushing A LOT right now. He carried it with him all day after all.

“What, Am I supposed to get hugs? Or did I guess wrong?”

“Why not? You guessed just right” I looked around, but no one seemed to be trampling around. So...OK.

“Then I’m waiting,” he spread his arms invitingly.

Gathering all of my courage, I rushed to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, reached out and quickly kissed him on the cheek, quietly saying “thank you.” Wow, his beard was so soft. And his herbal scent made me melt. Oh. Stunned by my determination, I just as quickly let him go, walked away to a decent distance and started running away, hiding my completely blushed face in my hood.

[theemperorsfeather]

A few weeks ago, working out a plan for the 3 weeks when we would be understaffed (and doubly understaffed for one of those weeks), I told me coworker/manager that I would feel ok taking on one particular project IF a solid first draft or two had been done by the time I had to take it over. What I meant was "I need the fucking team to fucking review and mark it up because I know these people and I do Not want to deal with Yet Another emergency rush during the last 2 days before the deadline" but I didn't put it like that.

Anyway, due to other work and technical problems that didn't happen. She did get a good first draft put together but it didn't get out for review until she'd been gone a couple days. Which in a sane workplace wouldn't matter. But the team didn't look at it for a couple days and then we got ANOTHER short-deadline project that they had to focus on and when I asked the project principal when I could expect markup he was like "we are super swamped I am sorry but I'll get you something by Monday morning." Spoiler alert: he didn't. No one is shocked at this turn of events.

Anyway! It is due on Tuesday! It's been 3 weeks since the initial kickoff meeting and while I did get a big chunk of missing text a week ago, there has still been no full review/markup! There are other decisions they need to make!

In a sane world, the project principal would review it and provide feedback on only the truly most vital elements, and just not bother adding extra pictures and fine-tuning things that are actually just fine, but history tells me that if I expect that my expectations will most like be crushed. So I expect a boatload of edits knowing there's a small chance I'll be pleasantly surprised.

We went over some of the status in the morning staff meeting and the other proposal person said we should set up a check-in meeting with the principal, "looks like you can do that Monday at 4." "I'm sorry, did you say 4 o'clock on Monday is his first free time?!" " . . . Yeah." Like we can really wait until then to get work done when it's due mid-afternoon on Tuesday.

So it looks like we're heading to the situation I feared, because asking for work to be done on a reasonable timeline is just fucking unreasonable. They won't touch the damn thing early in the process and then when new shit comes up out of nowhere well now there's really no time.

The good news is that on Monday we will again be fully staffed and I 100% hope to hand this fucking thing back to the person who started it. She'll probably be unhappy about some of the changes I made, but you know I was pretty unhappy with some of the ways she set it up (a manually typed table of contents??? In MY InDesign file??????? I think fucking not (I know why it was set up like that. I disagree that it is necessary) ) so I adjusted things to minimize the work I needed to do.

If for some reason I get stuck with this shit I may have to have a very blunt conversation about how very little physical tolerance I have for this kind of thing, and would they prefer me to call out sick pre-emptively for day so someone else -has to- do it, or risk having me run into the ground and then calling out sick for 1 to 3 days. Or would they rather have someone else do it?

[atlanticcanada]

Nova Scotia government says judge dismissed from inquiry had rejected offer for help

The Nova Scotia government says a judge dismissed from leading a high-profile inquiry had rejected an offer for help, even though he had asked for four extensions to allow him to complete his final report.

The office of the province's attorney general issued a statement Tuesday saying the now-retired provincial court judge, Warren Zimmer, was not given a fourth extension because the government had no reason to expect that agreeing to that request would yield a report.

As well, department spokesman Peter McLaughlin said that when Zimmer first asked for an extension after the inquiry's hearings concluded in April 2022, the provincial court judge promised to deliver the report in September 2022.

"There have been three extensions and no report has been issued," McLaughlin said in the statement. "Judge Zimmer was also offered additional resources to support him, which were declined."

Zimmer was appointed in July 2018 to lead a provincial fatality inquiry that investigated why Afghanistan war veteran Lionel Desmond killed three family members and himself in their rural Nova Scotia home in January 2017. The inquiry faced several delays, including an 11-month adjournment caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Zimmer did not respond to a request for an interview.

McLaughlin said the government could not impose a deadline on Zimmer because of the independence of the judiciary and, by extension, the fatality inquiry. The province's Fatalities Inquiries Act, however, permits the appointment of a new judge when an inquiry judge retires. That's what happened on June 30 when the government decided against extending Zimmer's term on the bench.

"Our only focus is to provide the families and all Nova Scotians with the answers they deserve as quickly as possible," McLaughlin said.

Last week, Premier Tim Houston said his government decided to replace the judge because his report was taking too long to complete.

On Monday, the chief judge of the provincial court, Pamela Williams, announced she had appointed provincial court Judge Paul Scovil to take over responsibility for the inquiry.

"Government did not make this decision lightly," McLaughlin said. "The (Desmond) family and all Nova Scotians have been waiting far too long for answers."

Two days after Houston's comments, Zimmer wrote to inquiry lawyers saying he had told the government he planned to hand in his report in August, and he said the decision to dismiss him was based on misinformation and ignorance.

"Suggesting that I have delayed the inquiry process, including the filing of a report, is offensive," Zimmer wrote in the letter, obtained by The Canadian Press. "It displays the minister's ignorance of the complexity of the process. This fatality inquiry report is not a news article to be read on the radio."

In the letter, Zimmer said he had already written 200 pages of the final report. He also pointed to the large volume of material he had to review. The inquiry heard from 70 witnesses during 56 days of hearings, which generated 10,447 pages of transcripts.

"The period of time from the date of counsel's final submissions in late April 2022 until June 30, 2023, is approximately 14 months," Zimmer's letter says. "The aforementioned volume of material before the Inquiry is enormous and cannot be abbreviated simply because the minister is of the view that it should be an easy task to complete."

Liberal Opposition Leader Zach Churchill has called for an investigation into how the government dealt with Zimmer, suggesting there may have been interference with an independent judicial body.

NDP critic Suzy Hansen said Attorney General Brad Johns should have allowed Zimmer to finish his work, given the fact the government had been told the report would be completed in about a month.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 11, 2023.

For the latest Nova Scotia news, visit our dedicated provincial page.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/KQl1XEM

[boldlyvoid]

Begin Again

Summary: Spencer's best friend at CalTech suddenly stopped talking to him when they were 14... he never thought this was why.

warnings: Pre Season 1, referenced/implied child sexual assault and statutory rape, grooming, inappropriate teacher/student relationships, pedophilia, arrests, angst with a happy ending. friends to Enemies to lovers.

Word Count: 2.7K

a/n: this is a heavy one, I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Enemies to Lovers fic challenge, I hope you like it

Spencer overhears her explaining to a teacher that she needs just one more day for an assignment because something personal happened. He’s always listening to her when she’s around him, absorbing her little facts and things about her because there was no way in hell she was going to talk to him herself.

When the teacher says no, he turns around to visibly see who it is she’s talking to in the back corner of the library. It’s their critical theory professor, which means she’s still having a hard time with the assignment he just finished. Part of him wants to gloat and piss her off, the rest of him feels terribly sorry because the look on her face is heartbreaking. She’s going through something and the teacher doesn’t give a shit.

“Are you really having personal issues or were you being irresponsible like the other girls in your class?” Professor Nelson’s tone is disgusting and it makes Spencer furious.

He calmly stands and walks over, “excuse me, Professor Nelson, would it be possible to extend the deadline? My mother’s nursing home called and I need to go to Vegas immediately and I’m worried I won't get it done on time.”

The teacher sighs, “fine, 3 extra days. If it’s not in by the end of the day on Monday you’re both getting zeros.”

He walks away and her sad face grows to fury, “what the fuck was that for?”

He sighs, “you’re welcome I guess.”

He begins to walk away when she grabs his wrist, “wait, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you deserve respect no matter what you think about me,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact and wishing she’d let go so he can leave.

“Is there something actually wrong with Diana? Is she okay?” Y/N’s voice is so genuine for once, he turns to look at her and gets lost in her eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” he nods, “she’s having an episode I don’t actually have to go but I thought it would help.”

“Okay, that’s kinda good?” She shrugs, awkward because this is the most they’ve talked about since midterms during their first semester.

They are the youngest people in the Mathematics Ph.D. program which obviously meant they were pared up for everything. From orientation to room assignments, they were always near each other. In the beginning, that was okay, they would hang out and do their homework together and the crush Spencer had on her was so huge, he thought she was going to be his wife one day.

He’s not really sure what happened. One day they’re best friends and the next she’s barely talking to him. She faded away from him slowly, ignoring him more and more until she eventually asked for a room change and ended up on a different floor than his, no longer his neighbour, study buddy or friend. For seemingly no reason at all.

He has tried for years to think about what he could have possibly done wrong. Their marks were almost identical, he respects her, he knew she was smarter than him, he would always Ofer to give her the win if they tied in everything, and yet something made her hate his guts enough to ignore him for 4 years straight.

But it’s not visible hatred. She has never talked about him behind his back, she doesn’t make snide remarks to cut him off in class. She’s never rolled her eyes or scoffed under her breath at one of his comments. She simply does everything in her power to not be close to him.

At first, he thought he was flirting too hard or he made her uncomfortable somehow. And then he thought maybe she knew about the crush and didn’t feel the same way. Then the self-consciousness came forth and made him believe he was ugly and a loser and she didn’t want to be caught dead around him.

He misses her more than he can explain. He wished he could just forget about her instead of constantly being hyper-aware of her. Accidentally staring, attempting to hold doors for her, he’s tried and tried when he should have just given up a long time ago. But he’s just so confused, he won't be able to stop till he knows what happened between them, and he’s willing to wait forever to learn.

“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?” He’s so scared but he wants to be there for her.

She nods, “my mom needs help planning a funeral and wants me home this week and they have shit internet so I don’t know what to do.” It's not very convincing. But he wants to believe her.

“When do you leave? I can help you finish it now before you even have to go?” He’s not sure why he’s asking, or why she’s being so nice.

“Do you want to come to my dorm?”

He takes a deep breath and thinks about it, “no, the last time I was in your room you stopped talking to me.”

She pulls him deeper into the stacks where no one can hear them, “I had to.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she doesn’t actually have an answer.

“Is it just a rivalry or did I hurt you somehow?” He’s so curious and if she’s giving him the time to talk he’s going to take it.

She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it again, she shrugs and waves her arms. “I was going through a lot, I still am, I can’t tell you and I knew if we stayed friends you’d find out and I can’t.”

She tears up and it scares him even more. “I’d never judge you? I would have been able to help…”

“No,” she shakes her head, “it wasn’t something that could just go away easily. Not with the word of two 14-year-olds over—“

She cuts herself off and shakes her head, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine, we’re fine. Maybe I’ll tell you when we graduate.”

“Would you still like some help?” He moves past it easily, “I can try and forget it and we can go right back to how it was? Like friends who moved away from each other?”

“I’ll take the help for this, but I can’t do regular hangouts again until we’re done school,” she whispers. “I’m probably going to get in trouble for just talking to you now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“No,” he finally stops letting it go. “If someone’s forcing you to hate me I think I deserve to know?”

“No,” her voice is louder than his now. “You’re not entitled to my life, we’re not fucking friends.”

“You made that very fucking clear, have fun at the funeral maybe you should have one for your heart next,” he’s never been that mad in his life. He turns and storms away, grabbing his things and leaving the library as fast as he can.

��

Her words circle in his head for hours until he’s dizzy with rage.

Who the fuck would get mad at her for talking to him, Spencer Reid, the other nerdy 18-year-old in the Ph.D. program. There was nothing about him that warranted this kind of behaviour. He’s not arrogant, full of himself, combative or aggressive. He does his own thing and minds his own business and leaves everyone alone.

The sentence that’s got him the angriest, however, is “it wasn’t something that could just go away easily. Not with the word of "two 14-year-olds over—“ over who? Or what? Someone was hurting her, might still be, and given everything he knows about, well, everything, he’s about to make it his mission to figure it out.

He remembers back as far as he can, overanalyzing every classmate, teacher, and staff member at the school, if they came into contact with Y/N and who saw her last before she stopped talking to him. She didn’t have a boyfriend, her parents weren’t over-controlling, someone he didn’t know was making her act like this.

He can’t sleep on it. He can’t just wait for her to tell him after graduation when it could all be too late. So he slips into his slippers and his housecoat and marches over to her side of campus. He bangs on her door, not caring that it's almost midnight, he needs to figure this out.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She panics and pulls him inside quickly. “Did anyone see you?”

“No… but I cam because I know someone is hurting you. I’m not stupid, I know what you meant and I am so angry thinking some asshole hurt you and made you cut ties with everyone just to keep you to themself.”

“I can’t tell you who he is,” she whispers.

“Y/N…”

“He was the reason I got in, he’s the reason I’m able to afford living here and,” her voice cracks then as she turns away and cries into the elbow of her shirt.

“Can I hug you?” He asks carefully as he walks up behind her.

She nods and turns to him, burying her face in his housecoat and sobbing as soon as his arms are tightly wrapped around her.

“I thought it was just a one-time thing… I thought if I let him do it then he’d move on to the next girl he requited and then I’d be fine but I just became his favourite.”

“We can go to the police,” he suggests. “They will believe us, and if they don’t I know someone a the FBI who can help you, his name is Jason and he catches serial rapists.”

She looks up at him with tears welled in her eyes, “you’d do that for me?”

He nods, “I’ve always wanted to get you back in my life.”

“Huh,” she laughs to herself. Smiling slightly and he wishes he knew why. “I wish I knew what other people thought about me, don’t you?”

Suddenly he wonders if she can tread his mind, and the insistent chanting continued in his brain.

“Yeah, I guess,” is what comes out but the inside is screaming: I love you, I love you so much, can you hear me? I’ve been in love with you since I was 14 and it’s killing me.

“I wish you always knew that I actually loved you, and I was only being mean to keep you away so that he wouldn’t get mad at me. He was worried you’d sleep with me too and figure it out and so he said I wasn’t even allowed to look at you, I didn’t want to cut ties Spencer, believe me, I really didn’t. I just don’t know what to do anymore?”

“Get dressed, I’ve got my car here, we can go right to the LA field office and I’ll call Gideon and we’ll get this guy. I promise, he’s got a paper trail that will let them arrest him and you will be okay,” he assures her. Rubbing her back before he kisses her forehead gently and she jumps back.

“Are you sure?”

He nods, “the second you tell them a crime has taken place, they can place you in protective custody and nothing can happen to you while they investigate.”

She cries even harder, “I should have come to you sooner.”

“Don’t blame yourself for any of this,” he attempts to soothe her, “please believe me when I say you’re strong and smart, you’re beautiful and wonderful and that man is doing to suffer once I get my hands on him.”

“Thank you,” she whispers again, pulling away enough to look up at him carefully. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Be my friend again?” He begs, “Don’t make me leave you alone again, I don’t think I could even if you made me.”

She nods with a small smile building, “okay, let me just put my things together.”

—

She sobs hysterically into Agent Morgan's arms as the other agent she just met yesterday, Hotch, escorts Professor Nelson out of the building in handcuffs. 15 counts of sexual misconduct, 23 counts of statutory rape, and way too many child pornography charges later… she’s finally free.

Agent Morgan pats her on the back, “you did a very brave thing here.”

“Then why does it feel like I can’t breathe,” she grips her chest as she pulls back.

“You’ve carried around a very heavy secret, it’s going to leave you tired for a while, but you’ll overcome it. I know you can,” he looks at her carefully. “I did.”

“How can I do what you do? How can I join the FBI and put shit head’s like Nelson behind bars forever?” She asks, “I want to keep doing this.”

It makes him smile, “Spencer’s coming to the academy next year, the applications are still open if you want to apply and I can try and pull some strings. We’d be lucky to have you both one day.”

She nods, “is it hard to move on after what we went through?”

“With a guy like Spencer?” He laughs, “not hard at all, he’s probably the best person you could ask for if he was willing to call Gideon for you.”

“He’s like a big hotshot isn’t he?”

“Yeah, all the crazy ones are,” Derek teases and she smiles again, right as Spencer walks in the room.

He sees her smile, the flirty and happy feeling in the air is prominent as he walks towards them but he just feels protective. “Derek.”

“Hey pretty boy,” he teases.

“Please don’t get used to calling me that,” he rolls his eyes.

“He’s not wrong,” Y/N smirks. “You’re very pretty.”

“And that’s my queue to leave you both now,” Derek teases, “uh, here’s my card if you need to talk. It’s a hard road after, you’re not alone.”

She takes it from him, “thank you. I will.”

He smiles one last time and then he’s gone.

“what was that all about?” Spencer asks, overly defensive.

“he has some experience with sexual assault, he was just being kind,” she replied. “Don’t think that because we’re close again you can display any of the traits Nelson did. You can’t make me choose who I talk to.”

“No, no no I would never,” Spencer worries, “no. I just, I guess I still feel like you hate me deep down and it's hard to just switch over to being friends.”

She sighs, “I know. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I wish I could go back in time and make sure you knew I didn’t hate you all this time.”

“That’s it?”

She nods with a deep sigh, “yeah… but we can’t change the past can we?”

“No, we can’t…” he whispers. “But we can pick what’s next?”

She steps into his space again and places a hand on his chest, looking up into his eyes softly, “I know we can’t just pick up where we left off, but I’d really like to try getting close to being your girlfriend again one day? I don’t think I’m ready for anything, I definitely need therapy… the school offered to pay for it so I don’t sue, but I need it and I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he shakes his head firmly, “you said you wished you knew what I was thinking 2 days ago… well I was thinking I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at orientation and I know for a fact I’m going to keep feeling this way forever.”

“Even knowing what happened?” She worries aloud, tears bubbling. “You don’t think I’m gross and broken and used up?”

His hands cup her face and he ensures she is looking in his eyes, “you are everything to me, no one can ever take your spark away. That’s a part of you that shines the brightest, but I’m in love with the shadowy bits too.”

She wraps herself around him and cries harder, “thank you. Thank you so much, Spencer.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just holds her there. Rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head, “I’d do anything for you.”

[cevans-seb]

Started with Coffee

Pairing: Actor Chris Evans x Author OC

Warning: none

Word Count: 2.8k

A/n: My first story on this account that involved gooeyness from Chris’ character and OC. Also to reiterate, all of my characters are P.O.C’s and plus size! 

Nikita stretches out her knots and kinks after staying in her cubicle longer than required.

“Nikita, I have to lock up soon.” Danny, the custodian, informed. 

“Gotcha Danny, I just need to finish these last few sentences.” 

“I’m serious. I went on my rounds four times since I last stopped by and I need to get home.” he ran his fingers through his graying hair. “My wife is already calling my phone as is.” he rambled while toting his mop bucket with him. 

This deadline is hanging over her head like a Jigsaw trap. Her boss, Stefan, bombarded her with an assignment involving her new story; the same story that has yet to be written by her. He requests that she submit a rough draft and have it on his desk Monday morning which is what leads her to an overnight cafe on a Saturday night. A caffeinated induced stroke of genius has her typing away on her laptop. Envisioning her character frolicking and roaming around green pastures, her protagonist being a wild-eyed, afro wearing scholar being unapologetically her. A happy soul that thrives off of peace and rainfall. Nikita was almost done with her final paragraph until her chair was bumped into, causing her coffee to spill onto her laptop. 

“No,no, no,” she kept repeating as her laptop died, completely erasing everything she typed. 

“I’m so sorry.” a man with a thick Boston accent apologized. 

Nikita whips her head to find the culprit and a sexy culprit he was. Standing a smooth 6’1, tattoo peeking out of his low v-neck shirt, and a beard she knew would tickle her face if she kissed him. He also looked like Chris Evans. 

“Wait, you’re Nikita Galstone? I’m a big fan of your work.” he beamed. “Chris Evans,” he held out his hand. 

Something similar to a screeching tire went off in her head when she realized this was actually Chris Evans. Chris Evans knew who she was and liked her work. He was also the one who ruined her latest story that probably was going to be a pain to rewrite. 

“Yeah, that's me. Nice meeting you, Mr. Evans.” 

“No need for formalities!” his chipper voice seemed to make this whole encounter less awkward. “Want me to replace your laptop? I have a habit of breaking my own stuff and I guess I’m just prone to destroying technology.” Chris confessed. 

Nikita laughs while shaking her head. 

“Nah there’s no need. Perks of being a writer: I have like two laptops and a PC at home, so I think I’ll be okay.” she sips the little remains of her coffee. “Well, how about I get you a new cup of coffee.” he bargained. “I feel bad that I ruined your laptop.” 

Chris scratched the back of his neck, nervous of her reply. 

“This was a Venti, Matcha latte.” gesturing towards her cup. “You can throw in a few cookies for the trouble.” she smirked. 

Chris agreed and they went up to the cashier. The barista, who was once starstruck, huffed as we approached her. She smacked her gum as Chris gave his order, barely paying him any attention when she lazily jotted them down. “I’ll be right back with her order.” her sickly sweet tone annoyed Nikita, but she ignored it when Chris peered down. He gave a genuine smile that made Nikita's heart race. 

“So, what were you writing?” he asked after paying and receiving his items. 

“A little short story. My boss has been grilling me for days now about it.” 

“What’s the story about?” 

“I don’t want to give too much away, but it’s about a black girl that lives as freely as she wants. A none wavering being that’s nomadic in her travels and thrives off of rushing winds dancing off her skin. She finds happiness in being alone. Self-solitude.” she answered with a fiery passion shown in her eyes, something Chris seemingly enjoyed seeing.

“Sounds good to me, do you have a release date yet?” he asked with piqued interest. 

“Nope, which is why he’s on my ass so much. I have been in a brain fog for a while now and my writing took a hit because of it.” she confessed. 

“I don’t want to overstep, but what has been bothering you?” 

“Life, mother asking when I’m coming home, dad wondering when I’m done with this fantasy and actually finding a ‘real’ job, and my friends just ringing me up for a link up.I never knew how hard it was to socialize. For so long, I thrived off of being by myself. I managed better that way, but I’ve come to realize it’s deeper than anything I’ve ever known. It’s nice to find balance, and I’m still struggling trying to find it.” 

Chris brows furrowed. He understood the frustration. 

“I get it. This is shit is never easy.”

“Yeah, sorry if I went too deep.” She apologized. 

“I asked, Nikita. I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty head of yours.” 

Nikita’s eyes bucked like a chameleon. Did he call her pretty? Was she reading too much into this? Why was she hearing wedding bells? 

“True, do you want a cookie?” She offered a macadamia nut cookie to him. Without thinking, he leaned down and bit into it, causing her to gasp. Chris sputtered an apology which made her giggle when he turned red. “ I guess I’m just overstepping boundaries today.” 

“ I don’t know. It’s kind of cute seeing you turn into a tomato. Give me very much Veggie Tales.”

“Hm, does that make you the cucumber because you were very green up there.”  he smirked. 

“Please I wasn’t jealous. Annoyed? Yes. Jealous? No.” she defended, crossing her sweater covered arms. 

“Eh, sounds like something a jealous person would say.”

“Jealous of what?” 

“You didn’t see the barista flirting?” he mocked, dramatically gasping. 

With an eye roll, you walked out of the cafe. Chris was quick in trailing you, guffawing behind you. 

“Let me call up the academy because you deserve an award for that performance.” she softly chuckled. 

“Do you want this night to end?” he rushed out.

Nikita stopped in her tracks at the question. On one hand, she needed to complete her story, but she was enjoying her time with him. 

“What’s one more hour?” she finalized. 

That hour became three with Nikita and Chris laughing and conversing about random topics one of them thought of. She tried a Boston hotdog while Chris tried lemon salt and hot fries-both of which decided that those foods weren’t for them. They were now lounging on a park bench sharing cotton candy. 

“No way you think Friend’s is a good show. Living Single is way better. No competition.” Nikita argued. 

“I didn’t say Friend’s was better, I said I couldn’t fairly judge because I never watched Living Single.” he pleaded his case.

“That's worst, Christopher!” she laughed. 

“Well, how about we watch it this weekend? I don’t have to fly out until next week.”  

Chris has been ballsy all night, and Nikita was utterly speechless. Chris Evans intruding in her 1 bedroom condo did not seem like the fantasy she imagined she would be in. Now, if she lived in a penthouse with butlers and maids galore. Maybe she would consider that more appropriate, but she doesn’t have that nor does she want that. Reality felt like it was settling in because she felt out of her element being around Chris. Her rose-colored glasses were shattered and seeping was this fluke of an encounter. A fluke. Something that came off a whim.

“So, what do you say?” 

Monday morning

“Good morning, everyone,” Nikita greeted, nursing a headache from doing another all-nighter. She finally completed her short story to her boss and spent the remainder of her weekend icing her sorrows. Chris' shattered face still plays vividly in her head after she rejected him. Her sour mood worsened when her landlord shut off all of the tenants power, so he could repair a faulty wiring he caused.  At least Chris didn’t have to see her living condition now, and he probably never will because she won’t see him again outside of her Disney + and AppleTv. Glancing at her planner, she noticed a newly added meeting planned for her today. 

“Danica, did you add this meeting?” Nikita inquired, her confusion stayed when Danica denied adding it. 

“It probably was Kiera. I saw her over here when I first came in.” she shrugged while sipping her green juice that smelled like rotten cabbage. 

Kiera. Stefan’s assistant was on Nikita’s desk and added an impromptu meeting that no one decided to inform her about.  Something was fishy and it wasn’t Danica’s breath. Nikita sighed before scrolling through the clusterfuck of emails she forgot to respond to last week, but one stood out to her. It was an email from a talent agency. Nikita didn’t know much about the entertainment industry and honestly never dwelled too much into the subject of it. She was blase towards it, but this email intrigued her. It came from a woman named Meghan. Meghan who seems to be the manager of Chris Evans and she seems pissed off in this email. 

Good Morning Ms.Galstone:

My name is Meghan Clarke and it has come to my attention that you and my client, Chris Robert Evans, had an interaction last weekend. An interaction that caught the attention of paparazzi. My phone has been blowing up non-stop with notifications from almost every news outlet and social media about your escapades. It would be with great interest from both parties that you promptly respond back to me, so we all can find a common resolution to this problem. 

Best Wishes,

Meghan C.

What the fuck? Was this even real? Panic soon seeped in as she frantically searched her name on Twitter and much to her dismay, Meghan was right. There she was. Plastered all over twitter with pictures of them eating cotton candy. She foolishly went through the comment and almost puked at some of them. They were either making edits of them or spewing obscenities that even she wouldn’t repeat to her worse enemy. The age gap seems to be the main topic. Some were questioning whether or not she was a sugar baby or if Chris groomed her. It wasn’t that bad of an age gap, but the grooming tweets made her very uncomfortable. So she would hate to see how Chris would react to them. She was literally 25 years old. When someone posted her socials under one of the tweets was when she shutted off her phone. 

“Fuck my life.” she mumbles with her head mushed to her desk. 

Nikita paled at the realization that she was now outside of her little bubble. People were perceiving her in a way she never thought was possible. Yeah, she has five New York best sellers, but it’s the work people love, not the person.  This whole thing has shifted her reality to something she doubts she can revert back to. There’s now a face people can see and right now that face is paired with Captain America. Her phone interrupts her mini break down. 

“Hey mama,” she answered in a hushed tone.

“Why did Aunt Felicia tell me you are dating a white boy?!” Nikita’s mom screeched into the phone. “I told you when you went up there to leave them boys alone but no you decided to not only ignore that, you go and date a white one.”  she could feel her mother’s icy glare through the phone, something she does when she’s five seconds away from beating Nikita with a clothes hanger. 

“I’m not dating him.” Jesus, she felt like she was in high school again. “We were just hanging out and paparazzi took pictures. It was all friendly.”

It was so surreal to her. Her dating Chris Evans is apparently headline worthy? 

“Mhm, well bring your lil friend down here with you the next time you visit. We want to meet him.” she hung before Nikita could tell her mom  that Chris and her weren’t even friends. 

“Ms.Galstone, my office right now.” Stefan was peeved. His jaw was clenched and he held that constipated look he always got when deadlines were being pushed. Nikita wished someone could save her from his stern staring, but alas she isn’t in a fantasy and her hero isn’t draped in shining armor. He was actually wearing a navy armani suit with a more clean cut facial hair. 

“Take a seat, Ms.Galstone.” he offered me a seat. “Mr.Evans and Mrs. Clarke have brought some pictures to my attention. Did you and Mr.Evans mingle with each other last weekend? Did you two get coffee, food, and cotton candy last Saturday? Please tell me these are all photoshopped by some shipper.” he clicked his tongue when Chris and Nikita stayed silent. 

It feels like being caught holding a lighter at the scene of a fire. A mantra of excuses flooded her brain but nothing came into fruition. Nothing but a quiet shell sitting next to another even more handsome quiet shell. 

“They aren’t fake. Chris already confirmed it with me. How he could be so careless is beyond me?”  

“It was all harmless. We were only hanging out, nothing more.” Nikita defended.

“Harmless or not, they found our publication and you know how I feel about bad press, Ms.Galstone.” he leg didn’t stop shaking with each word he spat out. “This could be bad for business,”

“Nikita didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of us did. We had a great Saturday doing what we wanted. I don’t regret any of it because it was harmless until paps decided to intrude on our lovely evening.” Chris rose from his chair, irritation clearly visible. “People can think what they want, but it isn’t fair to punish us for only living.” 

Meghan and Stefan both rested against his desk. They were in deep thought about this situation. A gentle hand brought Nikita out of her head when she turned to him, he already had a reassuring smile gracing his face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’ve had better Mondays.” she teased. “Not everyday I get paired with a celebrity, much less an A-lsiter.” 

“Hey at least it’s with me and not someone like Pete Davison.”

“I mean I heard Pete was slanging some d-” 

“We decided what we are going to do about this!” Meghan bellowed. “I’ll have them write this off as old friends catching up.” 

“Old friends? We are 16 years apart where in life outside of now would this make sense?” Chris questioned. “We’re not doing that. You’re not gonna make me look like a perv.” 

“I agree. Why can’t we be honest and say we met at the coffee bar. It’s nothing to it.” Nikita  added.  

“Because that still leaves this window for dating rumors.” 

“I don’t care about dating rumors.” Chris shrugged. “I’ve had a plethora  of them and they aren’t slowing down. What’s one more?” 

“This one would be different.” Stefan interjected. 

This lost us. Collectively, Chris and Nikita raised their eyebrows quizzically. Nikita was scared to ask because she had an idea on what made this situation different. It was a hunch but Chris Evans didn’t get a lot of rumors dating a black woman. He even less gets rumors about dating a plus size woman. Nikita was 2 for 2. 

“And how the fuck is this different?” It was the first time she actually heard Chris curse since meeting him. 

“C’mon Mr.Evans, you seem like a man who has a particular type. A very blonde hair, blue eyed type if you get me.” Stefan nudged his shoulder. 

“None of my exes were blonde nor did they have blue eyes. My type is someone who knows what they want in life and grabs it. A dreamer who dreams of a nomadic lifestyle and loves silence, rain, someone who’s into self-solitude.” This made Nikita avert her eyes from the burly man as he rehashed her short story to describe his type. She was his type. Nikita Galstone was Chris Evans’ type. 

“ This is getting us nowhere!” Meghan exasperated. “Can you two just promise us to keep whatever this is lowkey? We don’t want any more paparazzi sleethering their way into this and blowing this out of proportion.” 

We both agreed. Stefan and Meghan left them alone in his office. Chris let out an exhausted breath while Nikita still had stars blinding her vision. She was his type and essentially told his manager and her boss that he liked her. Why did she reject him again? This man was amazing, almost like he was written by a minority woman.- a black, minority woman. 

“So,” she drawled. “You get a lot of dating rumors.” 

“Yep,” 

“Hypothetically, how many would you say you get a day?”

“More than I can see, Nikita. Although, none of them will ever be true.” 

“Is there some you want to be true?” 

He gave a soft smile and hunch. 

“Maybe one, it was one with this beautiful author that caught my attention at a cafe. I accidentally spilled coffee on her laptop though”

[my-soul-sings]

kiss the girl: ch 4

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3 | ch 4

***

Ask her out to dinner. 

Artem Wing rarely gets stressed. Even when he has a trial the next day and it’s before the highest appellate court, he’s the definition of ‘calm’.

But right now, he’s freaking out.

It’s not that he doesn’t know how to ask a woman out to dinner. Of course he’s had dinner with her before—and they weren’t always team dinners.

The procedure is simple enough. Step one, ask her if she’s free that night. Or any night, for that matter. Step two, ask if she would like to have dinner with him. It’s an easy two-step process that anyone can accomplish.

Except, Artem didn’t factor in a possible third step: what to do when she is “suddenly unable to make it for dinner” with him not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

The first time it happened, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so he insisted that she leave the office early to get some rest, and cancelled their dinner plans for the evening.

The second time it happened, she said she had forgotten about a family dinner that clashed with their dinner plans. Artem had assured her that they could call a rain check, and that she should attend the family dinner to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday.

By the third time, Artem thought things would finally go his way. But alas, she was hauled away by none other than his NXX colleague, Vyn, who needed her assistance urgently with some pick-up artist case. He had offered to go with her, but she insisted that she could handle the case herself. And so, he had no choice but to leave her be, lest she thought that he didn’t have faith in her abilities.

All things considered, Artem is disheartened, to say the least. Having their dinner plans cancelled three times in a row can’t be a coincidence—maybe she just doesn’t want to have dinner with him, but is too scared of him to admit it outright. And it’s probably because he’s her boss, which is a position that he’s rapidly growing to hate. He wishes they could just be normal colleagues. Maybe then he won’t feel so awkward every time he wants to make a move but doesn’t want to come across as pressuring her inappropriately.

Then again, if they were normal colleagues, they probably wouldn’t work as closely as they do now… so Artem is torn on the issue. But that’s beside the point.

The point is, he doesn’t know what to do. Celestine would say that he should just try again, which he could do, but he should probably wait for a while before asking her again. As for how long he should wait, he’s not sure. But he was looking forward to dinner so much that the disappointment has been weighing him down for the past few days.

Deciding he needs some air to clear his head, Artem gets out of his office, intending to get some coffee from the pantry. As Celestine has reminded him many times, he has a working coffee machine in his office. His reply every time is that the capsules that he wants are in the pantry… and he just so happens to forget to take some to his office with every trip he makes.

Out of habit, Artem takes his phone to clear some notifications that have been accumulating since morning. And as he busies himself with replying to client messages and reading some new messages in the NXX chat, he overhears Kiki asking her if she wants to have dinner together. It’s a Friday night, and it’s already five minutes past the time everyone can knock off.

Her response, however, is noticeably sullen compared to her usual cheeriness. “I think I’ll be staying late tonight… I have two sets of written submissions to finish by Monday and I’ve barely started.”

It doesn’t take long for Artem to recall that those were the subs he had assigned to her at the start of the week. They’re due Monday… The other partners might have given her some work to do during the week, which is why she’s running tight on schedule.

He would ask if she wants him to assign one set to someone else to lighten her load, but Artem already knows from experience that she won’t have that. In fact, she’ll interpret it as him thinking she’s not competent enough to finish the work she’d been given and probably get upset—both with him and with herself.

“Then, aren’t you going to eat?” Kiki presses.

“I’ll eat later; I’m not hungry right now. Don’t worry about me, you should go ahead first. See you Monday!”

As Artem slowly returns to his office with a cup of coffee in hand and pretending to be engrossed in fiddling with his phone, he wonders if maybe there is a way to have dinner with her after all.

***

You’re stressed. The looming deadline of the coming Monday and the five cups of coffee you’ve had since morning are contributing to your high-strung nerves, and your hyper-active fingers as you furiously type away at the keyboard. Hopefully you can finish one sub tonight, and then you can do the other one over the weekend at home.

You’re so caught up in research and figuring out how to condense the facts of the extremely complicated facts of this darn case into a neat, concise summary, that you don’t realise that someone has been standing behind you for a while until he clears his throat and calls your name.

With a start, you jerk your head over your shoulder, not expecting anyone else to be in the office at this time—oh, it’s almost 8pm already—on a Friday night.

But here Artem is, holding up a few plastic bags and wearing a smile that isn’t helpful for your already wired heart. Didn’t he already leave the office for the day? And—how long has he been staring at your screen? Has he been watching you struggle over writing a summary of the facts?

He must think you’re an idiot now.

If he does though, he doesn’t show any sign of it. “You haven’t had dinner, right?” is all he asks.

“Dinner?” You take a few seconds to recall whether you’ve eaten or not, and then shake your head with a sheepish smile. “Right. I forgot.”

“I bought some sushi. You’ll focus better if you’re not hungry.”

You glance back at your screen, and even though you’d rather continue working, you reluctantly agree. Maybe you’ll be able to write this better after a short break.

“You’re right. Thanks.” You stand up, removing your glasses and rubbing your tired eyes. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of eating with you… if you don’t mind.”

You can’t help but smile. You’ve had to cancel dinner plans with Artem three times now, and you had  thought he would be offended or take it as a rejection in some way. You had actually been planning on asking him out to dinner next week, after clearing all your urgent tasks, to make up for everything. But here he is, offering dinner for the fourth time, accommodating your schedule and even buying sushi from your favorite sushi place. How did he even know?

“Of course I don’t mind! I just thought you’d want to eat with someone else on a Friday night, instead of eating take-out in the office.”

“I’d say eating dinner with you isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

Lawyers and their double-negatives. Now you can’t tell if this counts as Artem flirting with you. Not sure how else to respond, you settle for a generic “thank you” before taking one of the bags from him so that he isn’t carrying everything alone. “Let’s set it up in the pantry.”

He nods, allowing you to take the lead and following behind you towards the pantry. You hear the rustle of the plastic bags, his footsteps, and a small but thrilled "yes” that he whispers under his breath. It’s so low and soft that you almost mistake it for the sound of the plastic bags swinging by your side.

You should probably pretend you didn’t hear that, but still, you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you. The effort that he’s been putting in for the past few weeks hasn’t escaped your notice at all. And considering how much Artem has been looking out for you lately, maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you can do for Artem too.

***

A/N: Thanks for all the support guys, i've been blown away by the encouraging comments and i'm so glad to know that you enjoy this story :)

[missfangirll]

congrats on the follower milestone!! :D Can I request post-canon established relationship weilan being protective about each other? <3

I am so very sorry it took so long, but here you go 🥰

Also, I think this counts as my @guardianbingo square I3, Rescue 😁

- - - - -

Fandom: Guardian Rating: General Relationship: Shen Wei / Zhao Yunlan Tags: fluff, established relationship, protecting each other Words: 3116 Summary: Even with the final battle won and the world saved, sometimes you still need to save the ones you love - even if it is from things unexpected.

Read on AO3

- - - - -

silver clouds with grey linings

- 1 -

When it rains, it pours.

Zhao Yunlan had always thought this saying to be an exaggeration, but right now he was not so sure anymore. This week had been one from hell, one of the worst in his life, the battle with Ye Zun and catching Shen Wei in the kitchen with a knife to his wrist included. (Though not watching Shen Wei die, or almost die, that would forever be material for his worst nightmares.)

Still, this week had been a catastrophe from the start. On Monday, he had forgotten the deadline he had for sending in the yearly budget plans, and had it not been for Zhu Hong’s reminder he wouldn’t have sent them at all instead of seventeen minutes before midnight. Then a call had disturbed him after only two hours of fitful slumber on one of the SID couches—he hadn’t bothered to go home after the budget fiasco and just crashed where he was—to alert him to a Dixingren running amok in one of the industrial areas of Dragon City, flattening warehouses and factory complexes. He had downed an entirely too hot and too bitter mug of coffee and run out to the jeep, his team on his heels. They had managed to corner the culprit—a teenager by the looks of it, and quite terrified by the advancing SWAT team in full riot gear. Zhao Yunlan had managed to calm the kid down, but only barely, until Shen Wei arrived in a flurry of dark robes and dark energy and had taken the kid away to have Dixing deal with him.

Zhao Yunlan had been about to exhale in relief when his phone rang, the new emergency sending him to the opposite side of the city.

It had only worsened after this until Friday, new cases and new emergencies every four hours, and by the end of it all of them were barely able to think straight. When they finally had finished all paperwork and closed any open case, and since there hadn’t been a new call for more than half a day, Zhao Yunlan had sent his whole team home and closed the SID for the evening, thinking that any disaster could wait until the next morning.

He was about to lock the door behind him to head home, when his phone rang. He stilled for a moment, pondering if he really had to take the call, but eventually his sense of duty won over. With a sigh, he reached for the phone and almost changed his mind when he saw the number.

“What?”

“Is that any way to greet his father,” Zhao Xinci said with a disdainful huff. 

Zhao Yunlan didn’t even have the energy to give a snarky reply. “What do you want?”, he asked tiredly.

His father huffed again. “I take it you forgot you were supposed to come over tonight, then?”

Zhao Yunlan winced, then grimaced. He really had forgotten, but a) he wasn’t going to tell his dad and b) he really had no energy to explain why he wasn’t able to come today.

With a sigh, he relented. “I had a lot to do the last few days. Give me an hour.” 

Another huff. “Bring that professor of yours,” Zhao Xinci said with a tone Zhao Yunlan couldn’t quite interpret. “You’re always better company when he is around.”

Before Zhao Yunlan could say anything, his father had ended the call. He stared at his phone for a while, then sighed and turned around, stepping back into the SID to call Shen Wei and ask him to open a portal.

When they arrived at his father’s residence fifty-seven minutes later, Zhao Yunlan didn’t feel any better, despite the shower he’d had at the apartment. He still was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed, preferably with Shen Wei at his side, and sleep for a week. But he had promised Shen Wei to make an effort with his father, and the monthly dinner dates had been one part of it. So far they hadn’t tried to murder each other, but Zhao Yunlan wasn’t sure how much of this was thanks to Zhang Shi. Today, he supposed, was not going to be any better, given the state he was in, but at least he had Shen Wei with him, who had promised to take him back home when requested, no questions asked.

So when he stepped into the living room, he already had resolutely ignored two of Zhao Xinci’s comments and was about to breathe away a third. Giving his father a dishonest smile, he sat down at the table in his usual spot, ignoring the familiar pang of loss and longing that always overcame him when he looked at his mother’s empty chair. Not today, he thought, willing down the bitter lump in his throat, squeezing Shen Wei’s hand under the table.

His father didn’t seem to notice any of it, immersed in reminiscing about a long past SID case he had overseen. Zhao Yunlan hadn’t been paying attention, when Zhao Xinci suddenly paused, looking at him with a calculating gaze.

“Although,” he said, as if continuing a thought, “if I had been the one in charge of that case you had earlier this week, the one with the destroyed buildings...” He paused and shrugged. “Well, I’m sure there would have been less collateral damage.”

He took a sip of his tea, looking at his son over the rim of the cup, and Zhao Yunlan felt something snap. His hands cramped on his thighs, his jaw ached with how much he clenched his teeth, but before he could say anything, Shen Wei stood up from his seat next to him.

“Director Zhao,” he said icily, and Zhao Yunlan felt a sudden surge of dark energy surrounding him, like an electricity-laden storm cloud, “I think there is no need to criticise Chief Zhao’s decisions regarding any SID work.”

“All I’m saying is—,” Zhao Xinci began, only to be interrupted by Shen Wei, much to Zhao Yunlan’s surprise.

“I am aware of what you are trying to say, Director,” this time the title sounded like an insult, “and I advise you not to say it.” 

Zhao Yunlan blinked at Shen Wei who stood next to him, tall like a tree, chin raised in a clear challenge, every inch the war general he had been so long ago. Sometimes he forgot that behind the meek professor with his gentle smiles and innocent glasses hid a ruler of Dixing with powers that could flatten an entire city block if he so wished. He had commanded soldiers in battle, had lost comrades and allies and friends, had faced pain and destruction to save this world, to protect Zhao Yunlan, and apparently he wasn’t going to stop doing that, even if it only was from his father’s disapproval.

Zhao Xinci blinked a few times, then clamped his mouth shut, reaching for the teapot without meeting anyone’s gaze. Under the table, Zhao Yunlan reached a hand towards Shen Wei’s knee and squeezed gently, trying to convey his thanks and that this wasn’t necessary, he had survived harsher barbs than this, but Shen Wei apparently wasn’t finished. He gave Zhao Xinci another murderous glance, then added, “It is not of your business, but since I have been there during the case you were referring to, I can assure you that nothing could have been done to avoid more damage. In fact, it is only thanks to Chief Zhao that the culprit was found so quickly and surrendered within twenty minutes.” He moved a bit closer to Zhao Yunlan who was still holding his knee. “If you don’t have anything to add, Director, we will take our leave now, since it has been a long week and I am not willing to endure more of your... insights.” He gave a single jerky nod and turned towards Zhao Yunlan, who was still watching him in awe.

“Let’s go home, Yunlan,” he said, tone soft and gentle, and Zhao Yunlan could only nod.

- 2 -

It isn’t worth it, Shen Wei had to remind himself as he, again, caught himself wondering if he would get away with murdering the Regent. His role in the new Dixing government came with a lot more duties than he had expected, but he wasn’t one to complain, and besides that he had always found that there should have been more emphasis on the envoy part in his title, but this was decidedly not what he had in mind.

Not at all, he thought grimly, as he shifted in the uncomfortable stone chair in the palace’s main hall. The Regent had called in a meeting, the fourth in as many days, and even Shen Wei’s famed patience was running thin. There was nothing new to discuss, no important matters that had come up, no decisions that needed the approval of the whole council. It was, Shen Wei suspected, only a maneuver of the Regent to throw his weight around a bit, to remind them that he still was the one in charge, despite their attempts to establish a working council. (In all honesty, Shen Wei hadn’t expected the council to be fully functioning after a week, he had too much experience with that sort of thing, but the petty arguments and subtle insults were a pain to endure, and after months of trying to settle their disputes his nerves were frayed.)

He shifted again, the movement catching the eye of the Regent who was in the middle of a tirade about the state of the city buildings, but interrupted himself to stare at Shen Wei with a disapproving look. 

“If I am boring Hei Pao Shi,” he sneered, “maybe the esteemed Envoy wants to add his own thoughts about the matter.”

Shen Wei had to suppress a groan at the smug tone and forced his face into what he hoped was an amiable smile. “Oh, on the contrary, I was just thinking about a way we could ensure that the renovations in the city don’t experience a lack of materials and come to a standstill.” He paused, looking at the other council members who looked as tired as he felt. “But far be it from me to assume responsibilities that are not mine. I am very sure the esteemed Regent is more than capable of dealing with these minor issues. On that note,” he added, “I apologise, but I have urgent matters to tend to in Haixing.” With a curt bow he got up and opened a portal, hoping it didn’t look like an attempt to flee.

When the portal closed behind him, he barely managed to take off his shoes and wave his robes away, before he collapsed face down onto the living room couch with a deep groan.

Hearing that, Zhao Yunlan, having come from the kitchen to give him a welcome kiss, let out a wry huff. “Another meeting?”, he asked in sympathy and Shen Wei groaned into the pillow in response. Zhao Yunlan carefully sat down next to him, chuckling softly. 

“You know you don’t have to listen to them,” he said with a hint of mischief in his voice, “your brother has offered on more than one occasion to deal with the Regent, and as much as I disagree with his methods normally, I think he has a point.”

Shen Wei sighed, then burrowed deeper into the pillow. He would never admit that to either Zhao Yunlan or Ye Zun, but he had entertained that thought more than once in the last week, always coming to the conclusion that the paperwork would be overwhelming, and also that he didn’t like the thought of any of the other council members taking his place.

He shook his head slightly, then rolled over to look at Zhao Yunlan. “Thank you,” he said quietly, giving a small smile, and Zhao Yunlan huffed.

“What for,” he replied, “I didn’t do anything helpful, I should...” He trailed off, staring at Shen Wei, his eyebrows raising. Shen Wei, sensing impending doom, sat up.

“What—,” he began, but Zhao Yunlan interrupted the question by leaning in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Nothing,” he said as he pulled back, “I just had an idea.”

Shen Wei did his best to pry that idea out of Zhao Yunlan, but the other man was as stubborn as a mule, and when he set his mind on something, he would see it through, much to Shen Wei’s occasional chagrin. He didn’t have much time to ponder it, though, because not even an hour after he had returned home, a smoke messenger informed him that there was a meeting arranged for the next day that he was invited to attend. Shen Wei had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the phrasing, but Zhao Yunlan was disturbingly calm and composed when he told him, only patting his shoulder and nodding as if in agreement.

The next day, Shen Wei felt slightly apprehensive when he took his usual seat in the large dimly-lit hall. Zhao Yunlan had left earlier to go to the SID, despite it being his day off, and he’d had a strange look in his eyes when he kissed him goodbye and wished him a productive day.

However, nothing seemed out of the ordinary when he looked around, so he settled into the uncomfortable seat, bracing himself for yet another wasted day, when the door behind him flew open with a thump. All heads turned towards the intruder, who revealed himself to be none other than—Zhao Yunlan, in one of Ye Zun’s more festive Dixing robes. Shen Wei blinked a few times, too stunned to react to the cheeky grin and the wink the man directed at him, then sauntered over to plop down next to Shen Wei, stretching his legs under the massive stone table.

Into the silence, the Regent cleared his throat. “Ah, Lord Guardian, what an honour to have you here. It’s just, err, that we weren’t expecting you and the topics we will discuss today might not interest you.”

Next to him, Shen Wei heard Zhao Yunlan mutter something that sounded like ‘Spanish inquisition’, then he replied louder, “I really appreciate your concern, but I was under the impression there would be more pressing matters to discuss, since Hei Pao Shi’s presence is required as well.”

The Regent coughed lightly, visibly trying to regain his composure. “But,” he stammered, “but Hei Pao Shi is Dixingren, and thus he—”

“And I am Lord Guardian and if the matter is important enough to concern Hei Pao Shi, then it is important enough to concern me as well,” he said with finality, leaning back in his chair.

Shen Wei saw how the Regent hesitated, then relented. “If you so wish, Lord Guardian,” he said meekly, and Zhao Yunlan gave a gracious nod.

“Then let us begin.”

Surprisingly, Zhao Yunlan’s presence really seemed to spur the other council members into efficiency, because they didn’t start their usual war of insults but focussed solely on the discussion at hand, so much in fact that Shen Wei began to hope for an early finish, when they arrived at the Regent’s favourite topic, the destruction of the Dixing palace during the final battle with Ye Zun. The renovations hadn’t been as fast as he apparently had expected, also due to the lack of workers, architects, and materials in general, and he didn’t miss any opportunity to voice his discontent with this fact.

As always, he started with lamenting the current state of the building, when his accusations suddenly turned towards Shen Wei.

“All of this,” he gestured towards the palace’s patched roof and shattered pillars, “wouldn’t have happened if not for that explosion Hei Pao Shi deemed appropriate to—”

He interrupted himself when Zhao Yunlan raised a hand.

“Pardon me,” he said quietly, only Shen Wei heard the dangerous calmness in his tone, “I didn’t quite get that, could you elaborate what you mean by ‘deemed appropriate’?”

The Regent had gained momentum over the last hours, not being interrupted by anyone and had apparently also forgotten that he had wanted to be respectful to Zhao Yunlan, because he answered with a sneer, “Well, there is no denying it that if Hei Pao Shi hadn’t used all that energy to—”

“To save your asses,” Zhao Yunlan said coldly, while the rest of the council gasped in unison.

“I... We...,” the Regent tried, but Zhao Yunlan didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t recall you doing anything to stop Ye Zun,” he said, still very calm, and the council members averted their eyes. It was a sore spot that none of them had had the means or the will to go against Ye Zun when it counted, and even after his rehabilitation that was a topic best not broached. Still, Zhao Yunlan seemingly had no qualms to do just that. 

He pointed at the people sitting across from him, one after the other, and said, “In fact, I don’t recall seeing any of you doing anything helpful when we were trying to save Dixing. Hell, you didn’t even offer secret support, you were too busy getting on Ye Zun’s good side, weren’t you?” The more he spoke, the more uncomfortable the men and women around them looked, most of all the Regent, whose face had turned a ghastly green.

“I will not tolerate—,” he began, but it was futile, Zhao Yunlan steamrolled over his objection like he had waited for that moment.

“What I will not tolerate,” he said frostily, “is you slandering the one who saved two worlds, my whole team, and even his brother with that ‘inappropriate’ explosion. What I will not tolerate is making him listen to your pointless debating that only serves to boost your own egos while he could be doing more important things.” He nodded to Shen Wei, then got to his feet. “Which is what we will be doing now, so please excuse us. And,” he added with a look of killing intent at the Regent, “I will attend the next meeting as well, and if I find the matters to be not worthy of our time...”

He trailed off, the rest of the threat hanging in the room. Suppressing a smile, Shen Wei turned around to open a portal.

When they had stepped into their living room, Zhao Yunlan grinned at him. Shen Wei laughed.

“More important matters?”

Zhao Yunlan beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “immensely important. You gotta make me dinner, I’m starving.”

Shen Wei laughed again, leaning over to kiss him, then went into the kitchen.

[smol-and-grumpy]

What I Want Most - One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: NSFW, mostly daddy kink, rough oral, praise kink, rough sex, one-night stand to enemies to lovers (is that a trope?)

Word Count: 6840 (whoops!)

A/N: Apparently, I can not write pwp anymore. This should have been a one shot but it ended up a mini series. Sorry.

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

“C’mon, man!” Gabe urges, his hand comes up to pat Dean’s padded shoulder. 

He’s still in his suit, having gone into work because of that damn project. The deadline is on Monday, and that’s also the day that the execs want to talk to him. He still doesn’t know what’s it about, fears the worst. Maybe he has a reason to? Dean doesn’t know why they would fire him, though. Since he had the news that they wanted to talk to him on Monday, he’s been working harder, knelt himself deeper into the workload, was barely home and if he did, it was just to sleep, only to get up and go to work before dawn. 

It’s crazy. It really is, because it’s not even his dream job but he still needs it. At least until Sam moves over here in a couple of weeks. So, the goal is to hold on to this job for as long as Dean can.

Gabe has picked him up from work, complaining that Dean hasn’t got any time for drinks anymore. Little does Gabe know that he’s been drinking himself to sleep every night lately. And Gabe’s fucking persistent. He was waiting outside the building until Dean had come out and now he coerced him into standing in line for a hip club that has the reputation for debauchery and illegality. It’s just a rumor. Dean’s never been here, but Gabe apparently had.

“This better be good, Gabe,” Dean grits his teeth. The wind is chilly tonight, but for most of the people in the queue, especially women, there's apparently no reason to wear more clothes. 

“It will be, once we get in,” His friend says and rights his suit. It’s weird to see Gabe in a suit, a rare sight, but he wore it because suits always get you into things in the city, “There’s going to be so many girls, huh?” Gabe elbows him in the ribs, “Maybe you can find one to help you to unwind,”

They’re next in line and Dean moves up with Gabe, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. Well, Gabe is not really wrong. It has been a while since he scored, even longer when he had something steady. It’s not that Dean didn’t want to. It’s more like he can’t find the time. His last relationship, or what felt like it, was over a year ago, and already then, she ghosted him because Dean ghosted her first. Not deliberately, though, he was just busy. And business is a constant lately.

Maybe Gabe is right, Dean wouldn’t mind finding someone tonight. It would be welcoming to take off the edge, forget the looming Monday for a couple of hours. 

They are finally at the front of the queue, and the doorman ushers them through the open door. As soon as they enter the building, the bass of the music hits him. The bass vibrates through his body, traveling up his spine. 

There are plenty of girls, scantily clad, dancing and laughing, waiting for someone to pick them up and buy them a drink. He wonders if he’ll find one he likes. He’s picky, doesn’t want to hook up for the sake of hooking up, if that makes sense. Dean kind of hopes he’d find one with a buried daddy issue, which is really not hard to find in the city, he just needs to be alert and read their body language.

He follows Gabe across the dance floor as the man shoulders his way through to the bar, finds a spot and plants himself there at the counter, making himself bigger than he really is. Dean joins him, smirks proudly at his friend as he orders them a drink. It’s him paying, like he always does with Gabe. Gabe is a good friend but Dean still earns more so that’s the least he can do for what Gabe’s doing for him, being there whenever Dean needs a friend.

While they wait for their drinks, Gabe looks around, eyes scanning the dance floor. Dean watches him at first, watches him smile at something, and turns his head to look at the source that produces the smile on Gabe’s face. 

That little shit has already found his prey. 

“Don’t wait up for me, I guess.” Gabe looks back to Dean and takes his drink, walks across the dance floor to dance with a girl who’s more than willing to share the drink with Gabe. 

Dean turns back to the bar, his elbows braced on the counter as she shakes his head and chuckles. 

Suddenly, there’s a voice beside him and it seems like it’s talking to him.

“Hey, big guy, can you move a little?”

He tilts his head to look at the woman, who appears to be alone. Dean’s interest is piqued. 

“Sure, sweetheart,” He moves a couple of inches to the left, gives her room to press herself against the counter. 

She smiles, leans herself over the top to talk to the tender, her tits squashed on the bar top. While the bartender prepares her drink, she’s still leaning over the counter but she turns to him with a smile. With the tilt of her head and body, he can see that her tits almost spill out. Dean can’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You come here often?” He asks with a crooked smile. 

“Nah,” She smiles back, “I just moved here today, starting a new job on Monday. Just needed a break from unpacking so a friend brought me here. You?”

“First time,” Dean replies, “Where’s your friend?”

“She went to the back,” She says, “Apparently there are rooms?”

Dean shrugs, “I wouldn’t know.” With his next breath, he adds, “Names Dean, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean, I’m Y/N,”

When her drink arrives, a seat at the bar becomes available and Dean urges her to sit down. She does, albeit reluctantly. While she sits, her skirt rides up a little, exposing the tender flesh of her thighs. He’d like to touch, he really does, but Dean has to be clever about it. 

They are talking while Dean orders more drinks.

“What about your parents?” He asks after a while of talking. He knows that she’s been living in another city, works in the same field as he does, came here for a job but when Dean asked where she’s working, she wouldn’t say and that’s a good girl because people can’t be trusted, not even him. She just finished talking about her one sibling whom she doesn’t talk to anymore. It’s different for him and Sammy. 

“Just my mom, I never knew my dad,”

Yahtzee.

They keep on talking and Dean gets bolder, stands beside her at first with an arm around her waist. He rubs circles on her back with his thumb and she smiles at him, laughs at his stupid jokes too. 

After one more drink, she’s scrambling out of her seat and stands back at the bar, and he should be wondering why but he isn’t. He just knows. She presses her body against the counter and Dean cages her in from behind, lowers his mouth to her ear, places a soft kiss there that makes her shudder noticeably. He chuckles low. 

“You wanna come back to mine?” He whispers lower than he chuckled out before, noses behind her ear and moves lower, plants little kisses down her neck, making her arch her back, driving her sweet ass against his crotch. He’s semi-hard from thinking of what he’ll do to her, only getting harder with the rubbing. 

“You want that?”

“Yeah,” Dean darts out his tongue, swirls it around her earlobe and there’s an actual moan. 

His right hand travels down the front of her body, fingers span wide on her stomach and it dips lower. He watches her breath hitch in her throat, feels her shivering. 

“What would you do to me, huh?” 

Instead of answering right away, Dean’s hand goes further down, hitches the seam of her skirt up a little, teases the tip of his middle finger along her clothed pussy. 

“Oh god,” She groans and throws her head back to rest on his chest while her back is still arched. 

He chuckles, “Call me Dean,”

His hand goes further down, and she parts her legs a little. A fucking good girl, indeed. He rubs long her lace panties, feels the fabric damp. He gets bolder too, his fingers hook into the crotch of her panties, pulling it aside. 

It’s skin on skin and Dean lets out an audible groan at the wetness he feels, bites into the junction of her shoulder where it meets her neck. It prompts her to drive her ass into him harder. 

“You’re fucking soaked, baby, is that because of me, huh?”

He flicks at her clit with his thumb, dips just inside of her wet pussy with the tip of his middle finger. 

“Uh-huh,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Dean chuckles as he pushes his finger in some more but not too much. It’s just a tease after all. He closes his eyes, groans again. He’s fucking hard by now and he presses closer to her ass, making her feel what’s going to await her.

“You’re so wet and warm,” He breathes out next to her ear, “Who’s making you so wet, huh?” 

“Fuck,” 

“Who, baby?” He goes further in, applies more pressure with his thumb.

“Y-you… you, daddy,”

Y/N doesn’t seem to have noticed the word she let slip out, or she’s too far gone to care if he’d be appalled by it.

He sucks in her earlobe with a chuckle, releases it before he nibbles at them. Not so much that it hurts, but enough to inflict a little pained pleasure, “Yeah? Did daddy make you all wet, huh? Jesus, you’re so tight and warm, making me want to fuck you so bad,”

“Do it,” She drives her ass back, wriggles with it deliberately, “Please? Daddy?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

She really is into this. 

“Gonna take you home first, baby, you up for that? Huh?” His other hand massages up her throat and Dean paints along her mouth with two of his fingers. He can’t really see but he can feel. 

Nodding her head, she opens her mouth, sucks his digits in, and swirls her tongue around them. 

Fuck.

“Your mouth, baby,” He whispers, “Feels good around my fingers, would love to see them around daddy’s cock,” 

“Mmmh,” A moan of approval accompanied by a shiver.

“Would you like that, huh? Like for daddy to use your mouth? Let you suck my cock like the good girl you are?” Her pussy clenches around the one digit and Dean grins, “Yeah you do. Gonna use your sweet mouth, can’t wait to feel those lips around my fat cock, baby girl,” He pushes his fingers deeper into her mouth, feeling her retching against him, “Yeah, gonna make you choke on daddy’s cock. That’s what you like, don’t you?” 

She hums around his digit, and her pussy clenches some more. 

Dean really hit the jackpot tonight. He should send Gabe a thank you card for bringing him out here.

“C’mon, let daddy take you home,” 

Y/N didn’t realize the word that slipped out of her mouth, but she was glad Dean ran along with it. Using it even more afterward too. He got harder hearing it out of her mouth, an added bonus, really. There aren’t a lot of guys who are into it and god, that guy is hot and is fully on board with it? She fucking loves this city. 

He doesn’t live too far, it was just a ten minute ride, where he moved close to her and let her drape a leg over his thighs. His fingers are in her pussy, fucking her with them while he fucks her mouth with his tongue to the same rhythm. Her hand is on his crotch, palming and rubbing him through his slacks. 

Dean groans into her mouth, parts just for a minute to catch his breath, and whispers low,  “Jesus, can’t wait to get my dick into that tight pussy, baby girl,”

Fuck. She can’t wait either. His filthy mouth turns her on so much. 

The cab comes to a halt at a building which is in the nicer part of the city. She wished she had enough money to live here one day. Maybe she will one day with the new job she’s starting on Monday. 

He lets go of her long enough to pay the driver and she tugs her skirt down as she gets out. Dean holds out a hand for her to take before he guides her into the building and into the elevator. 

Pushing her against the wall, he presses his one thigh between her legs, the skirt riding up in the process. He kisses her again, his one hand braced on the elevator wall, his other hand around her throat, applying enough pressure for her to not feel like he’s restricting her. His mouth hovers around hers and he moves in, pecks her lips gently, “Come on, rub your sweet cunt on my thigh, baby. Get yourself warm and nice for me,”

She nods and he claims her mouth, kisses her hard, the scruff rubbing against her cheek, his tongue licking into it deep as she moves her hips and rubs her ruined panties over his clothed thigh.

God, the friction feels phenomenal. 

The elevator pings, and Dean chuckles as he pushes himself from her, chuckles, because she’s still rutting against nothing. 

“Fuck, you’re really something,” He whispers as he manhandles her out of the elevator only to drag her along the hallway.

It’s easy, she thinks, so easy for him to manhandle her around. He’s so broad and strong and just... fuck , she wants him so bad. 

He comes to a halt in front of a door that says 823 , reaches into his pocket to pull out a set of keys and she stands behind him, reaching her arms around his body. Her one hand palms over a clothed, yet still so fucking hard cock, while her other hand tries to unto his belt buckle. 

“Baby,” Dean chuckles, “Can’t open the door when you’re distracting me,”

“Just want you so bad,” She says, her forehead leans against his back and she feels his muscle shifting. 

Y/N got the belt loose before Dean found the keyhole, her hand sneaking into his pants, traveling over the tuft of pubic hair until she wraps her fist around his dick. 

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes for a moment before he goes on with trying to get into the apartment. 

Dean shakes his head, “You really want that dick, huh?” 

“Yeah,” She whispers against his back, her hand now jerking him off. She squeezes a little more at the head of his dick, and pads over his slit to smear the precum around his tip. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” Dean mutters under his breath and she hears a click before he turns around, making her release her grip around his cock. 

He crashes his mouth on hers, kisses her hard, his fingers fisting in the hair at the back of her head as he pulls her into the apartment with their lips still attached. He kicks the door closed with one foot. 

After a while of intense kissing, Dean pushes her away, making her stagger back. 

“Strip, baby,” He says in an absolutely dirty voice all deep and husky and she does because god, she would be damned if she didn’t want to be his good girl tonight. 

Her shoes are off quick and she pushes her skirt down, her underwear comes right after before she pulls her top over her head.

Dean has released his cock, is fisting it while he watches her undress herself in front of him, groans when he sees her nakedness. 

“Beautiful,” He lets out, smirking a little. It’s a boyish grin and that’s when he slips out of his role a little, she thinks. With his next breath, he catches himself again.

Normally she’s pretty self-conscious, but she has the feeling that the guy standing before her who’s ready to get his cock wet, doesn’t mind how she looks since they came this far already. Plus, the light’s still off, but the light from the moon and skyscrapers shines in, making her see enough to want him even more.

His dick is heavy and hard in his fist, as he massages it up and down. Her mouth waters at the sight.

“Get down on your knees,” 

God, yes. 

Finally.

Y/N kneels before him and Dean takes a step further in as he groans. Her mouth is already open and inviting, but he takes his time, rubs his heavy dick over her face. 

“Looking so good for daddy, baby,” He huffs out. 

The rubbing smears his precum on her face. She feels wet drops here and there and the scent of his arousal is intoxicating. God, it’s making her drool. 

“You want my dick, huh?” He asks, tapping his dick lightly to her cheek, “Want to show me how good you suck cock?”

“God, yes,” She agrees with a frantic nod of her head.

“Call me daddy, baby,” Dean chuckles, “Open up your mouth wider, stick out your tongue,”

She does what she’s told.

“Good girl. That’s daddy’s good girl,” He says almost fondly and slaps his dick against her awaiting tongue, “Now suck,”

Well, she doesn’t need to be told twice. Sealing her lips around the head, she starts to suckle at it and Dean groans, throws his head back as she looks up.

“That’s right,” He whispers as soon as he catches himself, “Look up at me, I want to see how much you like sucking my cock, baby,”

She tries her best, she really does. His cock is thick, the taste of precum and a day’s worth of musk is heavy on her tongue, the scent penetrating her nose. It makes her suck him harder, makes her leak profoundly between her legs because she just wants him so fucking much.

“Spread your legs, touch yourself,” Dean mumbles, “I wanna see you touching yourself, baby. Wanna see you make yourself come while you suck my cock,”

Oh god, yes. She’s so close too. It’s no wonder, as she’s been balancing on that fucking edge since he fingered her in the club. 

Spreading her leg but still on her knees, she pushes a hand in between, fingers herself, and rubs against her clit. The sound of her wetness is loud in the room. Dean groans when he hears it.

“So fucking good, baby girl,” He huffs out. His hand comes to push a strand of hair out of her face to see her better, “Sucking daddy’s cock so well,”

“Mmmh,” She hums in approval with his dick in her mouth and fuck, hearing him praise her just does things to her and she comes, quick, hard, humming and shrieking with his cock in her mouth. It makes him push his pelvis against her harder, making her choke when the tip of his dick hits her throat.

“Good girl,” Dean hums as he pulls his dick back but he leaves her to suckle at his tip, “Such a good girl for daddy, I’m so proud,” His hand finds the side of her face, applies pressure on his palms as he grips it, “I’m going go fuck your face, okay? Can you take that, huh? Take my dick?”

She looks up and hums, nodding her head.

He smiles down fondly, his teeth showing white and the crinkles around his eyes run deep. His grip around her face tightens a bit as he starts to fuck into her mouth, getting deeper inside with every thrust and she braces her hands on his thighs, fingers gripping at the fabric of his pants when she feels his dick choking her. 

Dean presses his pelvis to her face, his pubic hair tickles her nose and he stays there for a while until she taps at his thigh because she feels like she’s going to pass out if he doesn’t let her come up for air. 

And it’s weird. Really weird. She should be scared of doing this with a stranger, yet she trusts him. He has won her trust in such a short span of time. Some would call it naivety. 

When he releases her face, she gulps for hair, trying to fill her lungs before he thrusts in again and he does. He gets faster too. The drool is running down her throat, her chest is wet. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispers between thrusts, “Your mouth is fucking perfect, baby. You taking my cock so well,” 

It makes her wetter hearing it and she’s sure that there’s a pool of her juice right below her. 

“You want my come, baby? Want me to come in your mouth?” 

Oh, god. More than anything right now. 

She wants to feel him, to fucking taste him, so she nods her head as he stops his thrusts for a second. 

Dean grins cockily. It’s really a good look on him, “Take it all, okay? But don’t swallow yet. Keep it in your mouth, baby,”

Another nod. 

“Jesus,” He groans as he picks up his thrusting, “You’re perfect, baby girl, so good for daddy,” 

His thrusts are faster before he comes and when he does, he lets out a deep growl as he pulls his cock out and fills her mouth with his cum. 

Y/N does as she was told. She doesn’t swallow, instead, she opens her mouth, letting him pour in every drop he can milk out of that beautiful cock of his. 

Dean’s spent dick is getting softer, but it still looks impressive, at least when it dangles so close to her face. 

There’s a drop of cum on the corner of her mouth and he scoops it up with his thumb, pushing it into her mouth. His eyes are on her, a glow around him after his release. It makes him even more attractive and she wonders how fate is sometimes cruel to give her something she craves but takes it away again because it’s a one night stand. That’s all there is. He knows it as much as she does.

His other hand goes up below her eyes, brushes away the smeared mascara and with his thumb still in her mouth he tries to angle his stance to get her other eye as well. 

Her mouth is full of cum and drool, almost spilling over but Dean takes his time, stands back to marvel at her. 

“You look so pretty,” He says, again with a fond undertone, “Would take a picture if I could,” The cum’s floating over, and Dean pushes his thumb inside her mouth some more, “You may swallow now, baby,”

She does, closes her eyes to get the thickness of his cum down with his thumb still in her mouth. She sucks at the digit, signaling to him that it’s all gone.

“Open up,” He whispers, “Show me,”

Y/N smiles when she does, opens her mouth wide to show him that she’s swallowed it all.

He chuckles, “Good girl, you’re really a good fucking girl, baby,” 

Taking his thumb out, he brushes it along her lips before he grabs at her arm and pulls her up. He kisses her then, letting out a languished groan when he tastes himself on her tongue. 

“Down the hallway, the room to the left. I want you spread out on my bed, play with yourself okay?” 

Dean kisses her on her nose and she nods before she makes her way to his bedroom. Climbing on his bed, she positions herself with her back against the headboard and spreads her legs. Her one hand plays with her pussy, fingers dipping in deep, before rubbing at her clit wetly. She closes her eyes, thinks about what just happened. Thinks about his voice that she’ll probably never forget. Thinks about his taste that she won’t be able to erase out of her mind. 

It’s not long before Dean joins her, in one hand bottled water, in the other are her clothes and shoes. He’s really being considerate. Or he’s a neat freak. Either or. Not that it matters.

He drapes her clothes over a chair next to the bed, sets her shoes right below it before he unscrews the water and hands it over to her to drink. The coldness of it travels down her throat, making her shiver. Maybe she shivers of anticipation too, who knows. 

Setting the water on the nightstand, Dean continues to undress, taking off his suit jacket and drapes it over another chair. While doing it, his eyes are on her. 

She’s still rubbing herself, fondles her tits one-handed too, pinching her nipple, and arches her back.

“That’s it,” Dean croons, “Touch yourself, but don’t make yourself come, I wanna feel you come on daddy’s cock,” 

Oh god.

She wants that too.

He watches her some more as his fingers slowly unbutton his shirt. Too slowly and it’s not fair because she just knows that he’s teasing her. When he takes his shirt off, she can see how broad he is, can see the muscles moving. He’s soft and firm and so fucking delicious. By the time Dean takes off his underwear, his dick is already more than semi hard. It’s impressive, really. She still can’t believe that she had that down her throat.

When he’s naked before her, he tugs at his cock, jerks it while his eyes are on her and he walks closer, climbing on the bed and walks closer to where she is on his knees. 

“Jesus,” He growls, “You’re making me hard again, baby,” 

There’s a smile tugging at her lips as a sense of pride washes over her. 

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” She says it in her best sultry voice.

“No,”

“No?” She frowns a little.

Dean chuckles, “No, I gotta taste you first,” He shoulders himself between her thighs, “Be a good girl, hold your legs up for daddy,”

Shamelessly, she hooks her arms around the back of her knee as she pulls them up and apart, almost folding herself in half. That’s how eager she is to spread for him. 

His big hands are on the back of her thighs, helping push her back as he hovers above her wet pussy, “That’s my good girl,” He chuckles, warm air hitting her core, and she trembles.

He doesn’t stall, instead, he buries his face right in there, sucking and lapping around her sensitive nub like it’s the only thing that keeps him the fuck alive. 

“Your cunt’s so sweet, baby,” He moans, as he spreads kisses all over her pussy, “Could eat you for days,”

Alternatively, he switches from sucking to lapping, and her hand finds his hair fingers, pulling at it, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He even starts to hum and that drives her fucking crazy.

It’s when he pushes in a thick finger that she almost loses it. Has to throw her head back and close her eyes when he curves the finger just right. He soon uses another finger, rubbing against her inner wall with it while he sucks at her clit and she just knows. She just fucking knows that she’s going to come again.

Her grip tightens in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp but Dean goes on, licking her and sucking her while he thrusts his fingers inside of her.

“Da- fuck- daddy,” She bites on her lip and the wave that hits her is strong, making her release her own legs, making her squeeze them around Dean’s head, “Fuck, oh my god,”

Dean chuckles as he spreads kitten licks on her clit. He pulls his fingers out and they pop out with a wet squelching sound, “You’re doing so good for me, baby, but please, call me daddy,”

The way he looks up from between her legs makes her heart race faster. Half of his face is drenched with her slick and there’s a glisten in his eyes while his lips are crooked into a smile that’s full of bravado.

He’s still fingering her lazily, circling his thumb soothingly around her clit, not applying too much pressure because he knows that she’s sensitive. Dean leans down and kisses her, swirls his tongue around her own. He parts with a bite on her lip, making her squeal and laugh. 

“Can you fuck me now, daddy? Please?” She pouts a little for the effect but god, she’s so desperate for his cock. Desperate to feel him inside of her. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this and you can say no, okay?” He starts while he lays himself next to her, kissing the side of her face while he rubs between her legs. Dean dips down sucking a nipple into his mouth, bites on that too, chuckles when she moans.

“What?” She asks, fearing the worst. Fearing that he’ll say that it’s been a mistake and he only wanted to go this far and no further, fearing that maybe he’ll say that he’s too tired, or that he wants to put off fucking her for real for another day, or fuck, what does she know? There are so many possibilities that run through her mind right now.

Dean noses along her cheek, his nose is still damp, and she can smell her scent off him, “I was wondering if I could fuck you without condom, and before you say anything, I know it’s stupid but god, you feel so fucking good around my cock and you’re so fucking wet, I really want to feel it,”

Oh.

Y/N can’t believe what she’s going to say either. She’s never been so careless before but fuck, she’s really so far gone, and as she said before, she doesn’t know what it is but she fucking trusts Dean. 

“I can’t believe that I’m saying it either, but please please, fuck me raw, daddy,”

“Jesus,” Dean groans as he quickly captures her mouth, tongue swiveling against her own. He sucks in her tongue before he releases it, “Come on, get on top of me,”

With one swift movement, he manages to manhandle her on top of him and she straddles his body, moving down inch by inch. He groans out again when she feels her leaving her wetness on his body on her way down. 

Spreading herself over his hard cock, she grinds her pussy lips on it, slicks it up with her juice, teasing him in the process. 

“Fuck, baby girl, don’t be a tease now,” 

She chuckles but doesn’t stop and he lets her, probably enjoying the view and her playfulness. When she’s had enough and almost bursts herself, she grabs at his cock and points it upwards. Slowly, oh so slowly, she lets herself down.

Dean let out a groan, bites down on his bottom lip as she works her way further down his shaft. He helps a little, pushing his hips up, and down again when she manages to take all of him. 

Her hands are braced on his chest and he rubs along her thighs. She needs a moment to get used to it, her walls fluttering around his girth.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath, “You feel so fucking good, baby, like I thought you would. So wet and tight,”

Y/N’s plenty wet, Dean’s right about that and she gets even wetter as she starts to bounce on his shaft.

“So good, baby,” He coos, his hands on her hips, helping her guide herself up and down, “So pretty bouncing on daddy’s cock, fuck,” His one hand goes to her tit, squeezes it tight before he slaps down on her nipple, “That’s it, baby, fuck me,”

And that, she does. His words make her wetter, make her bounce on top of him harder. Up until she’s worn out and retorts to grinding. 

Dean pulls her down by her arms, kisses her as he thrusts his hips up to not lose the rhythm, “Is my baby tired, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” 

“Should daddy take over?”

“Yes, please,”

With a chuckle, Dean turns them both around until he’s on top, without slipping out of her. He gets up on his knees and pulls her closer by her legs so that her ass is on top of his thighs as he begins to fuck her deep and slow.

“Like that, baby?” He asks with one thumb circling her clit.

“Uh-huh,” 

There’s really no coherent word that she could bring past her lips. 

“Yeah?” He asks as he thrusts harder. He changes angles then, puts her down on her back and pushes her legs up so that he can thrust in even harder, “Like it hard?”

“Fuck, yeah,” 

“That’s a good girl, baby,” Dean whispers, “Your cunt, that’s mine tonight, isn’t it?”

His thrust gets deeper, just the way she likes it, making her roll her eyes to the back every time he hits her cervix.

“Yours,” She manages to say, “Fuck,”

“Who am I, baby girl?”

“Shit,” 

He starts to rub her clit while his slows his thrusting, but he still goes in deep, reaches her every corner where she wants him most, “Tell me, I want to hear you say it,”

“Daddy-, fuck, daddy, you’re my daddy,” 

“That’s right, baby girl,” He coos, “I want you to remember that, okay? Remember who makes you feel good,” 

He talks like she could ever forget him. It’s so fucking hard to and she doesn’t think she’d be able to even if she would try.

“Oh my-,” She bites on her tongue, knows that she should say his name, “Daddy, I’m fuck- you’re going to make me come,”

“That's okay, baby, come,” He pants, “I wanna feel you coming on my fat cock, can you do that for daddy, huh?” His one hand goes to her throat, claws around it and squeezes it just right. It gives her the much added trigger to explode.

Fuck , who taught him to fucking talk like this?

Dean chuckles, “I can already feel your cunt squeezing around me, baby, you’re close, so fucking close, ain’t you? Come now,”

It’s not like she needs permission, they didn’t work that out but fuck, if she’s not a good girl. So she comes, right around his cock. He releases his hand around her throat, brushing over it just lightly to smooth away the pain.

“Jesus, fuck,” Dean groans as her walls squeeze down on him. His movement starts to falter and she can feel that he’s holding himself together, “You feel so good coming on my cock, baby. You just got tighter too, fuck,”

It’s about only three hard thrusts later that he starts to tremble, “Where do you want me to come?” 

She looks up at him, her hands curl around his biceps with every hard hit to her cervix, “I want, fuck, I want you to come inside, daddy, please? Wanna feel your cum running out for days,”

“Baby, you’re a fucking nasty girl, ain’t you? Fuck,” 

Oh god. He’s right because that’s what she fucking is. She has no shame whatsoever. 

“Gonna come so deep in your cunt, baby, mark it as mine,” He thrusts faster but not as deep anymore, “How does that sound?”

“Please,” She is basically begging him.

“That’s my good girl, taking my cock so well and now my girl wants my cum too, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” He growls low, and pushes in twice more, hitting her cervix before he stills and spills his cum deep inside of her. 

Dean lets himself fall on top of her, braces his elbows on the side of her face so as to not crush her. He dips his head down, kisses her deep and tender while his dick still twitches inside of her with his release.

They took a shower together after that, cleaning themself off their filth and cum, and Dean’s worn out but he couldn’t help himself, made her come again in the shower on his dick alone with his thumb buried in her ass as he fucked her from behind. If he should fuck her again, he wants to try that back hole too, is almost sure that she’d let him because she went nuts when he stuck his thumb in there. Jesus, he hopes there’ll be a next time. It doesn't happen often that he wants to see a one night stand again, but with her, he’s ready to make an exception.

Now she’s really tired and almost falls asleep in his arms while he carries her over to his bed. Dean tucks her in and slides in next to her, pulling her into him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kisses her gently, hand brushes away the hair from her face, knuckles grazing her cheeks.

He feels her smile into the kiss.

“Thank you,” She whispers and is already drifting off.

Dean chuckles, “You’re really something else, baby,” 

  *

He wakes in the morning, realizes that the bed next to him is empty. Tilting his head around, Dean looks at the chair, sees that her clothes are gone along with her shoes.

Heaving his aching body from the bed, he sits up and rubs his hands over his face, “Fuck,”

She’s gone. Dean doesn’t even have her number. He really doubts he’ll see her again and that’s a fucking shame. 

*

Monday rolls around and Dean’s nervous. 

He’s pissed too, because he called Gabe and persuaded his friend to go to the club again but of course she wasn’t there. He waited longer than he should have, turned down four girls because he wanted to meet the right one. He had been losing sleep because it had gotten late and the thought of having to be in the office in five hours doesn’t help. 

So he sits in the meeting room, waiting for his bosses to arrive to maybe fire him, even though he fucking aced the presentation to the project this morning.

“Hello Winchester,” Mr. Turner says as he sits down and Mrs. Mills takes the chair next to Mr. Turner. They sit across from him. 

“Mrs. Mills,” He nods, “Mr. Turner,”

“Have you been informed why we called you in today?”

“Not, really no.” Dean shakes his head as he rubs his sweaty hands on his slacks. 

Mrs. Mills smiles, “We are thinking that you’re doing a great job,”

“I am?” He cocks an eyebrow, as if he can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Mr. Turner chimes in, “The reason for this meeting is this. You know that Mr. Campbell is retiring in a couple of weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” 

Dean knows. He’s been invited to the farewell party organized by Mr. Samuel Campbell himself. 

“Right,” Mrs. Turner nods, “We are considering you for the position.”

“Really?” He can’t hide the grin, and even if it’s a job he absolutely doesn’t want, it feels great to be considered for it.

“There’s a catch, though,” Mrs. Miller says and of course there is. There’s always a catch in this company. 

“We have a newcomer from an external company who also applied for the job. The person has a good reputation and great recommendation letters.” 

Of course. Dean nods. They always have. 

“We want to watch the two of you for about a week, two tops, see how much you’re willing to give of yourself, how driven you both are. We’re going to make a decision and please don’t take it personally if it’s not you. I’m sure the next position that opens up will be glad to have you.”

“Is this a competition?”

“See it as such, yeah. We talked about it in the boardroom and we really think it’s fair to give the other person a chance to get some more work experience in the company before we would consider them suitable for the job. With you, Mr. Winchester, we already know it, but that doesn’t mean that you have the job for sure.”

“Right,” 

He’s never good at losing but that’s because Dean never loses. He’ll have an advantage over that dude. It’s probably going to be a piece of cake. He barely has to lift a finger, probably.

“Are you ready to meet your competition? There are projects you have to work on together, so it would be good if you get acquainted with each other.” Mrs. Mills asks.

“Sure,” Dean shrugs with a nod.

Mrs. Mills gets up from her chair to walk to the door. She opens it and keeps it open wide and then it feels like the air has been punched out of Dean’s lungs.

He’d recognize that face anywhere. He also remembers those long legs in heels.

“Mr. Winchester, meet your new colleague, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,”

Chapter Two

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[dreamerhideout]

i love you so

summary: after recovering from a messy break-up with your high school sweetheart, you’d never expect to find happiness in someone who bumped into you on the subway. but that’s where jake sim comes in.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, office!au

characters: jake x reader, mentions of ex-boyfriend!jay

warnings: partially proofread, but besides that, none

word count: 1946

a/n: this was supposed to be an entry for the “and then we met” @enhypenwriters writing event, but i think i lost the muse for this a bit too fast (plus, school swamped me again.) i literally wanted to base it off this song by the walters until it dawned on me that it was a heartbreak song :/ hence i made a few adjustments. i’m not quite sure if i’m fully satisfied with how this turned out, but i hope you still enjoy it~

more under the cut!

your heels clicked on the platform as you weaved your way through the crowd of people. it was a bustling monday morning, and waking up half an hour late was not how you expected to start your week. bingeing on this one political-drama show the night before began to feel like a regrettable choice, but there was no time to dwell on that when you see your train pulling up at the platform.

“oh damn, i’m so sorry.”

maybe it was because of how distracted you were from your surroundings that you hadn’t realized that someone bumped into you. as a result, you barely noticed that your coat had gotten stained from the coffee in their cup.

you gave them an apologetic smile, too rushed to get pissed. “no worries.” pausing for a second, you registered the culprit to be a man with a head of chocolate-brown hair and slightly frantic eyes before jogging towards the open subway cart door. once you got on the nearly-stuffed train, your eyes peered down towards your coat. sighing, you swiped at your coffee-stained coat with your finger; perhaps you’d be able to get it cleaned at the office later on if you weren’t getting your ear chewed off by your manager.

-

“we have a new employee joining us today.”

exiting the bathroom door with a slightly-scrubbed coat in hand, you heard your manager call out, then the chatter in the room subsiding. she was standing beside a man that you wouldn’t have vaguely remembered seeing before if it weren’t for the small smile he gave you.

“hi everyone, i’m jake sim. i’ll be working under the research department starting today. it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

you recognized that voice a little too well, then glancing at your dampened coat. who knew that the man you hastily bumped into this morning would be working at your office?

“jake will be occupying the desk next to (y/n)’s, and he’ll also be under my supervision as he’s still on trial for the next two weeks.” almost instantly, your manager turned towards you, who was still standing in front of the bathroom door.

“oh, yes,” you replied, eyes widening slightly. you went towards your cubicle and motioned to the empty desk beside you for jake to put his things, “over here.”

he walked over and placed a box filled with his belongings on top of the table, then unpacking. “well, i never thought i’d see you here,” he chuckled, “really sorry for what happened earlier, by the way.”

“eh, it’s no big deal.” you draped your coat over your chair for it to dry, “i managed to scrub off most of the stain, so it should be fine.”

“are you sure it isn’t ruined?” he turned to face you, slightly quirking an eyebrow.

you grinned in response, “positive."

jake had placed some stationery into a pencil holder before extending out a hand towards you. “i know i’ve introduced myself earlier.” he smiled rather awkwardly, “but for the sake of us being desk-mates, i’ll do it again. i’m jake.”

your hand met his for a quick shake, a knowing smile on your face. “(y/n). nice to meet you.”

-

if you were sure about one thing, it’d be that time flies by when you’re drowning in deadlines. the sun had already disappeared, yet you still sat hunched over your laptop, fingers typing away at a report due tomorrow assigned a few hours ago. you would have argued with your manager on the matter, but the glare she gave you as you were about to open your mouth was enough to make you shrink back into your seat.

out of habit, you grabbed your phone and unlocked it, expecting to see a message notification from jay, your boyfriend, who’d usually come to pick you up from work. when you didn’t receive one, however, it only dawned on you once again that you weren’t even with him anymore. he was the reason why your routine for the past few months had been working and binge-watching on repeat, with the occasional cry session if you were feeling really out of it. moving on after said breakup had been difficult, especially when it involved the very person who vowed to marry you on the day of your high school graduation.

“working overtime?”

you peered up from your head in your hands to see jake. he had pushed his chair back and was looking at you past the divider. it was way past office hours and you swore that you heard the last of your coworkers’ chatter out the door a few hours ago, but you must have been mistaken.

“yeah.” you gave him a grim smile, “some stupid report i was told to do today.”

“ouch,” he winced, closing his laptop. jake then studied your expression, picking up on how exhausted you looked. “tell you what.” he stood up and began slipping items into his backpack, “what if we went home together? maybe i could grab you something on the way back to make up for earlier.”

you looked up from your screen to see a cheeky smile on his lips. the offer did seem tempting, but you were ways away from actually completing the report. “oh that really isn’t necessary...” you threw him a small smile as you waved a hand rather dismissively, “i might be here for a long while, and i wouldn’t want to hold you back from going home.”

“i insist, (y/n).” jake zipped up his backpack after tossing in a file, “i wouldn’t mind waiting since i have nothing due tomorrow.” he then propped an elbow up on the divider, leaning on it as he carefully took note of the obvious strain on your eyes as well as how you had a slight pout on your lips when you were focused, “and besides... you kinda look like you could use some company.”

a small hum was heard from your mouth until you finally sighed in defeat; he definitely wasn’t wrong about company. “if you say so, then.” you stretched your arms, turning away from your screen, “maybe having you around will make me work faster?”

“how so?”

“you know how sometimes kids won’t work on their homework unless there’s an adult cowering over them like a hawk? yeah, that.” 

jake brought a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, which ended in him snorting instead. you could feel a smile creep up your lips.

-

the trip home was the most fun you’ve had in months. it didn’t occur to you that jake would be such an avid chatterbox, but you were sorely mistaken. he always had a conversation topic up his sleeve, whether it was about daily adult struggles to his childhood back in australia. you also noticed how he absolutely could not shut up about his beloved dog, layla; it’s a wonder how he had an entire album filled with hundreds of her pictures on his phone. slowly but surely, you also began juggling the conversation; it was as if you had reverted to your bright, happy self pre-breakup. talking with him really felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend, and it was only a matter of minutes until you had reached your apartment's front door.

jake had wanted to use your bathroom for a bit, but it ended with you suggesting for him to stay for dinner which consisted of microwaved pizza and sweet tea. you placed the pizza on the coffee table in front of the tv, then starting up the series you were bingeing on the other night.

“is that designated survivor?” jake sat on your sofa before grabbing a slice of pizza from the plate.

“mhm,” you replied, mouth stuffed. swallowing first, you then replied to him, “the synopsis made me curious.”

your remark was met with silence as you saw jake’s gazed fixed intently upon the screen. it wouldn’t have occurred to you that you’d be having a coworker (who was insanely attractive, nonetheless) over for dinner, but it didn’t bother you at all when jake made offhand comments about the characters and scenes of the series. it also occurred to you quite late that you hadn’t gotten napkins out for the both of you.

“hold on, lemme grab something.” you stood up and went towards your cabinets in search for napkins. jake’s attention broke from the screen to follow your figure before his gaze momentarily landed on a photo frame by the side of your sofa. it was a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, with his arm wrapped around you as you both smiled brightly for the camera.

“i didn’t know you had a boyfriend?” the man teased as he saw you walk back towards him, napkins in hand. your expression dropped when you realized that throughout the time you’ve been trying to mend your broken heart, you had forgotten to put away that photo.

“we broke up.”

guilt flashed across jake’s face as he realized he had overstepped. “oh wow, i’m sorry... i shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“it’s fine. i guess i must’ve forgotten to put that away.” you smiled at him and placed the napkins on the table before flipping the frame down. taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to focus on the show playing in front of you; you could feel bits of dread wallow in the bottom of your stomach.

there was a moment of awkward pause as neither of you knew what to say. just as you were about to ask jake to leave since you could feel dread clawing at your insides, he suddenly spoke up, “you’re... really strong, though.”

turning to face him, you stared at him quizzically, “really?”

“yeah.” jake could feel your eyes on him, “i mean, if it weren’t for me finding out, i would’ve never guessed that you were going through that.” he grabbed another piece of pizza before meeting your gaze, “you’re a great person, (y/n). i think you should know that. and if you’d need someone to talk to about him... although i don’t really know the guy, i’m all ears.”

the way he gave you a soft smile at the end made your heart slightly flutter. maybe it was because there was this very charming man consoling you on your last breakup, but it was more on the fact that you knew someone had your back in your times of healing. “thanks, jake.” you smiled back, feeling your heart lighten. “i appreciate it. a lot.”

jake felt his heart flip at the sight of your smile. it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you smile the entire day; it was a different kind as he could see some weight visibly lifted from you. you were pretty cute when you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the sides when you did, and he wondered how he hadn’t realized that sooner.

“uh... jake?” you waved a hand in front of his face to break him away from his stare. he quickly snapped out of his reverie, ears tinting a shade of pink.

“oh, yeah, sorry about that...” he murmured nervously, scratching the back of his head, “guess i got a bit distracted there?”

“i noticed.” you giggled in response, turning your attention back towards the tv. you saw how he stared at you after you spoke, eyes lost in a dream-like trance, and you felt your heart go fuzzy.

perhaps you were still healing, and you might need a little more time before jumping into something new. but rest assured, you knew that jake would be waiting on the other side no matter what.

[snelbz]

Spitting Image

Based on the anonymous prompt:  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Co-written, as always, with @tacmc​.

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

Cassian had been infuriated when he left his flat, but as he sat in his car outside of Nesta’s house, there was a hollowness settled in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn’t been back in Velaris for long. He hadn’t expected to be back so soon, but he missed his family too much to stay in the north forever. After their constant begging, and after he’d gotten his college diploma, he was packing up and moving back to the city of starlight.

Where she was.

He’d been avoiding her so far, hadn’t seen her once in the month he’d been home.

Until he found out.

Then he was going to confront her, going to pound on her door and demand how she couldn’t have told him. He was going to yell, was going to look her in the eye for the first time in years and demand answers she’d never given him.

Nothing came to him, though, as he sat in his car, staring at her front door.

None of it made any sense. It made as little now as it had then, when a single text message had shredded his heart, and sitting here, staring at the unfamiliar house, Cassian felt all those old wounds reopening.

With a weary sigh, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel and he closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how they had ended up here, how any of this had happened, but he knew exactly what day everything had changed.

Just like everything else in his life, Cassian had gotten his information to Adriata’s head coach just days before the deadline, going back and forth on the decision of whether or not he should pursue his dream. Summer training was slated to start the following Monday and when his phone rang, he never expected it to be Tarquin Hadrian himself.

He’d immediately texted Nesta, telling her he had good news and that he was on his way to see her. He had to get packed. He was leaving for Adriata tonight.

She texted back and told him she had news, too, but he was so excited, he didn’t even think to ask what it was. He knew she’d tell him as soon as he got there.

But she hadn’t, because Cassian had gone first.

He’d told her about the scholarship, told him his education was paid for at one of the best universities in the country. He’d told her that he would be playing football, starting as a freshman.

Then she’d told him she was proud of him, told him how amazing it all was. Cassian was so hyped up that he forgot to ask what her news was.

She broke up with him soon after, because he would be too far away, and long distance was too hard. Cassian had left, and never heard from Nesta Archeron again.

Now, he would.

As soon as he got the nerve to get out of his car.

He looked at the clock on the dash. 

He’d been there for nearly half an hour.

It was time.

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath before throwing open his door and getting out.

He was sure she had to know he was back. He’d been to dinner with Elain and Azriel the night before. They’d firmly avoided the topic of the eldest Archeron sister, just as every conversation had since he’d arrived back in Velaris. Just as he’d been doing to the woman herself.

As he walked up the cobblestone path to the door, he was struck by just how much the home looked like it was made for Nesta. It was older, but you’d never be able to tell. Not with the glossy, navy shutters and the cheery garden out front. He was sure that was courtesy of Elain, rather than Nesta.

When he lifted his hand to knock, all of the anger that had built and built in him fell away and he felt a pang of nerves growing in his gut.

Five years.

It had been five years since he’d seen Nesta Archeron. Five years of wondering how she was, what she was doing, who she was with.

With a final deep breath, he knocked on the door. Cassian wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the door opened, but it sure as shit wasn’t Tomas fucking Mandray.

Cassian froze.

As did Tomas.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Tomas asked, which Cassian thought was funny, because he was just about to ask Tomas the same question.

“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, evenly.

“Too bad,” he replied, leaning against the door frame. “She’s unavailable.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Cut the cheeky bullshit. I need to talk to her and it’s important.”

Nothing in his life had ever been this important. Not even the championship games he’d had the honor of playing in…and winning. And he knew nothing would ever be as important again.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” Tomas said, stepping out and getting eye to eye with Cassian. He hadn’t remembered being taller than the man, but he felt a small bit of pride as he had to look up at him. “Coming back after all these years, trying to come in like you still have a claim on her.”

Cassian had to take a moment to catch his breath, to remind himself that causing a scene, that kicking Tomas’ ass, would do no good. 

“Go get Nesta,” Cassian said, simply, calmly. “I’m not leaving here until I talk to her.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a long ass time,” Tomas said, his voice low. 

“I’ll wait,” he replied.

The two men stared at one another, unblinkingly. 

Her footsteps began creaking down the old wooden stairs behind Tomas, and the moment that Cassian saw her, every thought he’d ever had fell from his mind. It went completely blank, and he suddenly began to panic as every emotion he’d ever had for Nesta flooded the surface. 

Love, lust, complete adoration.

Anger, hatred, complete heartbreak. 

“Who’s here?” Nesta asked, reading a novel as she walked. She always had her nose in a book. 

Tomas lifted his chin. “No one. He was just leaving.”

Nesta looked up then, and on the bottom step, she froze. Her eyes connected with Cassian’s, and her lips fell open. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do a thing.

“Tomas, I think you should head home,” she said, voice so quiet that Cassian was surprised he could hear it.

He turned around, staring at her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Please,” she said. “Go.”

Without another word, he walked towards the back of the house. Nesta was staring at her feet, still not looking at him, but gods, he was staring at her. She was so beautiful, as beautiful the day he’d kissed her goodbye.

He had no idea it would be the last time he’d ever feel her lips on his.

Tomas emerged again, a black backpack slung over his shoulder, keys in his hand. He didn’t look at Nesta, just brushed past Cassian as he left, shoving him with his shoulder.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassian cleared his throat, but Nesta spoke first. “I heard you were back in town.”

“Didn’t try to call though,” Cassian said, the words not as hard as he intended them to be. He stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him.

Nesta sighed and said, “I’ve been busy. Would you like some coffee?”

So formal. So polite. So unlike the firey girl he’d loved.

“You know, why I’m here, Nes,” he breathed, the familiar nickname falling from his lips. Before she could respond, he added, “Where is he?”

Her eyes fell closed and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes, just like she’d always done when he did something to infuriate her. “At school. It’s noon on a Tuesday.”

Of course he would be at school. Cassian hadn’t even thought about that on his way over. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he waited, waited for her to say something, anything, and when she didn’t, he was shaking his head.

Before he could speak, before he could blow up, Nesta asked, again, “Coffee?”

“I don’t want coffee,” Cassian said, quietly.

“You used to love coffee,” she pressed.

“I still do, I don’t want any right now.”

“Let me get you some coffee.” She was walking away before he could protest, yet again.

He wasn’t sure what to do, so he followed her down the hall, into the kitchen.

She was fixing a pot of coffee, refusing to meet his eyes still. 

“Nesta-.”

“How have you been?” she asked, the question rushing out of her as she pressed start on the coffee maker. 

“How have I been?” he repeated, exasperated.

“Yes, Cassian,” she said, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet and proceeding to dump two very healthy spoons of sugar into one of them and a normal amount into the other. “I haven’t talked to you in five years, I’d like to know how you’ve been.”

He blinked, not only at the fact that she still remembered exactly how to make his coffee, but as the genuine sincerity in her words. “What is this?” He asked, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening here?”

The pot gurgled as it finished brewing and Nesta pulled the carafe from its base and poured the coffee into the mugs. She picked them up and carefully carried them to the island where Cassian was leaning on his palms. “It’s two old friends catching up.”

The cold laugh left him before he could even think to stop it. “Old friends? Old friends? At least have the decency to call me your ex, Nes.”

She was so calm, as if she’d been expecting this reaction. As if she’d been preparing for this for nearly five years.

“Were we not friends?” she asked, sliding a mug across the island to him.

Cassian stared at her. He opened his mouth, but it soon fell shut, yet again. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t let you in to fight, Cass,” she said, quietly.

Cass.

His old nickname. She used to say it longing, lovingly. Now, it just seemed like an annoyance. 

“I’m not here to fight,” Cassian said, quietly, putting his hand around the mug. “I’m here for answers.” 

“I want to know how you’ve been,” Nesta continued, sipping from her steaming mug.

Cassian knew Nesta. He knew her better than most people. He knew that he would not win this argument. “I’ve been good. Living the fucking dream. Played football, got a degree, decided to come back home. And you? How have you been?”

His words were kind enough, but his tone was clipped, rushed, annoyed. He had no interest in small talk.

“Busy,” she admitted. “Got my degree, too, online though. And I started my own business. Interior design.”

Cassian couldn’t stop himself from looking around. The house was decorated impeccably. “Dating Tomas Mandray, I see,” he scoffed.

She almost spewed coffee across the counter, but she pulled herself together just in time. “Absolutely not,” she said, reaching for a paper towel to dab off her mouth. “He works for me, he balances my books.”

Blinking, his mug halfway to his own mouth, Cassian stared at her. And then he started laughing hysterically.

Nesta was staring at him. At first, she seemed concerned, then she was amused. “Does that please you?”

“I just…” he began, his laughter dying down. “I can’t believe I thought he was with you to begin with.” 

Nesta stared at him for a moment, until his laughter became obsolete. “Why did you come here, Cass?”

Cassian’s smile faded before he said, “You know why I’m here, Nesta.” 

She slowly set her mug down on the counter and looked up at him and sighed quietly.

He asked, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Of course not,” she breathed, her eyes sad. “I knew you would eventually, but you were living your dream. I wasn’t going to be the one to take that from you.”

He stared at her, unblinking and absolutely silent. When he spoke, he didn’t recognize his own voice. “Did you really think that I would care about football more than I would care about my own son? More than I cared about you?”

Nesta’s eyes fell closed and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to let you throw away your life-.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” He said, surprised by the elevation of his words, how genuinely hurt he was that she took that precious time from him. Time he couldn’t get back.

“Cassian-.” “No,” he said, before she could say anymore. “You should’ve told me.”

Nesta’s lips thinned out. “If I did, you would’ve dropped everything to come back here, and I just couldn’t…”

Cassian waited, and when she didn’t finish, Cassian shook his head. “Of course I would’ve come home. Would that have been so bad?” 

“Yes!” Nesta yelled, eyes wide. “You were living your dream, Cass!” 

“But you were here, having my kid!” he yelled, the words echoing throughout the empty kitchen.

He turned away, beginning to pace. “Is this why you ended it?” He asked, looking over at her. “So you wouldn’t have to visit, so I wouldn’t find out? Or did you dump me and it was just a happy accident?”

“Stop,” Nesta breathed.  

“I don’t wanna fucking stop!” Cassian yelled. “You had my kid, you were pregnant when I left, and you didn’t tell me!”

Nesta closed her eyes.

“I have been gone for five years, and I had no idea that I had a kid here!” Cassian continued, trying to contain himself, but being unable to.

The front door opened and little feet were hurrying down the hardwood floor towards them. “Mama, there’s a huuuuge truck outside! You have to come-.”

A little boy with blue-grey eyes and dark, curly hair froze as he came barreling into the kitchen, a Power Rangers backpack strapped to his back. Nesta glanced over at the clock, not realizing it was time for the bus to already be here. He slowly made his way to the middle of the kitchen, where she still stood, clutching her quickly cooling cup of coffee. “Are you still working, mama?” He quietly asked, looking at Cassian out of the corner of his eye.

It was a wonder Cassian hadn’t fallen to his knees the second he saw him. His eyes may have been the color of Nesta’s, but the shape was familiar in a way Cassian never thought he’d see. His lips were fuller than his own, so much like his mother’s. But the tan skin, the curly hair that was much longer than he was sure Nesta wanted it to be…

It was like looking into the most precious mirror, seeing a different version of himself, that he never knew existed, never knew he needed.  

“Hi, baby,” Nesta said, at last, meeting her son in the middle of the kitchen and wrapping him up in her arms. After giving him a kiss on his forehead, she asked, “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah!” He replied. “I had art, and gym, and I learned about the letter Q.”

“Q?” Nesta asked, like it was the coolest thing she had ever heard. “That’s awesome, buddy.”

He looked back at Cassian. “Who are you?”

Cassian hadn’t realized he had been staring, hadn’t realized he had been analyzing every inch of the little man, his spitting image before him.

He was frozen, unable to think of his own name.

“Mommy has been doing some work for him for a while. He’s here to see it.”

His eyes flicked to Nesta, at the save she’d made for him, but at the truth of her words.

He cleared his throat and rounded the island, crouching down in front of him. “My name is Cassian.”

Those little eyes scrutinized him, with a look he’d seen from Nesta a thousand times, and he tilted his head to the side. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. His words were clipped. “Rhett.”

Nesta warned, “Everett Gideon.” His eyes turned up to look at his mother and he found her looking back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Manners.”

He stood up a little straighter and when he looked back at Cassian, he could see a familiar spark of mischief in those eyes. “My name is Rhett. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Cassian said. “I like your name.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said, and turned around to storm out of the room.

Cassian watched him go.

“Hang your backpack up!” Nesta called after him. “And take off your shoes!”

Cassian hardly heard her. His son, Rhett. Five years old and probably full of attitude, considering who he was a biproduct of. He wasn’t sure what to think, wasn’t sure what thought to form.

Cassian looked at the doorway he had hurried out of for a long while. Nesta didn’t press. She simply waited, quietly.

After a moment, he breathed, “He… I…” 

He looked away and cleared his throat and Nesta pretended not to see the shimmering in his hazel eyes.

“I don’t know him… He doesn’t know me…” The words were quiet when he finally spoke. All at once, Nesta realized the anger was gone. What was left was a broken man. A father who wanted to know his son. “He’s five and he doesn’t know me.”

Nesta didn’t say anything, just calmly watched him, listening.

His words were soft, sad, when he said, “Did you not want me to know him?”

“Cassian,” Nesta began, but nothing else came out. She sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear. 

“Did you not want me to know him?” Cassian repeated, his voice catching on the words. 

“You had a dream,” Nesta said, simply. “I wasn’t about to ask you to stay.”

There it was. She’d said it before but it hust clicked in his head what she was saying.

Cassian was taken back. “What?”

She wasn’t even pretending to drink her coffee anymore, standing with her arms crossed, a hip pressed against the counter. She was gazing out the window, a faint smile on her lips. She cleared her throat, but when she finally spoke, Nesta’s voice still sounded tight. “You had the chance to do what you’d always wanted, Cass. You were getting to live out your dreams.” She turned to look at him and her eyes were soft. “I couldn’t take that from you.”

Cassian hesitated, unable to sort out his thoughts. “You… I…” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “You knew you were pregnant before I left? With- With my child? You knew you were pregnant with my child and you let me move across the fucking country?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?” she snapped. 

“Of course, I did,” he breathed. “But I’m having a little bit of trouble understanding.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she let loose a breath. “Do you know how long I’ve known you, Cass?”

Yes. Years. Nearly their entire lives.

“You always wanted to play football. You love it, and you always have,” she went on. “If I told you I was pregnant, you would’ve stayed, or you would’ve come back.”

“Of course, I would have!” Cassian yelled, meeting her eyes.

Her voice cracked as she said, “I wasn’t going to let you throw your entire life away for me!”

The silence settled in the kitchen and Cassian’s heavy breathing as he calmed himself was the only sound.

“I didn’t keep him from you to hurt you,” she said, at last. “I did it so you could do what you loved. I didn’t want you to resent me one day for losing that chance…”

Nesta didn’t have to say what else she was thinking. Cassian already knew.

Or Rhett.

None of this was his fault, yet his parents were screaming at each other in the kitchen, and there was no way he hadn’t heard.

Cassian let his elbows land on the hard countertop and his face fell into his hands.

“Five years,” he whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. “Five years and I’ve been… Damn it, Nesta.” 

There was no anger in his voice, hardly anything at all in his voice. 

“I already told you-.”

“You should’ve told me,” he interrupted, quietly. “You should’ve told me you were pregnant, should’ve told me he was born. You should’ve told me that he existed, Nesta, I have a son. What does he think of his father? That I don’t care? That I abandoned him? That I was just never around?”  

“No, I-.”

“Has he ever even asked?” Cassian breathed. “I mean… I’ve known about him for less than twenty-four hours, and he’s all I thought about, Nes. And, ultimately… I feel like shit. Five years… For five years, I had a kid out there and I missed it. I missed all of it, missed five years of my kid growing up.”

“But you got to do what you loved,” she said, quietly, looking away from him. “You got to play football. We watched you on TV,” she said, a soft laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob falling from her lips. “He loves football, too.”

He’d had it, something in him snapped. He rounded the island and took her face into his hands. “I loved you,” he said, “and you making that decision for me, without telling me, I lost precious years with him. Precious years I could have had with you.”

Nesta’s eyes fell shut. No lie had ever hurt as badly as telling Cassian she didn’t want to be with him anymore. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Of course, there were times she wished he was there. But knowing he was happy and living the life he’d always dreamed of, especially after his hard life… It had been worth the struggle.

“You couldn’t miss out on it,” Nesta said, quietly, her eyes shut. “I don’t regret it.” 

“I do,” he replied, without any hesitation. “I would’ve come back in a heartbeat, would have been a part of his life, a part of both of your lives, and I would have had no regrets, Nes.”

“Maybe not yet.” She shook her head, her eyes still shut. “But you would have regretted it, eventually.”

Cassian knew Nesta, and he knew that she was adamant, that her mind had been made up long ago. There was nothing he could say that would make her believe that she had made the wrong decision, and he knew when to stop trying.

He didn’t take his hands off her face.

“Why did you tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore?” He breathed.

She didn’t hesitate. “Because I knew it was the only way you’d let me go.”

He was shaking his head. “Damn it, Nesta, I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to spend forever with you. I wanted to have a family with you.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his eyes fell shut. “I just... I didn’t know I already had one coming.”

Nesta didn’t say she was sorry.

Cassian knew she wouldn’t, knew she would have stuck by what she had done, whether she was truly sorry or not. 

The hesitation in her eyes told Cassian that she may have thought she was sorry, after all.

“I could live without football, Nes.” Cassian whispered. “I could have done without it. It’s a game-.”

“We were young,” Nesta fought, quietly.

“It’s a fucking game,” he repeated, a little more bite in his voice. “Just a game.”

“That game was your life,” Nesta snapped.

“You were my fucking life,” he hissed.

“I won’t ever apologize for letting you live your dream.”

He asked, “And will you apologize for lying?”

Nesta blinked. “About what?”

His words were hard. “For telling me you didn’t love me.”

Shame flashed in Nesta’s eyes. “Of course I am.”

“And what about now?” He breathed.

“Now?” She asked.

“Are you sorry about it now?” He asked. “Do you still love me?”

The words hung in the air between them.

Nesta’s voice was barely audible when she said, “That’s not a fair question.”

Cassian fought the urge to laugh. What the hell did she know about fair? “Answer the question.” 

“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking as she shook her head. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” he asked, growing frustrated, and he hated being frustrated, because when he was frustrated he didn’t know how to handle it, not well. “Just answer the question, Nesta. Do you still love me?” 

“I’m not answering that,” she repeated, as a tear slid down her cheek.

“Because I still love you,” Cassian continued, pretending she hadn’t spoken, knowing she was still lying to his face. “I still love you, I have never stopped loving you, Nesta.”

“Cassian, we-.”

“Every year apart, every month, every day, I have always loved you. I’ve tried to get over you, I really have, but I can’t,” he breathed. “It’s always been you, it will always be you.”

She shook her head again, closing her eyes in a pointless attempt to stop the tears that ran down her face.

“If you don’t love me, just tell me.” The words hurt, even as he said them. “I’ll keep my feelings to myself, but I want to be in Rhett’s life. Please.”

The fact that he was putting her feelings before his own, putting Rhett above them… “I love you just as much today as I did the day I sent those damn text messages. I didn’t just break your heart that day,” Nesta breathed, looking up into his hazel eyes. “I broke my own, too.”

Cassian leaned down and pressed his forehead gently against hers. “I have waited years to hear you tell me that you love me,” he whispered. “Years.” 

Nesta let out a slow breath.

Cassian’s lips met hers. 

He wasted no time, didn’t even bother with a warning before he was sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. Nesta melted into him, finding just as much comfort as she always had in his arms.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and Cassian lifted her up, setting her on the counter and standing between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and let one of his hands thread through her hair, and-.

“Mommy?”

Cassian was jumping back and Nesta was pushing her hair back off of her face and dropping off the counter. “Hey, baby. I thought you were upstairs?”

But Rhett’s little gaze wasn’t on Nesta, it was on Cassian. “Why were you kissing my mommy?”

Even Cassian’s quick wit didn’t have an answer for that. Nesta was beet red so he knew she wasn’t going to be any help. He opened his mouth spew some some bullshit to hopefully chill the anger he could see growing in those little eyes, but he was surging across the kitchen and began battering his tiny fists against his stomach. “You can’t kiss my mommy, she’s waiting for my daddy!”

Cassian hesitated, but didn’t move, nor did he bother to ask the child to stop hitting him in the stomach. In fact, he simply put his hands in his pockets and let Rhett punch him again and again and again.

It reminded Cassian of himself at that age.

“Rhett,” Nesta demanded, now that she had regained her composure. “Stop. Now.” 

He was frowning, but he did just as his mother asked. 

“We do not hit,” Nesta chastised. “Now, apologize.”

Rhett crossed his little arms. “No.”

“It’s okay, he thinks he’s protecting you,” Cassian whispered. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Nesta said, not looking away from her son. “He knows better. Apologize, now.”

“But if you’re kissing him, what about my daddy?” He said, and his little lip was wobbling, but Nesta could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry.

Cassian’s heart broke watching the scene in front of him, watching his son. He wished he could say something, do something. But this wasn’t his call. He hadn’t been here for five years. Rhett had no idea who he was. He looked up at Nesta, seeing the battle she was having within herself.

She’s waiting for my daddy.

He realized what Rhett had said and he blinked once. He was unable to stop the words as he breathed, “You waited for me?”

“Not for you!” Rhett cried again. “For my daddy!”

But for once Nesta didn’t chastise her rambunctious son for screaming in the house. She was too busy looking at Cassian.

“It’s always been you,” she whispered, repeating his earlier words back to him.

Cassian longed to kiss her then, wanted to press his lips urgently against hers, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked down to Rhett. 

“He looks like me,” he whispered, then looked over at Nesta. “Sounds like me.”

“When he’s throwing a fit? Yeah, he does,” Nesta said, quietly, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her lips.

Rhett was still looking at Cassian when he scooted closer to Nesta and wrapped his little arms around her.

Nesta picked her son up, setting him down on the counter where she’d been sitting just a few seconds before. “Mommy’s always told you daddy would come home one day, right?”

He was looking between the two of them, suspiciously. He nodded.

“But that he was busy making sure we’d all have the best lives that we could?”

Another nod.

“Your daddy is finally here, buddy,” she said, softly. She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t know he was coming-.” A look at Cassian, who at least had the audacity to blush at intruding on her peaceful day and throwing the most amazing wrench into their lives. “But he’s here.”

[mrs-hatake]

why’d you only call me when you’re high

A/N: this spur of the moment fanfic is loosely based on a tiktok video by dabisjuicycums0ckk. enjoy!

p.s, i’m not sure who the owner of the gif is so if you do know please lmk and i’ll credit them!

also, a HUGE thanks to @runeterrankhaleesi​ for proof reading this fic for me!

The persistent vibration from your phone under your pillow disrupted your sleep.

Groaning, you flipped onto your side and pulled the blanket further above your head, hoping it would somehow block the vibration of your phone and allowing you to return to sleep.

Seconds later, the vibration stopped and you sighed in relief. Just as you were about to fall back into sleep, your phone vibrated again but this time, the action was small. This meant you had a message. Whatever, the person who was texting you at this ungodly hour can wait till the morning when you were awake and had plenty of sleep.

Your phone vibrates not five minutes later. Annoyed and the last bits of sleep had all but disappeared, you propped yourself on your elbow while your other hand searched for your phone under the pillow. Once you’ve come in contact with the rubber material of your phone case, you pulled your phone out and tapped on the screen.

Squinting at the harsh brightness of your phone, you waited until your eyes adjusted to the screen before blinking down at the notifications.

5 Missed calls from Dabi

The first notification had read.

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it and read the notification above it.

Answer your phone

Right now

Your breathing had become shallow and your heart quickened. Dabi was pissed. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Dabi it’s that he does not like to be kept waiting. And, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his fury, you heaved a heavy sigh and called him back. Noticing that it was just a few minutes past three in the morning.

“Took you long enough.” His rough voice greeted you after two rings. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Rolling your eyes, you calmly replied, “I was sleeping.” You hoped that your groggy voice would somehow inform him that you were too tired to do whatever shit he wanted.

“Well, too bad.” Dabi scoffed. “I need to see you.”

Your relationship with Dabi was an odd one.

The two of you have met about a year and a half now after you had encountered the scarred man near the piers one misty, Monday morning. You had been near the piers to meet with one of the loan sharks you had borrowed money from to extend the payment deadline. You never wanted to be associated with such people, but unfortunately, being a teacher doesn’t pay enough. Even though you worked at a prestigious school for up and coming young heroes, your income from that school couldn’t help pay the amount for your mother’s heart surgery. The bank would take too long. They’d have to take up your request to a committee to determine if they could lend you the money based on your yearly salary and how long it takes for you to pay them back. That could take months, maybe even years and you didn’t have time to wait. You were desperate and your mother was in a critical condition- she could die at any moment.

Searching through the dark web, you managed to find a loan shark that was highly respected by people who were in similar positions like you. If you could go back in time, you would’ve stopped yourself from borrowing money from them and wait for the bank’s approval. It’s too late now and what’s done is done. You just hoped that the school wouldn’t find out about this and risk losing your job.

You still trembled in fear whenever you remembered the goon asking you if you had their money. You could vividly hear the slight lisp in his words and could almost smell the scent of his cigar. “You got our money?” He asked in greeting.

Pulling your jacket closer to your body to protect you from the harsh and cold weather, you shook your head at them, “I would like an extension please. I’m close to paying you back. I just need more time.” You pleaded with wide and hopeful eyes. You knew that these people weren’t nice. You knew they’d kill anyone who wouldn’t pay them back. Still, it won’t hurt to ask. Right?

Wrong.

With a snap of the man’s fingers, a foot kicked the back of your knees causing you to fall harshly on the wet ground with a painful wail.

“What the fuck?!” You cried as you held your leg that was throbbing in pain. You let out a hiss as fingers dug themselves into your hair and gave a rough tug, pulling your head up to face the man with the cigar. “I said I’ll pay you back!”

The man let out a chuckle, “Sorry, babycakes. Boss doesn’t like to wait. If you don’t have his money by tonight…” He didn't finish his sentence for you to understand that these people were willing to kill you.

“I can’t save two million yen in one day!”

The man simply shrugged, as if to say, ‘Not my problem.’ “You can rob a bank for all I care.”

“You’re insane!”

The man’s expression darkened and he nodded at the man still clutching your hair tightly. Before you could process what else was going on, the man’s foot came into contact to your side. You couldn’t even scream as the man continued to kick you repeatedly.

Never in your life had you wished you had a quirk than you did at that moment. Curse your quirkless nature and curse the fact that you were only a home room teacher who taught quirk theoretics. If only you had one of your students' quirks, you would’ve fought back and escaped.

Suddenly, you felt an immense wave of heat and heard horrifying screams from above you. The man suddenly let go of your hair, screaming in pain, as the blue flames enveloped him, eating his skin and burning him. Then, he collapsed, his body on the ground still lit ablaze by the inferno. Your breath hitched at the sight.

Turning to your right, you saw a young man dressed in a long leather jacket with a crazed look in his eyes as he turned to face the man with the cigar, a wave of blue fire came from his palm and surged towards the man, ending his life instantly.

The smell of charred skin wafted your nose and you quickly vomited at the disgusting smell of burning flesh.

Once you’ve calmed down, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and glanced up at the deranged man looking down on you. “What have you done?” Your voice was shaky and your breathing was shallow.

This was bad. The two men you owed money to were dead. There was no way their boss wouldn’t find out about this. They’ll come for you and for that man with a fire quirk. And when you voiced your thoughts, the man just smirked. “I’d like to see them try.”

The glare in your eyes did nothing to diminish his amusement, “I can’t protect myself.” You spat at him.

He blinked lazily at you, his sapphire eyes glowing brightly. “Let’s make a deal. I offer my services to protect you-”

“I’m not going to pay you to protect me.” You interrupted him.

“Wasn’t asking for money.”

“Then what do you want.”

For the second time in your life, you wished you could go back in time to stop yourself from making stupid decisions.

Ever since that day, you’ve become Dabi’s sexual partner.

The two of you didn’t meet often, maybe once or twice every other month before parting ways and never having to see each other until Dabi needed you again.

Things were difficult at first. You had refused the man, almost laughing at the proposition. Dabi, however, had managed to convince you.

“You’ll die.” He had said.

And before you could say anything like I work at U.A, I have other people who can protect me. You remembered that the reason you were in this mess was because you had approached the loan sharks, borrowed money from them and had his goons killed. If the school found out...

The first night Dabi had called you was a week after the two of you had met. He had sent you the location to some cheap motel hidden deep within the city. Somewhere far from respectable neighborhoods and a place where no teacher such as yourself should be in.

Sex with Dabi was...an experience.

Dabi had a strict “Don’t ask, don’t talk” policy. You come, you get naked and you had sex. That’s it. He wouldn’t even offer to clean you up after sex- not that you were expecting him to, but he didn’t even bother cleaning up after himself either. Opted to wipe his dick clean with tissues before pulling his trousers back up and escaping through the motel window. Leaving the check-out procedure to you.

Somewhere down the road, things had shifted between the two of you. He’d call you more often. Your late night encounters becoming weekly rather every other month. His “Don’t ask, Don’t talk policy” had changed to “I ask, You answer”. And, instead of meeting at some shady motels, he’d spend the night with you. That happened when you had received a threatening letter which you instantly knew was from the loan sharks. The fact that they knew where you lived frightened you and the first thing that you did was call Dabi.

The first night Dabi spent in your apartment, he had scanned the entire place to make sure they didn’t bug you.

He had stood by the window, hidden by the thin material of your curtain, to keep an eye out for any suspicious-looking people.

Sleep didn’t come easy for you. Your head jerked whenever you closed your eyes for a couple of minutes. Images of Dabi lying dead on the ground with his blood staining your bedroom floor flashing before you.

“Hey.”

It took you a second to register that Dabi was sitting on the edge of your bed, his fingers tracing your leg that was hidden under the blanket, “You should sleep.” He whispered.

“I’m trying.” You mumbled in exhaustion. You could hear the concern in your colleagues’ voice the next morning when they asked about your well-being.

“They’re not going to hurt you.” His fingers were drawing random patterns on your leg, “I won’t let them.”

The softness of his voice and the way his fingers gliding up against your leg had managed to lull you to sleep.

This happened every night and on the tenth night Dabi had spent with you, you discovered that the man would stay up late, ensuring your safety, before leaving just before your alarm rang for work.

You had discovered this when you had woken up one night wanting to drink a glass of water found Dabi still sitting on the edge of your bed, his hand holding your ankle securely. The gesture did things to you; things you couldn’t understand. Not wanting to disturb the rare moment of vulnerability, you willed yourself back to sleep.

Even after Dabi had killed the man who was after you, Dabi didn’t stop his services. He no longer protected you, however, he still called you whenever he needed you to help relieve some of his tension. And somewhere along the road, you started developing feelings towards him.

Your newfound attachments crept up to you slowly.

There was a period of time where Dabi didn’t call you; didn’t seek for you in the late hours of the night. And your messages asking about his well-being went unanswered.

Don’t ask, don’t talk.

You craved his rough touches.

His deep voice calling your name and whispering filthy things in your ear that you knew you should be ashamed instead of feeling turned on.

The way he’d grunt and moan, his fingers holding onto your hips so tightly that you’d often wake up the next day with bruises.

“Y/N? Y/N?” The sound of Dabi calling your name brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You cleared your throat and inwardly cursed the fact that you were fully awake and had no intentions of going back to sleep. “What were you saying?”

“Open the window, I’m outside.”

To say that you were surprised that Dabi was outside of your window was understatement. He didn’t like to be kept waiting so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Dabi was already outside waiting for you. You wouldn’t put past him if he had been outside your window the second he started calling you.

After ending the call, you unlocked your window to let Dabi in and returned to sit on the edge of your bed.

Dabi had sauntered his way in, standing the middle of your bedroom, as if he owned the place- as if he owned you.

It pained you to see Dabi in all of his glory.

After not seeing him for months and worrying about him all that time, he texted you after so long, only for his selfish desires. Your messages of asking about his whereabouts and if things were alright were left unanswered.

It killed you that he ignored you like that, kept you in the dark while he was gallivant somewhere doing God knows what, while you worried over him that even the other teachers had taken notice of the dark and deep circles appearing under your eyes.

Truly, it was unfair.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked with a sly smirk on his charred lips, “You’re normally so eager to see me.” And crept his way towards your bed and placed both of his scarred hands on either sides of your thighs, trapping you.

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against your neck and took a deep inhale, his eyes closing at your addicting scent. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and we’ll see if daddy can fix it?”

You lifted your hands upwards and rested upon his shoulders and pushed him away in annoyance.

But Dabi didn’t budge as his hands still caged you securely. Removing one of his hands from your bed, he cupped your cheeks and roughly caressed your soft skin. He had a glint in his sapphire eyes which reminded you of just how dangerous he truly was.

Slowly, as if to not frighten his prey away, Dabi leaned in and roughly kissed you.

Despite the kiss being languid, it was sloppy. Drool dripped down your chin as Dabi’s hand trailed from your cheek to your neck and squeezed. Dabi took advantage of your gasp and shoved his tongue all the way in. The metal ball of his piercing felt cold against the roof of your mouth.

It didn’t take you long to give in and ease into the kiss, shoulders sagging in relaxation as his one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Dabi tilted his head and deepened the kiss in a certain way that made your eyes roll backwards in delight. It was an invitation for you to bury your fingers deep in his thick tuft of hair, roughly tugging at the dyed locks.

All too soon, Dabi broke the kiss and you almost whined at the loss until you felt his scarred lips attached themselves to your neck. His hand trailed up your neck then to your cheek and titled your chin upwards to have better access.

His kisses were fervent.

His tongue lapped at your neck and you shivered at the way his tongue piercing felt against your skin. The cold metal rapidly cooled your warm skin.

A broken moan fell from your lips as he bit your neck. Chuckling, he reattached his mouth to your neck and sucked with all of his might. Once he was satisfied, he darted his tongue and licked a long stripe upwards until his lips found yours again.

His tongue against yours.

His hand squeezing your neck.

The heat between your legs.

It was all too much for you to handle.

You’ve missed Dabi so much.

Missed the way he looked at you with mischief in his eyes before he would touch you. Missed the way he would grunt your name in your ear when he was close to coming undone. But most of all, you had missed how good Dabi made you feel. A soft whimper fell from your lips when you felt a single tear roll down your cheek and make its way into the kiss. A single tear turned to two. Then three. Until they became so many that you lost track of them.

The kiss turned bitter as you remembered the suffocating loneliness you had felt the past couple of months when Dabi had ignored you. How you would clutch onto your phone and stare at your screen, waiting for Dabi to text or call you. At how it was arduous for you to fall asleep, disquiet over Dabi’s well-being.

The hand on your neck trailed to the back of your head and gripped on the locks of hair on the nape of your neck and pulled your head backwards. “What’s this?” Dabi asked, breaking the kiss.

Your cheeks glistened with tears still falling.

Dabi was staring down at you in disappointment. You felt ashamed and turned your head to look away from those alluring blue eyes. But the hand on your chin prevented  you from doing so.

“You really went and did it, didn’t you.” Dabi sighed in despondency, his fingers tapping your cheeks. “You really want to give me your little heart. That’s cute~”

He cupped your chin harshly and forced you to stare in his blue eyes that danced wildly just like his flames. “But it’s not something that I want.”

“What about what I want?” You whispered, ignoring the way Dabi’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

Dabi said nothing and instead, leaned in and kissed your lips again in a harsh kiss. And you allowed him to take control. To have his way with you and do whatever pleased him. Because the look of disappointment he had displayed earlier was unbearable.

Dissatisfying Dabi was far more important than what you wanted- what you needed from the wanted criminal. The last thing you wanted was for him to end whatever it was going on between you.

So you let him ruin you, taint you and make you cry in pleasure and dejection. Your moans were desperate, begging and pleading for him; For his touches, his kisses and for his name to fall from his lips.

And when he was done with you, his needs fulfilled and his thirst quenched, he silently left through the window just as the sun began to peak its way through the horizon.

When you step into your office the next day, your colleague Aizawa was there to silently greet you with a warm cup of coffee as always. Whether he had noticed the puffiness of your eyes and the red tint at the corner from all those hours of crying, he said nothing and you didn’t care.

Aizawa quietly watched as you lifelessly stared down at your phone. It was a known fact that Aizawa was the least sociable person in school, if not the whole world. So, going out of his way to interact with people was out of the question. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your small talk. Which is why he noticed the gradual shift in you.

The way you’d arrive in school with smiles and eyes twinkling brighter than the stars at night- How those stars slowly dimmed and died out one autumn evening, those orbs never leaving the phone in your hand. The way you’d tap on the screen to see if you had a new message or an incoming call.

It was difficult for him to not notice those dark circles under your eyes, darker and more prominent than his own. He wanted to reach out to you, to ask if you were alright but the emptiness in your eyes had him hesitating. He had never seen you so lifeless, so vulnerable. Just as he opened his mouth to ask you the question that was eating him alive- to know what had you so depressed, the first bell rang and he watched as you dragged yourself to your first class.

[ipuckwithhockey]

Every New Beginning- M. Raffl

a/n: I couldn’t sleep last night so here’s almost 4k words of me missing Raff already. 

summary: You and Michael had a good thing going for nearly five years but when reality sets in you both start to think that all good things must come to an end. 

warnings: Swearing

When you left your patient’s room and headed to the nurse’s station you weren’t expecting to see a six-foot redhead waiting for you. Sure, he’s visited you at work occasionally and you don’t mind that he’s here now, but those visits in the past were always planned in advanced, were usually accompanied with a quick lunch, and didn’t take place at 10pm on a Monday. 

You met Michael a few years ago when you moved to Philly to start your residency at U-Penn’s hospital. You were just out of medical school and still focused on achieving your lofty career goals and Michael was in his prime playing for the Flyers. Neither one of you had any intention of settling down or putting in the time and effort required in a serious relationship and so the two of you fell into a casual relationship that consisted mostly of late-night activities after you were both done with your shifts. 

You were only twenty-five back then, and now you were pushing thirty. Eventually that casual relationship evolved into something more, and now you weren’t just fuck buddies, you were actually the best of friends. But even though you considered each other best friends neither of you ever made any move to solidify what the relationship that had spawned from late night texts had actually become. 

Your family and friends all wondered why you hadn’t settled down and they asked why you insisted on keeping a casual hook up around for almost five years when you were getting the age when a woman should be finding a man to marry. Michael’s family and teammates all pestered him for never making it official between the two of you, and never understood why he insisted that the two of you were just friends. But that’s all you were. You were friends. Friends that liked to have sex, friends that only thought of each other when anything particularly good or bad had happened, friends who spent the little free time they had with each other. 

And maybe the reason why you hadn’t ever stopped sleeping with Michael was because a small part of you knew you had feelings for him, but maybe it was also because you work nearly 80 hours a week and don’t have the time nor the energy to date at the end of the work day. 

Maybe the reason why Michael never tried to make you his was because he knew you were too good for him, too smart, and too beautiful. Or maybe it was because he had tried dating when he was younger and every girl he met was too annoying, too fake, or too greedy. Maybe the dynamic you had together was just too easy to ever change. 

But life isn’t fair, and just like the old saying, all good things must come to an end. 

“Hey! What are you doing here? Everything alright? You look perfectly healthy and I’m a pediatrician so if you’re sick, you’re in the wrong wing of the hospital.” You joke as you walk up to him where he’s waiting at the nurse’s station and you drop off some charts before turning your full attention to the man who had been patiently waiting for you. You still had your nose in your patient’s charts when you walked up to him, and so you hadn’t noticed the tired look in his eyes, and you hadn’t seen him nervously popping his knuckles as you approached. In fact, when you’re at work, especially during a long shift, you’re usually so focused on your patients that you don’t notice much of anything else in general. Which is why you had also missed the phone call and text that Michael had sent you hours prior, and the messages your friends scattered around Philly had sent with condolences and sentiments of shock. 

Michael knows now, with your lighthearted joke, that you don’t know. That you hadn’t seen his call or his text from earlier. And when he doesn’t say anything at first and you see that serious look in his eyes your attitude changes from lighthearted to concerned, “Is everything okay?” And while Michael knows that everything is not okay, he also knows that this isn’t a medical emergency, at least not one that can be fixed. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to come by before heading out.” He says, and even though he knows you don’t know, he doesn’t have the guts to come out and say it just yet. There’s a look of confusion on your face, “I didn’t think you guys left for the west coast until next week? Or are these 24 hour shifts finally getting to me?” You try and make light of the situation even though that look concern is still spreading across Michael’s face. 

“Yeah, the guys don’t head out until next Wednesday…” He says it and he can see the wheels in your head start to turn. That’s when you remember what day it is and your heart plummets. You’ve been working third shift, and you were two hours away from finishing your current 24-hour shift. The last 22 hours have been pretty hectic, and the thought of the NHL’s trade deadline had completely slipped your mind— until now. 

“Can um- Can we walk outside real quick?” You ask and you don’t really give him time to answer, instead you just head down the hall and out the side door to a small courtyard and Michael follows behind you. When you’re both outside, you’re still processing what he said when Michael interjects, “I’m just on my way to catch my flight. I wanted to come by to see you before I left.” 

You nod your head, and you don’t know what to say so you step into him and wrap your arms around his steady body and his arms wrap around yours, “Where are you going?” You whisper against his chest, and you focus on his heartbeat thumping against your ear. 

“D.C.” He says simply. That’s not too far you think. But you also knew that this was a possibility, him getting traded, and you know that his current contract ends this summer. He could end up anywhere in the league next year. 

“I’m sorry.” He says it as his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you let out a sigh before letting your arms drop from around him as you step back. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” and you say it just as simply. 

“Then why do I feel so guilty?” And that’s what breaks your heart. You’re both standing in front of each other, and after five years you know each other well enough to know that this thing between the two of you is more than just another friendship. And while you both hate yourselves for never making this what it could have been, you also know that it wouldn’t change what’s happening now. You were still working toward your goals and so was he, nothing about that has changed. There’s nothing to say in that moment, nothing either of you could say to make it feel like you haven’t wasted the last five years, and so Michael places his hands on either side of your face before bringing your lips to his. 

It’s a gentle kiss, and as your lips move slowly against his you know that this moment is full of words that neither one of you can speak. When Michael finally pulls away from you he sees the tears running down your face, and you try to to look away even though his hands are keep you steady in front of him. His thumbs gently run across your cheeks and you let your eyes close as he wipes away the tears you selfishly let fall. You know that this has to be harder for him. He’s leaving his life in Philly behind, his teammates, his best friends, and you. 

You bring your hands up to gently remove his from where they still rest on either side of your face, “You’re going to miss your flight.” 

He nods reluctantly in agreement, and he places on more kiss on your forehead before he turns to leave. Michael never was one for many words, and he doesn’t have to say it, you’re sure you know how he feels and you know he’ll miss you just like he knows you feel the same way for him. 

*

Two Years Later (July) 

You finally feel like you’ve settled into your new place, even though it’s been almost six months since you moved. Moving back home to Seattle was an easy decision, especially when one of the country’s best Pediatric Nephrology programs calls and offers you an attending position. 

You set out at an early age to be a doctor. In high school you decided you wanted to be a surgeon. In college you decided you wanted to go into pediatrics. In medical school you decided you wanted to study kidneys. Everything you wanted for your career had happened and now you’re a nephrology specialist and surgical attending at Seattle Children’s Hospital. 

You should be ecstatic. You should be over the moon that everything you thought you could ever want had happened. You should feel grateful that you get to live in the city you grew up in and that you can spend as much time with your family as you’d like. You should be happy, but you aren’t. 

After Michael was traded to the Capitals you stayed in touch, calling and texting when you could. You spent the night together when they played the Flyers for the last time that season, but when summer rolled around, and he signed a two-year contract with them you knew you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would never work. When you called to congratulate him on his contract, he could sense that something was off, he could hear in your voice that you weren’t yourself, and when he asked you couldn’t lie. 

You told him you thought that whatever was going on between the two of you needed to end. You embellished with some lies, telling him that you needed to be focusing on your work and that you were getting too old to have a fuck-buddy, especially when he was living 150 miles away, and when he started to protest you were quick to shut him down. You told him that you both knew that it couldn’t last forever and that it was okay because all good things must end, and as much as you tried to convince yourself that what you were saying was true, you knew that you didn’t believe any of it. You knew that you loved him and that you wouldn’t find another man that knew you the way he did. But you also knew that your worlds were only growing further and further apart. 

The next year or so was hard. You stopped returning Michael’s calls and you distanced yourself from anyone who was associated with hockey. You threw yourself into your work and your patients and before you knew it a year had passed. As much as you knew that you were only barely keeping your head above water, you also had no idea how to fix whatever mess you had made for yourself. You were thirty-one years old, married to your job, and single. Oh, and still in love with a guy you knew you couldn’t have. 

You weren’t sure what to do or if there was anything you could do, but when Seattle Children’s called and made you an offer you took it as a sign. Your parents were thrilled that you were moving home, and you thought that this was a change that you needed. Something to break up the monotony. Something to shake up your life and to help you get back on track. The excitement you had mustered up for your new position was met with an amazing medical program, but you still had that same empty feeling you had when you were back in Philadelphia. So, you did what you did best, and you continued to work your ass off. Morning, noon, and night you were working with patients and roaming the halls of the hospital, but when your shift inevitably ends you find yourself backing your apartment… alone. 

You’ve never been one for TV and now that you try to avoid hockey all together, you don’t usually watch any at all, but tonight you just felt an itch to reach for the remote that rests on your coffee table. You turn on some random sportscast in the background while you scroll through emails on your phone, and you almost miss it but your well-trained ears pick up on the familiar name. 

“Michael Raffl signing a one-year contract with the Seattle Kraken is probably the most surprising thing to come from this off season so far!” The moderator on the TV says and you have to shake your head as if to wake yourself from what feels like a dream. Your hand instinctively reaches for the remote to turn up the volume and you continue to listen to what the talking heads have to say. 

“You know, everyone thought he’d be retiring this year, he’s 34 and has a nice chunk of change in his bank account, I’m surprised he isn’t heading back to Austria.” 

“I think this could actually be a good signing for them. They need some veteran presence on their young team and Raffl brings experience and a solid presence on the third or fourth lines. He could really bring something different to their game.”

“They’re getting him for cheap too! It’s seems to me like he’s interested in the team or just wants to keep playing if he’s taking this kind of deal.”

You can’t believe what they’re saying. Michael signed a one-year contract in Seattle. And while you don’t keep up with hockey anymore, you remember from all the conversations you’ve had with him, he had already been thinking about retiring in a few years back when he was traded to the Capitals. Why would he sign a mediocre contract with a team on the other side of the country for one year? But you don’t let yourself go where your heart wants to take you. You’re sure he doesn’t even know that you’ve moved from Philadelphia and even if he did, you’re sure he wouldn’t have signed with a team just because you were going to be in the same city. 

It’s been two years. It’s in the past. 

*

Six Months Later (December 31st) 

You’re not sure what you’re doing here. You’re in dress that’s probably too short and too tight, and your feet are killing you. But you let your co-worker, Jen, drag you out for New Year’s Eve. She’s a twenty-seven-year-old Nurse from your department and while she’s sweet and fun, she’s also almost five years younger than you and her stamina for nights out is a lot better than yours. You spend most your time at the hospital and when you’re not there you’re with your family or opting for a nice dinner or quiet bar instead of crowded clubs and house parties. 

You’re sure that most of the people in this club are closer to Jen’s age than to yours, but you put a smile on your face anyway and try to have fun. Jen’s fiancé has been stuck to her side all night, and even though some of your single co-workers are out with you too, you still feel a bit out of place. After the fourth twenty-something guy approaches you, drunk, and with a not-so-charming pickup line, you’re ready to head for home. It’s just about 11:45, and you think that if you can get an Uber you can be home before the ball drops. 

You’re just about to make your move toward the doors when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The uninvited hand only adds to your desire to leave, but when you hear a familiar voice in your ear you stop dead in your tracks. The hand is still touching you and his body is now close against your back when you hear him say your name for the first time in years. 

You turn quickly and you swear you’re hallucinating but when your feet trip from your swift movement and he quickly steadies you with his arms, you know he’s really there. 

“Michael… Wh-What are you doing here?”  Nothing feels like the right thing to say. Michael isn’t sure what words to use either, even though he’s replayed this moment in his head a million times by now. He’s practically run through every possible scenario of running in to you. If it was in the grocery, surely it would happen in the frozen section. It would probably be around 1am and you’d both be there to grab a pint of ice cream. If it was at a coffee shop, you’d be ordering your usual latte with almond milk and he would be ordering his black coffee to-go. He even imagined it happening at one of his games. But when some of the young single guys finally got him to agree to come out tonight, he hadn’t thought about the possibility he would find you in a club in downtown Seattle on New Year’s Eve. 

“I live here.” He says it matter-of-factly over the loud music blaring around you and your first instinct is to say, “I know.” 

He knows that coming out here was a risk and he knows that it’s been two years and he knows that you’ve probably moved on, but hearing you say that you knew he had been here all this time and hadn’t reached out made his heart hurt with a pang of disappointment. And for a minute you’re just standing there with people rushing around you, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You’re not sure what this “moment” is for or why now of all times the two of you are faced with each other again after all these years. 

You decide you don’t have anything to say, and you just shake your head, “I can’t do this.” You say it quietly but bluntly before moving from his grasp and weaving through the crowd of people on your way to the door. When you make it outside you don’t realize that he’s followed you and when you reach the sidewalk you hear him call your name as he comes up behind you. 

“Wait. Please.” He begs as he reaches for your arm.  

“What?! What do you want from me?” You ask as your turn to face him, and it’s more of plead because you realize now, in the cool winter air that your chest hurts from heartbreak that’s two years old, and your mind is racing with what he could possibly say to make up for the seven years of avoiding those feelings. You’ve thought about what you would say to him if you ever saw him again, but now all those rehearsed lines have vanished and for some reason you’re angry. Angry with him. Angry with yourself. Angry that you’ve wasted over half of a decade loving him. 

He lets go of your hand and he anxiously runs his hands through his hair, and now, thankfully all those scenarios he’s run through his head are coming to true, “I just want you to know that I loved you.” He says but all you hear is past tense. “I loved you from the first night I met you. God. You were so smart I had no clue what you were talking about, but I knew I wanted to listen. I loved you for five fucking years and never had the balls to tell you.”

“And then reality set in and I got traded and you shut me out- And I don’t blame you for that either.” He interrupts himself. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of waiting or for knowing that you deserved more, and I thought that you were right, all good things have to end. And I really thought that I would get over it and that maybe I’d find someone who was half as good as you who would make me happy enough, but I never did.” His eyes are bright and searching yours for some indication that you’re hearing what he’s saying, but your facial expression hasn’t changed, and you stand there staring back at him blankly. “I never stopped loving you. And I know that it’s selfish but when I heard you moved and Seattle offered me a contract, I had to take it. If not for the opportunity to keep playing, then for a chance to at least tell you how I’ve always felt about you. How I feel about you now.”  

He’s still trying to figure out if you’ve heard anything he’s said but when you let a little laugh and shake your head in disbelief, he knows he’s too late. So he presses his lips together tightly, and lets his head fall in defeat as he starts to turn away from you. 

You’re so taken aback by everything he’s said. It’s like you knew everything he just told you all along, but hearing him say it aloud, hearing him mirror exactly how you’ve felt for the last seven years, you know that this is one of those moments that life gives you that you can’t pass up. And just as your mind is catching up, Michael is moving to turn away from you, but before he can turn his back your hand is gripping his shirt and pulling him into you. 

When your lips collide the weight that has rested on your shoulders for the last two years is finally lifted and your bodies sink into each other the way water fills an empty glass. You’re consumed in each other as your mouths reacquaint each other and your tongues dance together like they did so many years ago just as you hear the city around you counting down, “5…4…3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!” 

And when you pull apart from each other, his arms still holding your waist and your hands still in his hair, you take a moment to take each other in. He’s older now and the features of his face are deeper, but his eyes still make you feel warm and safe and happy. He swears you look the same as the last day he saw you in Philly, and the warmth of your soft skin against his hands and the way you still have that same sheepish look after he kisses you, makes him feel like that twenty-five-year-old kid he was all those years ago.  And yet, after all this time, now you finally know that every ending is just a new beginning. 

[anjuschiffer]

[Mutuals]

Some more self-indulgent writing! Mainly because of a post @zestyzealot reblogged a while back and inspired this piece. 

(This is the post I’m referring to!)

Enjoy!

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @polyvirnl

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Context: There’s no miraculouses. None. Nada. But the Bats still exist. Marinette uses her time to expand her brand MDC

-----

AO3

-----

Marinette huffed as she placed the last crystal bead onto the hem of the black skirt in her hands. 

Bringing it to eye level, a wide smile graced her lips, a smile breaking as Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her vision become reality.

Finally! After four long and exhausting days, it was done. When she started on Monday night, Marinette wondered if this project would get in the way of her weekly sleepover with Alya. Thank God it didn’t.

Placing the skirt on her bed, Marinette smiled as she took a picture of her latest piece for her new collection: 12 o’ clock.

That’s when the hatch on her floor opened up with a creak, Marinette watching as her father poked his head into her room. Why was he here?

“Marinette, there’s someone here looking for you.” He said, giving a side glance down below. “Please tell me he’s just a school friend and not another boy you asked to model for you.”

“Dad, I already told you, Luka is Juleka’s older brother, he- wait, he? It’s not Alya?” Marinette asked, wondering where her best friend was at. 

Yes, Alya gave her a heads up that she was running late for their sleepover, but she wasn’t downstairs yet? And her father had said ‘he’ instead of a guy friend’s name, so… who exactly was waiting for her downstairs? 

Because despite only saying the name once, her father tended to commit to memory the names of all of her male friends. “What does he look like?” 

“Well, he’s a bit on the short side,” Tom started, “has green eyes, tanned, wearing a turtleneck with some of those suit pants-”

“Slacks.” Marinette helped.

“Those,” Tom corrected himself, “and he has a dog with him.” Tom ended, watching as Marinette mumbled to herself.

Marinette didn’t know anyone with a dog, nonetheless with that type of fashion, causing Marinette to start pacing around her room, racking up some idea as to who it was that was in the living room. “He called the dog Titus, if memory serves me correctly. Or if I heard correctly for that matter.”

That caused Mari to stop in her tracks.

A turtleneck with slacks, a Great Dane named Titus, tanned skin...emerald eyes.

“No. Way.” Marinette quickly motioned her father to go down the ladder, quickly following him into the living room, her eyes widening upon seeing her theory be true.

There, standing inside the Dupain-Cheng living room was Damian Wayne with his dog, Titus.

“Took you long enough.” Damian said, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Titus wagged his tail as he saw his boy open the bag and give him his toy. 

Just then, the door swung open, Alya panting as she dropped to the floor as soon as she walked in.

“Girl, you wouldn’t believe who I just saw! There, as soon as I turned the corner of where I lived, I saw the Damian Wayne with his dog, and- why is he in your living room?” 

“Seeing as you finally caught up,” Damian said, walking over to Alya, handing her a heavy plastic bag. “Take care of Titus while we’re out.”

“We?” “We?” “We?!”  Alya, Tom and Marinette spoke at the same time, although Marinette’s came out as a squeak.

“Did you forget what you told me?” Damian waved his phone that was in his hand. Marinette watched as he showed her a tweet...her tweet in particular, Marinette now going into a state of panic. “You invited me to egg-” Marinette screamed, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she lowered his phone and dragged him out the apartment, leaving behind a confused Tom and a giddy Alya. 

———

“You actually read that?” Marinette asked once more, covering her cheeks as they walked towards the park square. 

“I did.” Damian hummed as he adjusted the egg cartoons under his arm, a dangerous twinkle in his emerald eyes. 

Marinette let out a silent screech, confusing Damian. “Did you think I wouldn’t read it?” When he saw her nod, he sighed. “I read every comment left under any post I write. Sure, I don’t respond to any of them, but your comment… seemed… interesting.”

Marinette wanted to disappear into a black hole. Damian actually read that stupid comment she had left under his post. 

It was a post from earlier that week - a picture Damian had uploaded from the recent animal shelter he was volunteering at (as well as funding). 

Another post about an animal up for adoption, this time, a hamster named Louis. 

Marinette was scrolling through the comments under the post after retweeting it, when a particular one caught her attention.

-

<3 ACNH is Life <3 @eliza_beth 

Replying to @Real_BloodSon I have a pet chicken and just wanted to ask if the candle method is a good method to check for egg development.  If so, then are they safe to eat? If not, what’s a better method?

-

Everyone knew Damian loved to offer help when it came to animals -as it was no secret- but something stupid inside of Marinette thought she should do the only logical thing in her mind.

She commented on it.

-

Deadlines Are Approaching @a_mari_not_bug

Replying to @eliza_beth and @Real_BloodSon If it turns out that it is a good method, can I have some eggs? I’ve been wanting to egg someone's house as of late. @Real_BloodSon care to join?

-

Marinette didn’t think he would actually read it, let alone actually come. Wait…

Damian lives in the US, not France, unlike her. 

So how did he know where she lived, let alone reside?

“How did you know where I live?” Marinette asked, realizing they were finally at the park, right across from the targeted house, not even realizing that she had brought him over to the house in question.

Damian blinked, setting the cartons down onto the bench.

“Tsurugi told me.”

“You know Tsurugi. As in Kagami Tsurugi?” Marinette asked, wondering where he had met her friend. 

Damian nodded.

“We met during the semifinals for the international fencing competition.” 

Oh. So that’s how they knew each other. 

Damian let a smirk grace his lips. “Obviously, I won.” 

Marinette simply looked at him in awe, causing Damian’s ego to soar more. Of course, that didn’t overcome the other feeling he had inside his chest.

After all, there was no way he was going to tell her that he has been following her account for quite a while. 

So using the amounts of aesthetic pictures, selfies, bakery promos and mini photo shoots, it didn’t take long for Damian to pinpoint where she lived. 

That’s not following Damian. It’s called stalking. 

Okay Drake, but in his defense:

1- it was his side account that he uses for his own personal interests.

Damian didn’t exactly like having thousands of people following him because he was a Wayne. He wanted to be followed for being Damian. 

2- he had been following her for quite a while.

Two solid years to be exact. 

After exchanging social media accounts with Kagami, Marinette was one of the few people Twitter recommended to follow.

Marinette peaked his curiosity when Kagami mentioned Marinette being the person behind her “lucky” fencing bag. (Although, she didn’t want to admit that she used it as a luck charm.) It was an all black duffel bag, enchanting golden embroidery that collected to a single dragon. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami had provided. A girl in her grade from her school in France, who designed the most intricate designs Damian had seen. (Yes, he has seen all of her sketches and final products of the things she had designed…yes it did involve scrolling through her photos and accidentally liking all of them as he went…)

3- it was too late to press that “follow” button when he already kinda didn’t do it as soon as she followed his own account. 

When he finally noticed that she did already follow him, he didn’t know what to do. Should he follow her back? 

“Not yet.” Dick had told him. But just how long did he have to wait? He was stupid for listening to Dick’s advice and he definitely wasn’t going to follow her back now. Or should he?

“So,” Marinette started again, looking around the area, scanning to see that no one saw them. “Have you ever done this before?”

“As in egging a house?” Damian watched as Marinette nodded, wondering if this was her first time doing this. “No, but it shouldn’t be any different than throwing snowballs.” Damian compared, remembering last year’s winter. 

Jon had managed to convince the Wayne’s and the Kent’s to do a snowball fight. 

The Wayne’s obviously won. 

“Guess you have a point.” Marinette replied, attempting to vision Damian’s analogy. She picked up an egg and looked at it and then at the window of the person who had been causing her turmoil these past few days. “Are you… are you sure you want to go with this?”

“Aren’t you?” Damian asked, awaiting Marinette’s signal. He had perfectly balanced a dozen eggs into the nook of his arm, one being juggled in his other hand. 

He was ready and from the twinkle in his eyes, eager to throw. 

Marinette found herself smiling, letting out a laugh as she grabbed a few eggs herself and balanced them in her hand. 

“Between you and I, I've been dreaming of doing this for the longest.” Marinette said with the biggest grin Damian had seen her with that night. “Ready?”

“Always.” Damian replied, mirroring her grin as the two looked at the target, Marinette throwing the first attack.

-

Bonus: 

Marinette hummed as she doodled in her sketchbook, her mind wandering to last night’s events. 

She hadn’t known how much stress she had built up thanks to Lila and her constant need to be the attention of everything. 

The messes Marinette had to clean up due to Lila causing disorder during class and after class, all because of Lila and her gazillion and one ‘medical’ problems.

Marinette didn’t realize how emerged she was towards throwing eggs -with great accuracy- towards Lila’s bedroom window until she threw her last egg.

She remembered how satisfying it was to have thrown all of those eggs at the window, that glee when Damian smiled at her. 

How happy she was when Damian complimented her for her graceful and precise throws despite the low lightning of the park lights. 

Marinette placed her pencil down as she finished adding some last minute touches to the coat she had finished designing when Alya slammed her hands in front of her. Marinette quickly looked up at her friend, tilting her head when she was met with twinkling eyes.

“Did you hear what happened to Lila last night?” Alya whispered, causing Marinette to quickly tense. 

“N-no? What happened?” Marinette asked, closing her sketchbook. 

“Her house got egged. Well, her bedroom window did.” Alya corrected herself, watching as Marinette let out a gasp.

“No way! Poor Lila.” Marinette looked over to Lila, watching as she was surrounded by their classmates to gather to listen to her woeful story. “Who would ever do such a thing?”

“Beats me.” Alya said, looking at Marinette, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Damian wouldn’t happen to have been involved-”

“Us?” Marinette instigated, causing Alya to lean forward. “You think Damian and I would do something that stupid and not think of the consequences that awaited us? No way.” Marinette denied, causing Alya to sigh.

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t be up to it. Only you would step down after overthinking about the consequences.” Alya said as she patted her head before taking a few steps from Marinette. “Not like anyone would know who it was since the security cameras of the area seemed to have gone off at that time, strangely enough. Maybe if I hear what Lila has to say about the event, I’ll get some hints as to who it was.”

With that, Alya left to go and listen to Lila, leaving Marinette by herself.

Finally alone, Marinette let out a sigh, feeling her back relax. She felt as a smile rose to her face. 

Giddily, she took out her phone to send Damian a text when a Twitter notification caught her attention. 

She quickly checked it, her smile growing even more. She went back to sending Damian a text.

You bugged the cameras last night?

Damian: A necessary precaution. 

Marinette giggled at his response.

Also, I saw you started following me. Now we’re mutuals! 

Damian liked your message.

Damian: It was only a matter of time, seeing as we egged your enemy’s home.

More like someone I dislike.

Damian: Same thing. 

Damian: Query. Would you like to join Titus and I for a walk at the park? 

Sure! Class ends at 3. Meet you then?

Damian: Titus and I would await you then.

Marinette grinned as she placed her phone away as the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. 

She couldn’t wait to spend time with her newfound friend! Who knows what mischief awaited the two!

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 10

Masterlist || AO3 ||  Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary:  Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up  for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: Mild cursing. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

A/N: This chapter is even longer than the last one, at 4k words. Also, you’re welcome in advance.

That Sunday was one of the busiest at the café. Students were streaming in to work on all their assignments before Thanksgiving break, and by the time they caught a break, Jude was out of breath.

“Damn, I don’t think it’s ever been this busy,” Lili said, wiping her forehead.

“No wonder no one else wanted this shift.”

Lili groaned. “I have to go home and write not two, but three essays. I know I shouldn’t have procrastinated, but it was my birthday week.”

“I’ll help you edit them if you want,” Jude offered. For some reason, she actually enjoyed editing essays, and Lili had definitely taken advantage of that in the past. “And you know it’s called birthday, not birth week,” Jude snarked.

“Shut up, Ms. I-made-googly-eyes-with-Cardan-all-night.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did. Now please tell me what happened, because I know something did. The sexual tension when you guys came back down was disgusting.”

Thankfully, Jude was saved by a customer who had walked in. But Lili was stubborn, and after Jude took her order, she pressed, “Nope. Spill.”

Jude grimaced before recounting the incident, which she now referred to in her head as ‘the bathroom incident.’

Lili gasped comically. “Oh my God. Cardan has more game than I expected. Kissing your thumb after band aiding it? Hold on.” She called out the customer’s name, leaving the drink on the counter, before returning. “Damn, that’s smooth.”

Jude groaned. “I know.”

“Wait, did anything happen when he drove you home?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Jude blushed even more as she remembered the drive. They had been bickering as usual, as if that could stop them both from thinking about the increasing tension between them.      

And then the silence they’d both been avoiding like cowards descended. The painful, awkward as hell silence.

By the time they got to her house, Jude was anxious to get out of the car. She reached for the door handle right as Cardan spoke, staring straight ahead. “So we’re really not going to talk about it?”

She froze, not expecting them to address it. “Talk about what?”

“Jude.”

“Cardan,” she mimicked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine then.” He pushed his door open at the same time as Jude.

“What are you doing?” “Walking you to your door.”

“I can walk to my door by myself.” Her foot caught on the edge of the sidewalk, and she’d stumbled before righting herself.

“Righttt,” Cardan drawled and followed her up the sidewalk.

She ignored him, pulling out her keys and unlocking the front door. “Okay, you can go now, loser.”

“Weirdo,” Cardan said.

“You’re a weirdo.”

Cardan snickered. “Nice comeback.”

“Shut up.” She felt his gaze on her back and was thankful for the dark, because she was blushing for no reason.

“You shut up.”

They both snickered like the immature idiots they were, and Jude knew she had steered clear of the conversation for now.

When Cardan reached his car, he hollered. “We’re going to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she hollered right back.

Cardan just grinned. “See you tomorrow, Duarte.”

Her expression must have been doing something weird at the memory, because Lili snorted. “You’re in deep shit.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Um, maybe first off, actually admit you like him?”

“I do not.”

The Bomb raised her eyebrows.

Jude groaned. “I can’t like him. Not him of all people.”

“But you doooo,” the Bomb sing songed. “You and Cardan are in-”

“Lili, I will not help you edit your essay if you don’t shut up right now.”

She went silent immediately. “That’s just cruel.”

Jude grinned. “So… how’s Van?”

Lili glared. “You’re not subtle at all.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

She wiped down the counter, silent for a beat before she sighed. “Fine. He’s just- I think I need to move on.” Jude opened her mouth to interrupt, but the Bomb continued. “I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, I think he likes me like that, but I don’t know… he’s always so skittish when I try to take things further. And I don’t want to ruin things between us.”

Jude knew there was more to the story, but before she could say anything, a group of girls entered the café, and Jude had to take their orders. She dismissed it, figuring she’d bring it up later.

 ~~~

Jude didn’t see Cardan at school the next two days. Meeting her college application deadlines took up most of her time, and before she knew it, it was Thanksgiving Break. Vivi came home from college, and suddenly their house was much more lively than usual.

Before Thanksgiving dinner, Vivi stomped into Jude’s room and shut the door behind her. “I know I haven’t visited much, but what’s going on between you and Taryn?”

Jude pulled out her headphones from her ears. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“That’s what she said too!”

“Viv, just leave it.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out, because even Oak’s annoyed at this point.”

“He is?”

“You are all idiots,” Vivi mumbled on her way out of the room, before popping back in. “Oh, by the way, I think your mac n cheese is burning.”

“Shit! Why didn’t you say that first?”

Throughout dinner, Vivi proceeded to force Jude and Taryn into conversation. The ease at which Vivi slipped back into their dynamic was uncanny after so many months away, but Jude supposed that was the way with family.

Madoc and Oriana carried the turkey to the table while Jude prepared for the grand reveal. Oak bounced in his seat in anticipation of what had becomes Jude Thanksgiving tradition. When Jude pulled back the foil to reveal her mac n cheese, it looked perfectly fine. Except for unmistakably charred edges

Taryn snorted. “It’s definitely better than last year’s.”

Jude cracked a grin. Maybe there was something to say about Thanksgiving in bringing the family together.

 ~~~

Jude spent the end of the break hanging out with Lili, Van, and Garrett. The weird energy between Lili and Van was palpable, and Jude instinctively looked for Cardan to raise her eyebrows at before realizing he wasn’t there. Cardan had texted that he was busy with family stuff on the group chat, and Jude couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding her. Logically, she knew she was being self-centered and he probably was busy, but the thought stung more than it should have.

Monday came far too quickly, and Jude rubbed her eyes as she walked to her first class, bumping into the last person she expected to see: Locke. For the past few weeks, she’d been messing with him, but not too obviously that he would suspect she knew about what he did. Her revenge plan was still brewing, but until then, she could have some fun.

She and Lili made a game out of replying to his texts with the weirdest responses, just to see how much he could take. Her favorite was when she had ‘accidentally’ sent him a picture of two tampon boxes, asking which one she should get. When he had responded with a ‘whichever one fits??’ Jude had exploded with laughter before clarifying that it wasn’t meant for him, except that it definitely was.

When she’d asked him if he wanted to come to dinner to meet her sister and her parents, with an emphasis on her dad, he had avoided her for the next two weeks.

Which made it even harder to control her laugh when his face paled when he saw her. “Sorry, I’d better get going. I’m going to be late.”

“Right. Let me know if you can make it to dinner. My dad really wants to meet you.”

Locke practically tripped as he ran away from her.

“Damn, Duarte, what did you say to scare him?” Cardan’s familiar voice drawled out from behind her, and a grin escaped her lips, a small part of her relieved that he sought her out. She hadn’t realized how ingrained he was into her routine until she hadn’t seen him for a week.

His pace matched with hers until they were walking side by side, falling into their familiar groove.

“Just mentioned how much my dad wanted to meet him for dinner.”

Cardan grinned and handed her a cup full of coffee.

“What’s this for?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s black. I don’t know why you would willingly drink that, but you do you.”

“Yes, okay, but why’d you get me coffee?”

“Consider it me paying you back for accidentally spilling your coffee that one time.”

“Accidentally, my ass.” She frowned at her cup. “It’s not poisoned is it?”

“Fine. If you don’t want it, I’ll find some other psychopath who likes black coffee.”

Jude hugged her coffee protectively to her chest. “No. Mine.”

“I figured. Also, we need to finish our project. It’s due…“

“Next week, I know,” Jude cut off. “We still haven’t bought a poster.”

Cardan groaned. “We should have gotten one from Dollar Tree.”

“Well maybe you could’ve gotten that instead of a tiara,” she said, grinning up at him as they stopped in front of her class.

Cardan rolled his eyes. “So are you free Thursday night?”

“Yeah. Text me when later.”

“Good. We’ll talk then,” he said, with an extra emphasis on the word talk. His eyes dropped shamelessly to her lips, long enough that it was anything but unintentional, before he smirked and strode away.

Jude called after him, unwilling to let him get the last word. “About the project!”

“Of course. What did you think I was talking about?” He disappeared before she could respond.

Kissing. She was thinking about kissing him. Ugh.

She grumbled angrily to herself as she placed her bag next to her desk. When she caught Taryn staring at her, she snapped, “What?”

Taryn opened her mouth to speak, but the bell interrupted her. “Nothing.”

 ~~~

After soccer practice on Thursday, Jude went home to take a shower. While blow drying her hair she texted Cardan to figure out when they were meeting up. He immediately responded with ‘can’t do my place,” and Jude frowned. After a couple messages, they ended up deciding to go to the library at Cardan’s suggestion.

Oak was throwing a fit over something or another as she headed out the door, and Oriana paused their argument to place a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Heading out?” It wasn’t in an overbearing tone, just gentle.

“Yeah. To the library.” Jude hesitated, battling the urge to say something more. Oriana might not have been her real mother, but Jude realized what a blessing it was to have someone that checked up on her and cared the way Oriana did. She swallowed and said, “I’ll be back soon,” and headed out.

By the time she got to the library, Cardan had already texted that he was there. Seconds after she turned off her car, a knock sounded on her window, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Cardan grinned sheepishly when she opened her door. “Sorry.”

She shrugged it off and handed him the poster she from the passenger seat. She glanced around the parking lot for his car. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked.” At the shock on her face, Cardan added, “Don’t look at me like that. Just because we live in a suburb doesn’t mean I have to drive everywhere. Plus, it’s only a fifteen minute walk.”

“Okay, but… car. Fast. Walk. Slow.”

Cardan rolled his eyes and tugged her wrist impatiently. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

They walked through the archway that opened up into the entry area of the library, ‘welcome’ inscribed into the stone. The wall behind the front desk was patterned with hexagons of different pastel colors, and the librarian behind the desk gave them a friendly smile. Her dark brown hair was tied up into a ponytail, strands of gray beginning to appear.

“Cardan, nice to see you. I see you’ve brought a friend,” she said to Cardan. Her honey-colored eyes glanced at Jude with curiosity.

“Um, yeah. Mel, this is Jude. We’re doing a project together.”

Jude introduced herself, trying to hide her own curiosity.

Mel smiled at Jude warmly. “It’s nice to meet one of Cardan’s friends.” Turning to Cardan, she added, “The back room is empty, if you two want to head there.”

Cardan thanked her and gestured Jude to follow him. They passed the kid’s section, which was littered with bright signs and seating, and when they were out of hearing distance, Jude asked. “So… you come here a lot?”

“Um, I guess. I came a lot when I was a kid, so sometimes I stop by.” The tips of his ears turned pink, and damn, Jude felt something squeeze in her chest at the sight.

“Cool.”

His head jerked up at her response, and whatever he saw in her expression had him reaching for her hand and twining their fingers together. He tugged her hand, and she followed him through the stacks, the only sound their footsteps and the comforting hum of the library.

She grinned at the floor. This boy never ceased to surprise her.

They stopped in front of a room divided from the rest of the library by a wall of glass, and Cardan pushed open the door. The opposite end of the room was also completely glass, and the window looked out over the lake behind the library. A table with four chairs was on the left, and a cozy armchair sat on the right.

Cardan let go of her hand, and she ached to pull it back to hers, feel the warm callouses of his palm against hers. Instead she put the poster on the table and pulled out her laptop. “This is nice. I’m surprised no one else took it.”

“Mel saves it for me sometimes.”

Jude snorted. “You really do charm everyone, don’t you?”

Cardan sat down across her, humming in agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I charm you too.”

“Keep waiting.”

Cardan kicked her leg under the table, and she bit back a smile. If his leg stayed there, pressed against the side of hers while they worked, neither of them mentioned it.

 ~~~

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” Jude said, as she looked down at their poster. Yes, it did feel like a fifth grade science fair project, but Jude was still proud of it. Something about cutting and gluing things together made it seem so much more satisfying.

“Not bad? This is fucking gorgeous.” Cardan pushed his curls off his forehead, his silver rings catching the light. Jude’s brain automatically snagged on how unfair it was that guys could have such attractive hands. Like how did that even make sense?

Her gaze caught on them now, eyes tracing the veins and the flex of his fingers where they tapped against the edge of the table. She’d noticed that Cardan always seemed to fidget with his hands, unable to keep them unoccupied.

“Jude?”

“Hm?” She pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus. “Yes, gorgeous,” she agreed.

He gave her a strange look, and she felt a flush creeping up her neck. She started hastily picking up the scraps of paper and tidying up the table. When she dared to meet his gaze, he looked like he was battling himself with something.

“What’s up with you and Locke?” Cardan blurted a few seconds later.

“What do you mean?”

This time, his words were a little more deliberate. “I know you’re messing with him, but does he think you’re… dating?”

“I don’t know. We only went on one date, and I pretty much scared him off when I mentioned my dad.” She shrugged, confused as to why he was bringing up Locke. “Does it matter?”

His hand stilled. “I guess not.”

Silently, the two of them worked until they had finished gluing on all the information. They cleared up the excess papers and started cleaning up.

“So when are you going to break it off with him?”

“Well, I was planning to do a whole revenge prank thing, but I haven’t fully planned it out yet,” she said contemplatively, scraping off the dried glue from her fingers.

When she looked up, Cardan was looking at her with a devious smile. “What?”

“I have an idea.”

 ~~~

The sky was dark when they arrived at the grocery store. As they placed their items on the counter to check out, the cashier gave them a strange look. Jude simply smiled and said, “Isn’t it such a wonderful night?”

At Cardan’s direction, Jude drove to a neighborhood a few minutes from Cardan’s, and they parked in a darkened spot on the side of the street.

Jude’s nerves thrummed in anticipation. She hadn’t been this excited in so long, probably since the last time she had pranked Cardan. She had to admit that scheming with someone made it all the more fun.

Cardan pulled on a black sweatshirt, and his eyes met hers as he pulled up the hood to cover his curls. The wicked grin he sent her made her stomach squeeze.

“You take the right, and I’ll cover the left?”

She nodded, and silently opened the door and stepped out as Cardan did the same.

They crouched on the sidewalk next to some trees and silently made their way towards the lone house at the end of the street. Thankfully, Locke’s car was parked out front. They hadn’t exactly planned for it if his car had been in the garage.

A car door slammed across the street and Jude looked at Cardan. “Where-”

He clapped his hand over her mouth before she could finish, and he pointed across the street. A car was reversing out of the house next to Locke’s, its headlights nearly passing over them. Her heart beat furiously against her chest.

The car drove away, and Cardan suddenly dropped his hand from her mouth. Her lips burned from the ghost of his hand, and her heart sped up for a completely different reason.

“That was close,” she whispered breathlessly, and Cardan nodded, his eyes darting away from hers.

They crept up his driveway, and Cardan passed her three rolls of plastic wrap from his backpack. Slowly, Jude unfurled the plastic wrap, and pushed it over the top of his car until Cardan caught it. He wrapped it over his side before rolling it under the car back to Jude. She hadn’t realized how painstaking the process would be, but they kept at it. The sound of the unfurling wrap seemed too loud against the silent night.

Twenty long minutes later, Jude passed the last of the last of the final roll of wrap to Cardan. She waited for Cardan to secure it into place, shifting impatiently on the balls of her feet.

A gentle whirring sound cut through the night, and Jude’s eyes flew to Cardan, who was tip-toeing back towards her from around the car.

“Run,” he whispered urgently.

She grabbed Cardan’s backpack from the ground right as a spray of water hit her arm, drenching her and the side of the car. She glanced behind her and almost laughed, realizing the sprinklers had turned on, not some sort of security device like she had thought in her panic.  

Cardan looked at her, his eyes glinting with laughter. “Come on, let’s go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her.

They ran across the sidewalk like criminals fleeing from a crime scene, narrowly avoiding the sprinklers, and Jude felt giggles breaking out of her chest. Her heart pounded against her chest, her breath coming out in pants. The cold water pressed into the skin of her arm, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Cardan’s hand in hers.

They ran all the way back to her car, and they finally stopped to catch their breath. Jude leaned back into the car, panting, her hands braced on her chest to hold her heart in.

Her eyes met Cardan’s, who was panting as if he had just been in a police chase, and a giggle escaped her mouth. And then another. And then both of them were laughing like maniacs.

“Who the fuck-” she laughed, “turns on their sprinklers-” another fit of giggles overtook her. “-at midnight?”

Cardan laughed harder, leaning into her, a palm bracing himself on the car behind her. “Your face,” he wheezed, “when the sprinklers turned on-”

She could barely breathe in. “The way you said run, oh my god.” She broke into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach. Cardan wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.

Eventually, Jude’s laughter slowed. The sound of crickets chirping and cars whizzing by on the street behind the neighborhood settled into the air as they caught their breaths. Jude leaned back against the car, tipping her head back up to the night sky.

Cardan was still leaning into her, the moonlight casting a faint glow over his face. When she met his eyes, his lips tipped up in a little smile that sent warmth to her stomach.

With a will of its own, her hand reached up to push back his hoodie, cradling his jaw, and he swallowed, his expression sobering.

A breeze blew over them, lifted a strand of her hair from her face. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest, a different type of adrenaline shooting through her body as his eyes darted to her lips.

In an unspoken agreement, Jude leaned up, and Cardan’s head bent down to reach hers.

Their lips brushed hesitantly, a barely-there kiss, before Cardan pulled back slightly.

Oh. Oh.

“Jude.” His voice was hoarse, a question, a plea exhaled across her lips, and she silenced it with her mouth.

Their resolve snapped, and Cardan’s hand slipped to cradle the back of her head as his head dipped and his lips pressed into hers, again and again and again, warm and soft and desperate. Jude buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, until she was pressed against the car, his forearms caging her in.

She had never been kissed like this.

It felt as though they were running past the sprinklers again, a rush of adrenaline running through her body. Her lips parted under his, and he made a noise in the back of his throat that set her blood on fire. Her thoughts fizzled into nothing, everything except the two of them fading away.

When they pulled back for air, Cardan’s lips were swollen, and both of them were panting. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand still tangled in her hair, and Jude‘s eyes finally fluttered open.

“That,” Cardan rasped, “was worth waiting for.”

“Shut up.” Her voice was a little too breathless for her liking.

“Jude, Jude, Jude,” he murmured as he nuzzled the side of her face, and she felt goosebumps erupt on her arm. “Now you know exactly how to make me shut up.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, barely close enough for another kiss, before shoving him back, hoping distance would help her regain her composure. “You wish. There are other ways to shut you up.”

He stumbled back with a breathless laugh. “I do wish.” He glanced around at the street, as if just remembering where they were. “We should probably go.”

“We should. Wouldn’t want to get caught.”

“Okay, right.” His hands spazzed at his side for a moment before he spurred into motion, opening her door for her with a roguish grin.

Jude didn’t exactly know what she was getting herself into, but she couldn’t bring herself to put an end to it.

~~~

A/N:  And there you have it, the scene that inspired this whole thing. It’s the first scene I even wrote, and everything else was just fun to write to lead up to it. I was about to cut this chapter off before the last scene, but I decided to keep it in because it takes me forever to update. Like I said at the beginning, you’re welcome 😌  I hope it’s as good as it was in my head 😭

Okay, but the fact that this is the tenth chapter and people are still reading?!! Thank you all so much for reading this and supporting this!! I probably would have abandoned this if not for you <3

As usual, let me know what you think in the comments!! Reblogs are appreciated :)

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[defstolemyheart]

hasty - hwang hyunjin (m)

tags: smut, explicit sexual scenes/descriptions, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) note: crossposted from instagram on February 9. I actually have a song included for the title slide on instagram, but I can’t put videos up here I guess :< this is my first smut here dhsjdhasj idk how to feel about that ahahha oh and I recommend listening to Too Fast by Sonder while reading! word count: 2.7k Tonight he wanted to savor you. Slowly.

--

Impatience.

That was his brand. 

Most people around him knew well how Hyunjin prefers to have things done without delay - be it studying, assignments or work. He would always try to be two steps ahead, even better if he could wrap them up long before the due time was up. 

He always got his notes and readings done even before anyone else started and finished his papers at least a week before the deadline, allowing himself time to review them as he saw fit. He would never fail to check the stocks for the cafe every shift, making calculations that proved to be useful to expect what they might or might not need.

Hyunjin found comfort in his system. Found peace within his rushings.

If he let things sit for too long… he would lose his mind.

There was a reason he rarely visited the campus coffee shop. Not only because of their weak excuse of double shot iced americano, the bumbling barista was far too slow for his own good. Hyunjin would always end up tapping his shoes in contempt for a cup of coffee that was far too weak for his system, dampening his mood and driving his patience to run thinner for the rest of the day.

Even his friends were not spared of any bit of patience, no matter how close or long they have been with him. Hyunjin could not count the many instances where he would go inside the movie theater right on the five minutes dot before the movie began, not caring if Jisung or Felix would come running with an apology drawn in smiles, because he was far too anxious to be late for himself than having to care if his friends would be mad at him for leaving them behind (they never got mad, which Hyunjin was thankful for).

And his night life was like that too.

Friday night outings with his best friends meant putting on clothes that left nothing for others imaginations and heading to poorly lit clubs to chase highs with people seeking cheap thrills and momentary bliss. It meant exchanging hungry gazes to people who looked interested enough to touch with intent, who was willing to be pressed against the wall, or brought to an empty toilet stall for heated kisses and searing touches that never lingered. 

That was sex for Hyunjin. Not too short to be unpleasurable, yet never too long to leave attachments. Just enough. Any longer than necessary and his skin would prickle; uncomfortable and disgusted.

Until he met you.

Eyes meeting yours under the scattering crimson light at Minho’s frat house party one Saturday night, he could not miss how you were practically undressing him with just your gaze. 

Impatient.

Highly impatient.

It was intriguing, deeply amusing, meeting you.

Someone who kissed without wasting a breath, always so pliant and eager from the very first touch. 

Someone who made a quick work for him, tugging on his hand to touch your already soaking slit under the skin tight black sequin mini dress that made your skin glow so beautifully, even under the dim lights of the frat house bathroom.

Someone who was not shy to ask him to do it faster, harder, to have him leave litters of bruises on the soft expanse of their skin as their hips met his thrusts, and coyly walked away from him once you were both spent.

As if nothing happened.

Names were not exchanged, and he never found it to be necessary before. Because before that, once was always enough.

Yet Hyunjin spent the rest of that night wishing he had taken more time with you, and it was a jarring thought for him. Then he spent his Sunday trying to remember the taste of your lips and the tight slickness of your core- he wished the day would pass faster, wished to find you again as soon as he could.

Come Monday, by the grace of the universe, his wish came true. It arrived in the form of you striding across the quad, a soft smile on your lips yet the hunger in your eyes was not amiss by him.

You didn’t say a word as you pulled him to the library, leading him to the emergency staircase in the back of the building that nobody ever visited. He smiled as you pushed him to sit on the steps as you straddled his laps and captured his lips between yours like you have been starved for months.

With each quick flick of your wrist as you stroke his length, and rapid sinking of your heat around him, Hyunjin felt fire running under his skin.

It was as if he had found his match.

Someone whose patience ran much thinner than him- an absolute rarity. 

And with each quick and searing encounters between you and him after that, he found himself hooked to you, unable and unwilling to let go. 

With both of you preferring to move with the same speed, it was comforting for the both of you to stay together. No time was ever wasted, no touch ever more than necessary.

It was perfect.

Yet the longer he stayed with you, he found something in him changing- a thought growing..

He wondered if he could push your buttons, as slow as he possibly could.

The thought was fleeting at first, but it stayed, and festered, and surprised him.

Because he never desired slowness, never one to waste time, yet... the thought of having you under him, screaming, panting or crying simply because he was taking too much of his sweet time? It made his blood rush with excitement.

He let the thought simmer in the back of his mind. Letting his brain work its storms of ideas, even as he catered to your wishes of fleeting pleasures- of quick pumps of his fingers or hard, unrelenting thrusts of his hips.

He smiled as he planted chaste kisses on your skin after another quick fuck session, thinking of the right moment for the grand scheme in his mind. 

For the first time in his life, he found himself patiently waiting for the perfect chance.

--

No longer finding the need to fuck random strangers every other weekend, Hyunjin’s Friday nights were now reserved for movie nights with you in his apartment. It was for snuggling close to each other with a large bowl of microwave popcorn on your lap and a cold can of sparkling juice in his hand, with the both of you choosing movies without a second thought.

You called it movie nights, but most times the popcorn would be left to stale on the coffee table and whatever movie was up on the screen ignored as you ride him hard on the couch, or have him fuck you to screaming from behind. Then after all the highs, you would turn sleepy, and clingy, and rush him to carry him over to his bed where you would lay fast asleep.

Hyunjin watched the screen mindlessly, not really paying attention to the storyline because you were in his mind. He tried his best to suppress the smirk about to grow on his lips as he sensed you shifting restlessly next to him.

It always started that way: you shifting around the couch, then suddenly straddling his lap and pulled his lips between yours and begging for him to fuck you already, and he would always welcome it.

Not tonight. He rolled his lips under his teeth, feeling an amused laugh bubbling yet contained his chest.

As expected, you moved; caging his hips with your legs, one hand firm on his shoulder, another clutching on his sweater clad arm. He ran his gaze quickly on your figure; from your messy hair, to your lust clouded eyes, wet parted lips, to the skin peeking from the collar of his way-to-big of a hoodie on you, down to the hem of it, resting on your thighs. He was pretty sure you had nothing underneath. You never did.

The epitome of lust, wrapped as an adorable figure drowning in his clothes.

Abso-fucking-lutely alluring.

Hyunjin tugged the hand you have on his arm gently, bringing it close to his lips. He placed tender kisses on each of its knuckles, and caught the way your skin shivered with each touch. He continued on, planting barely there touches with his lips all over the back of your hand, feeling your eyes widening at his ministrations.

“What are you doing?” you asked, breath catching in your throat.

Hyunjin hummed, pressing his lips on your slowly heated skin one more time before looking up to meet your confused eyes. “Nothing.”

Your brows knitted together, definitely unconvinced of his words. “Weird.”

He just smiled, letting your hand go to snake his own behind your neck, pulling you down for a kiss. It was open-mouthed, wet, and searing, as it had always been. Hyunjin could hear your breath hitching with each licks of his tongue on your soft palate, with the caress of his fingers on your nape, encouraging you to deepen the kiss.

You slid down, chest heaving and rubbing against his. Even through both of your clothes, he could feel your nipples hardening, perhaps anticipating for him to twist them the way he usually would. It pulled a chuckle from Hyunjin, whose other hand now toyed with the hem of your hoodie, feeling the skin of your thigh tensing from the touch.

Your hips rutted against his crotch, seeking to alleviate the growing pressure and Hyunjin very nearly gave in to your ministrations, close to pulling his cock out of his sweatpants and fuck you right there and then, but no-

Not tonight.

Just as he guessed, you weren’t wearing underneath the hoodie. His hot palm slid on the skin of your side easily, bunching the hoodie up slightly and made you shiver as the slightly chilly air of the room hit you. He snaked his arm around your naked waist, though his lips did not leave yours, teeth nipping on them just the way you like it. 

You pulled away for a short take of breath and Hyunjin used the chance to flip your back onto the sofa, making you squeal in surprise before he leaned back in to capture your lips, this time in a slow, languid kiss, and he could taste the shock of it on your tongue.

Because he never kissed you like this.

You kissed him back, though urging him to quicken his pace but Hyunjin did not relent. He kept nibbling gently, licking softly, and whimpers began to fall from your lips. It made Hyunjin’s skin prickle, but not in discomfort.

It made him want more.

He left your lips, making you whine and he knew then that your patience had begun to run thin. Apparent from the glaze of lust on your eyes, from the twitching of your thighs and the writhing of your hips.

“Hyunjin-” you panted, fingers clutching on the hem of his hoodie. “Fuck me-”

Hyunjin shook his head, earning him more of your whines. He dipped down, lips ghosting over your ear. “Not now.”

“Please, Hyunjin-” you took one of his hands and let it brush over your slit- soaked and a mess, wanting nothing more than his cock filling you in quickly. “I need you.”

He chewed on his lip, bruising even more than it already was. “I know, but will you let me do something first?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the sound so clear to his ears. “What?”

“Let me take my time.” he pressed his lips softly on your cheek, feeling the slight dampness that rolled from your eyes in frustrations. “Please.”

He expected you to say no. Knowing you, he actually held no expectation that you would allow more time than necessary for this sort of intimacy. But then he felt your head moving, nodding, and that was it for him.

His lips made trails of wet kisses from your ears to your collarbone, sucking lightly on the sensitive patch of skin you have near your sternum. He shifted, sliding down further down your figure. His hands pressed on your legs, urging you to allow him space between your thighs.

Goosebumps formed across your skin as his lips found it once more, kissing the inner side of your left thigh and he slowly made his way back up, leaving barely there marks as he moved slowly. 

You writhed as he closed in to your heat, and nearly screamed as he ignored it, moving further up to kiss around your waist. Your fingers tried to find purchase on something, anything, to relieve the tension, and they ended up on your own breasts, cupping and kneading them roughly over the hoodie.

Hyunjin heard your stifled moans and struggled to keep his own in his throat as he saw you pulling on your hardened buds over his hoodie, frustration clear on your twisted expression. His sweatpants felt taut and constricting, and once more, he fought over his desires to bend you over and mindlessly fuck you. 

Tonight he wanted to savor you. Slowly.

He slid his hand between the hoodie and your skin, making you gasp and have your hands pulling away from your breast to cover your mouth because his touch felt like seething fire on your already heated skin. Hyunjin lifted the cloth just enough to reveal your chest, hungry eyes marvelling the softness of your skin.

Hyunjin dipped down, curious tongue finding your nipple. He relished the slight taste of salt on the skin, teeth pulling on the bud and drawing the most desperate sound from your chest- one he had never heard before.

Fuck.

Desire thrummed in his veins, prickling harder on his skin. His other hand trailed down between your legs, finding the slick opening of your core, twitching and begging so pitifully to be filled.

Hyunjin slipped a finger in so painfully slowly, his lids fluttering close as he tried to concentrate on feeling your velvety heat around him. Your legs fell open further besides him as he slid in a second digit, dragging in and out of you in a lengthy, excruciating pace that he knew was not enough for you. He captured your nipple with his lips again, giving it a thorough suck just as he crooked his finger on the soft spot behind your clit, causing you to scream, back arching so prettily off the couch.

More of those delicious desperate sounds escaped your lips as he pulled his fingers out, and Hyunjin could feel his own arousal screaming underneath his skin, coiling tight in his stomach. 

You choked out a sob when he left your skin and suddenly licked a thick stripe starting from your swollen, throbbing clit, down to your aching entrance. He didn’t stop, tongue continuously flicking over the sensitized bud and occasionally dipping into your core, teasing you further, making your thighs shake from the tension. His fingers found comfort back in your slick heat, scissoring you open tenuously as his tongue delved alongside them. 

Begs spilled from your throat, sounding raw with tears, and he could feel it- the neediness growing incessantly in your nerves, so apparent by the way your velvet walls twitch violently around his fingers. He pressed deeper, dragged slower and more of your cries filled the room.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly. Hearing how you would be under prolonged, lingering pleasure, he regretted not thinking of this sooner.

His plush lips pressed on your clit, suckling on it sweetly as he continued pumping in and out of you leisurely. His actions drew out more of your moans, slowly turning into muffled grunts as you bite onto the sleeves of his hoodie just to hold on to the last remnant of sanity.

Hyunjin was not sure if he could ever go back to quick fucks and fast highs with you now. Not when seeing you under him like this made him feel so good, so damned accomplished.

“Hyunjin-” he smiled at the desperation in your voice. “Please? Fuck me?”

He took his time pulling his digits out of your drenched cunt, enthralled by the sound of your whine, He brought his fingers to his mouth and savored your sweet taste again before coming on top of you, arms caging your head. He could see himself reflected in your glossy, despairing eyes, and it made his heart swoon and his skin prickle again, lustful.

“Don’t be too hasty baby.” he kissed you softly, breath ghosting over your trembling lips. 

“We’re just getting started.”