#she had sent a 'checking in' email about a week before the winter break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roger-that-cap · 4 years

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brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk.

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded.

Wands,

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”.

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her.

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic.

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this.

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told.

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation.

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters.

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together.

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting.

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different.

You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything.

Sunshine,

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright.

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school?

I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think?

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did.

You loved her. You really did.

§§§

It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head.

You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.

So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her.

You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was.

You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.

You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all?

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that.

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl.

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home?

Moonlight,

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade.

I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.

Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two.

I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way.

If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset.

It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight.

Your Sunshine, Wanda.

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about.

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any.

She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper.

Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have.

Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it.

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that.

Sunshine,

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier.

§§§

By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink.

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around.

The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient.

And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss.

The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage.

Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too.

The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers.

You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known.

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came.

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth.

Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well.

You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it.

You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all.

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda.

A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression.

Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you.

Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

“O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment.

“You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

“I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.”

The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.”

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it.

But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed.

You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?”

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.”

“Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?”

You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know.

You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.”

She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway.

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready.

You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it.

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her.

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?”

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.”

“More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought.

You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently.

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.”

You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close.

Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too.

You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life.

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

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nctyhoney · 4 years

Text

a helping hand (m)

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink

Playlist: pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.

Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.

—————————————————————————

It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.

In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.

The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.

"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.

"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.

"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.

"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."

Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.

"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"

"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.

You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"

"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."

Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.

"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.

"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."

You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.

"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.

Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.

"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.

"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.

"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."

He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.

"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.

"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.

"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.

He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."

You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.

"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.

♡

It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.

In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.

You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.

You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.

Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.

You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.

He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though.

"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.

He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.

"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.

"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.

Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.

"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.

Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.

Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.

You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.

You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.

"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.

"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.

"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.

"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.

"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."

You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.

"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."

"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"

Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?

"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.

"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.

"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.

"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."

"Girl, you're such a bad liar."

♡

Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.

Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.

Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.

Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh.

You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.

“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.

“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.

“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.

The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.

“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.

Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.

“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.

Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.

“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark.

Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully.

“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.

Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.

“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”

It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”

Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.

“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.

The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.

“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.

There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.

“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.

You laugh then, typical Johnny.

There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.

“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.

It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.

“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”

“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.

“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.

Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two.

“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.

“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”

Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.

“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.

You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.

“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.

You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.

“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.

It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.

Yerin is smirking, expectant.

“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.

“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.

“You said you wanted the truth.”

Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.

“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.

“Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”

"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."

"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.

It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street.

"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.

"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says.

Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.

"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.

"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.

"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.

You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.

"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.

Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."

"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."

Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"

"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.

"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.

"I guess you're right."

"So where are we going?"

"McDonald's?" you ask.

"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.

You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"

He shrugs, "Why not?"

His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street.

"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."

Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.

"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.

You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"

Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.

♡

Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.

"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.

You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."

He smiles in response but doesn't move.

"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.

He sits down gingerly then.

"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.

You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.

When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.

"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.

You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.

"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"

It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong with what we're doing."

That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.

"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.

He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.

"God that feels so good - keep doing that," you breathe.

He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.

Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.

"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.

"Shit, no."

You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.

"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.

"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.

You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.

You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.

You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.

You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.

"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.

"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.

Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.

You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.

You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."

He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.

"I'm so...close, fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.

He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.

"Shit," Mark hisses.

"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.

You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.

"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.

"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.

"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.

"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."

"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.

"Mm?"

"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.

Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.

"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.

He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.

He smiles and you know he's blushing.

"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.

"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.

Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.

♡

Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.

"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.

"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.

"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.

"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.

"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.

You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.

Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.

And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.

♡

It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.

You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.

"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.

You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.

“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling.

“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously.

“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously.

You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were.

Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.

You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"

You laugh then, "Do they?"

Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"

"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."

"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.

"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"

"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.

You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."

Mark relaxes a little then.

"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"

"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.

Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.

"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.

"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.

"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.

He always has a roundabout way of saying things.

♡

It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.

"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.

He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.

"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.

Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.

"No, I like it."

You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.

You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.

"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.

You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.

As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.

You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.

"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.

"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.

"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."

"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.

You raise an eyebrow then.

"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.

Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."

"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.

I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night

“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.

“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.

“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says.

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark.

You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming.

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.

The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.

"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."

"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.

"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."

You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.

There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.

Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.

Mark hovers over you.

"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.

You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"

You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.

Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.

Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.

He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.

"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.

You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.

Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.

"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.

"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.

"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.

"Please, please fuck me, Mark."

You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.

Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.

He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.

"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.

Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.

"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.

Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.

"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.

"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?

Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.

"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.

“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.

Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”

Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.

Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.

"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.

"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.

“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game.

“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.

He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.

“My god, Mark” is all you can manage.

Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.

It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.

"Mark, I'm - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.

"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.

It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.

"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.

"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.

"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.

"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.

"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.

"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.

"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.

He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.

Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.

As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.

Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."

"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.

Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.

His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next.

"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.

"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.

Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.

"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.

Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.

"Mmm?"

"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."

He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"

"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."

"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.

"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.

"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.

As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.

"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.

"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."

Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."

"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.

"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.

You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly.

Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?"

"It sounds lovely," you smile.

You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.

577 notes · View notes

agentnushie · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1~ a stucky fanfiction (name tbd)

Meet Cute

Fic pairings- Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes.

Chapter pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: Nothing major. This is basically just an introduction to how the reader is introduced to Bucky. Some mentions of reader being anxious, mentions of masturbation at a young age (15, and it's like two lines). I think that's about it. Let me know if I missed something <33.

Special Appearance: Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 2,046.

The blender whirred breaking your daydream. Without your caffeine fix for the day you were still groggy and disoriented. Running your fingers up and down the zipper of your jacket, you wondered how much longer it was going to take for the barista to call your name so you could get out of here and go home to start your Saturday in peace. You had already started to make a to-do list in your head-

1. Clean countertops.

2. Listen to lecture recordings for class.

3. Buy new kitchen towels.

4. Buy-

"A small peppermint latte for Y/N", the barista called. Clutching the cash in your hand you made your way to the counter.

"Thank you, come again."

And with that, you were out of the door. Your apartment was just across the street and so you quickly rushed inside with your favorite winter drink.

No mail. That's fine, you never really received any mail, but your mom was supposed to send you the books you had wanted. Maybe it was just getting stalled at the post office. You made another mental note-

5. Stop by the post office to check on the parcel.

Once inside, you quickly took off your jacket and hung it up by the door. Thank god, Mrs. Arther had told you to turn on your heat before the morning coffee run, so you returned to a toasty warm apartment. You were still in your pajamas from last night, sweatpants and a tank top so curling up on the sofa and pulling the blanket over your feet, you opened your mail, looking through and replying to your friends and family. Your childhood best friend Rita was miserable with her job and was bitching to you about how her boss had wanted her to sort through all his Christmas party invitations and RSVP to each and every one of them only to jet off to Mykonos at the last minute, leaving her to cancel each and every one of them. Your dad had bought a new camera and wanted to know how to zoom in. Your mom had seen a blouse yesterday which she thought you would absolutely lllooovveee (cue attachment). She had also apparently sent you the books you had wanted a week ago, so did you receive them? There were a couple of promotional emails here and there, a few Christmas party invites, and one from LinkedIn. You had signed up a couple of months ago because your internship at the last publishing house was getting too time-consuming and you needed a change of pace.

S.H.I.E.L.D Publishing House is interested in your profile and attached to it was an email asking you to come in tomorrow for an interview. Although no particular job description was mentioned, you were extremely excited. S.H.I.E.L.D Publishing was the biggest publishing house in New York City and where you had wanted to work since you had decided you wanted to study literature at 13 years old. Being in your last year of university, this was probably the best thing that had happened to you all year. You quickly typed a reply accepting the interview and with the 'woosh' of the computer, unknown to you, sealed your fate.

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Standing in front of the huge thirty-storeyed building, you felt like you could throw up. This interview would either make your entire life or break it. You were debating whether you should run away and fake your own death, when your phone rang, pulling the brakes on your plan.

"Hi Ri, I'm just about to go in."

"Girl, you are going to be amazing and you are going to get this internship! I believe in you!" Your bestie's cheery voice put a smile on your face. Since you guys were eight, she had always been like this. She could always anticipate when you needed to talk to her.

"You are not thinking about going off the grid again, are you. Because if you get murdered in all your bullshit shenanigans, I am going to hunt your ass down and kill you for not calling me when you needed to talk to someone." Ri threatened.

"No, Ri. I am not going to run away without you, you know that."

"Damn right you won't, who else is going to bear with me for the rest of my life."

"Alright, I gotta go try not to puke my guts all over the floor. Bye bub."

"Bye baby. And remember head high, tits out. Your gonna kill it!"

And with those words of encouragement, you pushed through the revolving glass doors trying not to stumble and fall flat on your face.

"Hello, I have a meeting with Mr. James Barnes today."

The receptionist smiled and handed you a clipboard with various documents.

"Of course, just fill these out and I'll call you in a moment."

You had handed back the forms and were waiting patiently, when Hilda, the receptionist, called you to go up to the 28th floor and showed you to the elevators.

Small dings sounded your ascend to probably the most important moment in your life, other than being accepted to your dream college and receiving a barbie dreamhouse for your fifth birthday. It was on the 17th floor that the elevator first stopped since you had got on. The doors opened to reveal a heart-faced redhead, clutching her bag tightly and shuffling inside with 'tension' written all over her. She looked as though one wrong move and her skin would rip right off.

"Hi," you said, softly.

She looked up and gave you a shy smile.

"Hi."

"I am Y/N."

"I am Wanda."

"So, do you work here, Wanda ?"

"First day. I am kinda nervous," she said tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Do you work here too?"

"Well, hoping to. I have an interview with Mr. Barnes in about six more floors you say, pointing to the LED numbers above the steel doors."

"Well, I am in HR. All the best. I hope you get the job," she said giving you a thumbs-up. "Then I can call you my first friend from work."

"Thanks. Looking forward to being your first friend from work."

Wanda got off on the 25th floor and the click-clack of her black heels faded away, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

It's just three more floors. You can do it. No turning back now.

As you were finishing your mini pep-talk, the elevators doors opened once again signaling your arrival at your destination. You stepped out and ran a nervous hand over your silk blouse and buttoned your blazer, smoothening away imaginary wrinkles from your pants (your outfit or you can imagine something else if you don't like this :D), you made your way to the receptionist sitting on that floor.

"Hello, I am Y/N Y/L/N. I have an interview with Mr.James Banes today."

"Just a moment ma'am," the young boy picks up the phone and notifies the man who is about to change your life about your presence.

Putting the phone down, he says, "Go right in."

You smile, muttering a thank you.

You raise your hand and knock on the door gingerly.

A deep voice from the other side of the door ushers you in.

You force your arms to push open the door and step into Mr. Barnes' office.

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You know how in movies when a very important scene is being played out, everything happens in slow motion, yeah this was the exact opposite of that. One minute you were looking at a dark-haired man sitting behind a desk, with the New York skyline visible behind him through the glass wall, speaking of the immense power he held, and the next, you were holding his large, warm hand in yours as he shook it welcoming you in. His touch sent electric sparks through your body. You felt absolutely mortified to be acting like such a teenager. You hadn't felt like this since you were about 15 and you had read your first smutty book, Blue Velvet. You had spent the night rubbing yourself through your cotton panties, muffling your sounds in your pillow imagining being ravished. The man looked like pure sex and power. Although he had a strong persona, he appeared friendly enough. Maybe he wouldn't indulge in a heartfelt chat about your favorite rom-coms but he would smile at you if your eyes met across a room at a party. You held your bag carefully and confidently walked to the seat in front of his desk. You were an absolute mess inside ut on the outside you maintained your poker face with only one thought running through your mind- I am going to get this internship.

Bucky had heard a soft knock on his door and called out a 'come in.' You had walked in demurely, but confident as if you were ready to take on whatever he was going to throw your way. You had shaken his hand and made your way to the chair and as you sat in front of him, a soft smile gracing your features, he couldn't help but be impressed. You seemed like a focussed woman, who had achieved quite a bit for being only 23. He wanted to dig beneath the surface and see what was underneath your picture-perfect record.

Bucky was the first to speak.

"So, Y/N. You have quite an impressive resume for someone your age. You are in your last year of your master's at NYU, you were working for Maddison and Third Publishing House as an intern in Marketing and Advertisement, and your previous boss has described you as a driven woman who gets the job done.' Why did you want to study literature?"

"Well, Mr.Barnes, I am a good communicator and I know how to get my point through when I represent myself on the page. I might not be the chattiest person in the room, but I can do a good job of helping change someone's mind if I write someone a speech."

Your answer was perfect from a corporate point of view. Clean, straight to the point with just the adequate touch of dry humor.

Bucky didn't want the perfect, corporate answer. He wanted to know what had driven you into this industry. So he prodded further.

"So, why literature? What you want could easily be achieved through journalism or even marketing."

You had never expected him to ask that question. You had rehearsed your answer to this exact question a million times in the mirror, but You had never expected a follow-up. You thought hard.

"Because since I can remember, I have been mesmerized by the way someone can change your whole life by stringing together words on a page or transport you to entire worlds that exist in their minds and I have always wanted to know what it feels like to be on the other side of it. To be the one creating the worlds and changing lives and making something that people can find comfort in. That is why I study literature."

As you were speaking, your face lit up, your eyes were sparkling and it was as if you were falling in love. The way you spoke about literature and books, made Bucky absolutely animated. It was as if he was twelve again, reading Huckleberry Finn underneath the covers with a flashlight, wanting to experience the thrill of what happens next. That is when he knows that you are who he needs to employ.

A content smile spreads over his face and you instantly know that you have managed to secure your internship.

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A couple of questions later, you come out of the office grinning widely.

He offered you the internship! On the spot! You were going to work right underneath him and report to him directly. You were his Personal Assistant/Trainee Executive Editor. The best part was that this internship actually paid fair wages unlike the last one you had, where you had to work over ten hours a day on top of having classes just to make ends meet. Here you were to come in after classes at 12pm and leave work at 6pm.

You started Monday.

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(A/N: Hey guys. So this is literally the first fic that I am writing after a brief attempt when I was 14. I hope you guys like it and I know that I stank in some places and dragged on a bit, but I hope you guys will stick through for this series. Also, I promise some smut in the next chapter which I will be uploading in two days' time cause it's Christmas at home. Happy Holidays. Sending you sm love <333.)

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #stucky x reader #stucky x y/n #marvel #marvel mcu #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #stucky smut #marvel smut #mcu smut

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

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Branch Out - Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word count: 6219

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

A/N: I started this series a long time ago and just barely had the motivation to start it up again. I really love this series, and have been enjoying writing it. Let me know if you want a tag!

My Masterlist

Branch Out Masterlist

Thank heavens for GPS, there’s no way you would have found this place without step-by-step directions. A narrow gravel driveway branched off from the worn mountain road and wound to a homely cabin. You stepped out of your old pickup truck and pulled out the key the realtor had given to you. Buying a house sight unseen wasn’t the smartest idea and you second guessed your impulse decision as you took in the dense woods that were so foreign to you. The seasoned wooden boards of the porch creaked under your feet while you made your way to the door and let yourself into your new home. Dust rested gently on every ledge and the frigid January air was lined with a twinge of must from sitting unoccupied for so long, but something felt so promising about the sturdy structure.

A modest kitchen and living room made up most of the house with a bedroom and bathroom on either side of a small hallway. A small, metal woodburning fireplace sat just next to the backdoor and you had a feeling you would end up putting that to good use if you ever figured out how to use it.

Your hand was subconsciously touching the bruise that was prominent on your forearm and when you realized, you pulled your sleeve down to cover it. The decision to leave your family and friends behind was a heart-wrenching one, but you knew you had to make a change if you wanted to heal completely. You needed to do something for yourself, and you wanted a fresh start. A small cabin in the freezing cold woods of Idaho was about as far from what you knew to be normal as you could have gotten, but a seed of hope was planted firmly in your chest.

When a job posting for the assistant city accountant had fallen in your lap a few weeks back, you applied without thinking twice. A few online interviews later, you had secured the job and things fell into place effortlessly, as if some external force was paving your path to this small town. You bought this quaint home with the help of a local realtor, packed your things, and left the only home you had ever known in Arizona, despite the protests of your family. Not knowing what your future held was scary, but something about this place felt right from the moment you pulled in.

You had brought only what you needed to in hopes of making a quick escape, meaning you had only a mattress, some clothes and a few personal belongings. After working for a few years, you had a built up a good savings account and figured it would be easier to buy furniture once you got here instead of trying to move big pieces by yourself. It didn’t take long to move your things inside, and you felt grateful that you called ahead to have the power and water turned on so you could shower once you had unpacked what you needed for your first day on the job tomorrow. Anxiety sat like a rock in your stomach, so you skipped dinner and went straight to bed, burying yourself under a mountain of blankets to shield you from the winter chill that had settled in your bones.

Your nerves woke you up well before your alarm went off, so you dragged your feet across the frozen floor and pulled your clothes on quickly before digging through your boxes for some granola bars for breakfast. You leaned against the kitchen counter and began to make a list of things you would need to buy since you were essentially starting from scratch. Double checking the email that you had received with instructions for your first day, you took a deep breath and headed out.

City hall was a historic, two-story red brick building that was shared with the fire department. It looked like something out of a storybook, but then again, this whole town did. You pushed the door open and looked around at the empty lobby, checking your watch to make sure you weren’t crazy early. Rustic chairs lined the walls by the door, and a few empty desks were placed behind the tall front counter.

“Hello?” You asked, turning your head left and right to look for any signs of life.

“Oh!” A muffled voice responded, and distant footsteps quickly scuttled your way from the back room. “You’re here!” A pretty, dark haired girl gave a few excited claps as she made her way to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Sarah. Sarah Blake.” She eagerly pulled you into a hug which caught you by surprise and she chuckled a bit to herself before taking a step back. “Sorry, my boyfriend says that my enthusiasm scares new people away. I’ve just been so excited since I heard they hired you. I’ve been praying for someone my age to come work around here for a long time.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the first person I’ve met in town so it’s nice to see a friendly face.” Her warm welcome calmed some of your nerves.

“That’s right, you just moved in yesterday, huh?” You tiled your head in question, wondering how she knew that. “It’s a really small town, everyone knows everything, especially when it comes to new people. You’ve been the talk of the town the past little bit.” She shrugged. “Well, I’m the marketing/PR girl here, and we all just kind of pitch in with working the front desk. Come on back, let me give you the grand tour.”

Sarah led you around the corner and stopped at the first office on your left. “This is Ellen Singer’s office. You’ll be working under her, she’s the lead accountant.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Hmm, she should be here by now. I bet her car is giving her trouble.”

A friendly voice called out to Sarah from down the hall and she motioned for you to follow her as she stepped just inside the end office which was significantly bigger than the rest.

“Y/N, this is Garth Fitzgerald, he’s the mayor. Garth, this is Y/N.” Sarah introduced you and he stood to shake your hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Mayor Fitzgerald.”

“Please, call me Garth.” You smiled and nodded. “We’ve been excited about you around here. I think you’ll make a great addition to our community.” His phone ringing broke the conversation. “Excuse me, ladies. Oh, and welcome to Wallace, Y/N!”

“Next up is Arthur Ketch, he’s the city planner. Sometimes he can be a little abrupt, but deep down he’s a big softie. Don’t let him scare you.”

He was on the phone, so he simply waved to you two as you passed. Sarah’s attention was drawn back down the hall when two police officers walked in. “Jody, Donna!” She hollered to them.

“Heya, kiddo! Who you got with you?” The blonde officer sent a warm smile your way.

“You must be Y/N!” The other responded.

“Oh, that’s right! I heard you were coming to town. I’m Donna and this is Sheriff Jody Mills. It’s so great to meet you.” She pulled you in for your second hug of the day.

“Everyone here is seriously so nice. I don’t know why I didn’t move here years ago!” You joked.

“Well listen, if you need anything, you can always come to me, okay?” Jody put her hand on your shoulder. “We’re all so excited to have a new face around.”

“Thank you. You’re all making this transition so much easier than I thought it would be.”

Sarah waved to the officers as they left and pulled gently on your arm. “Come on, let’s chat while we wait for Ellen.” She took a seat at one of the desks in the front and you sat across from her.

“Thanks for showing me around, it’s nice to know that I have a friend at work already.” Sarah’s eyes lit up when you called her your friend.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been dying for you to get here. I knew we’d get along.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair proudly. “So, where did you move from?”

“Phoenix, Arizona.”

“And you moved to Idaho in the middle of January? Are you crazy? I would give anything to go lay out in the sun for an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I might be!” You laughed. “I guess I just needed a change, you know? It was just time to move onto the next chapter of my life.”

“I get that. I grew up here and couldn’t wait to leave for college, but as soon as I was gone, I missed this place.”

“I can see what you’re talking about. It has a good feeling to it here.”

“So, now to the juicy stuff.” Sarah leaned forward. “Are you dating anyone? Because there’s a whole pool of eligible bachelors I could set you up with here.”

“No, actually I just got out of something kind of messy, so I don’t think I’m really looking for anything at the moment.”

A sympathetic look was sent you way. “I’m sorry to hear that. But if you ever feel ready, you let me know, okay?”

“You will be the first. What about you? I heard you mention you have a boyfriend. Tell me all about him.”

A smile spread across Sarah’s face and she pulled out her phone to show you a picture. “This is Sam, we’ve been together since high school.”

She handed you her phone and you looked at the tall, handsome guy whose arms were wrapped around her. “He’s cute, nice work!” She beamed as you handed her phone back. The expression on her face was clearly one of adoration as she looked at the picture.

“We actually broke up before we went to college. He went to Stanford and I went to the University of Oregon and we figured it would be easier to break it off on good terms rather than fade away in a long-distance relationship. That lasted about two weeks and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Do you think you’ll marry him? You guys are so stinking cute together.” You weren’t sure if you had ever seen a better fitting couple.

“I overheard Sam talking to his older brother about buying a ring. I don’t think he knew that I was just in the other room, but I’ll let him try to surprise me.” Sarah giggled. Your conversation was interrupted by someone walking in the back door.

“Hey, Ellen.” Sarah greeted. “Your reinforcement has arrived.”

Ellen looked at you with relief in her eyes. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Come on back here and we’ll get started.”

“Have fun!” Sarah left you to meet your new boss as she went up to help someone at the front desk.

“Y/N, you’ll have to forgive me for being so late. My stupid car has been giving me hell the past few weeks. You’d think with my husband owning the only mechanic’s shop in town, I’d have a reliable vehicle, but here we are.”

“No worries. It gave me a chance to meet some people around the building. I’m excited to get started though.” You sat in the chair across from her desk and she plopped down with a sigh as well.

“I’ve been begging Garth for two years for some help, so you are a light at the end of my tunnel. I’m hoping to retire in a few years and hand you the reigns, so let’s get to it, shall we?”

The next few hours were spent introducing you to all of the systems and procedures. After receiving a call from her daughter, Ellen decided to call it a day just after three in the afternoon and the two of you agreed to hit it hard tomorrow. You gathered your things and returned to the front area where Sarah was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when you entered the room.

“Hey! How are things going?”

“Ellen has to take off, so we’re going to call it a day and just work a little longer tomorrow.” You sat at the desk adjoining Sarah’s and set your things down.

“Take any desk. It’s just you and me out here. Charlie is the county IT girl and works out here sometimes, but she hops from building to building.”

“Well, I suppose this one is as good as any.” You unpacked a picture frame and a few supplies at the desk across from Sarah��s. “Hey, are there any places to buy furniture around here? I only moved with the bare essentials so I’m in desperate need of a few things.”

“So, what you’re saying is you need to go on a shopping spree? I’m in! I’ll drive.” Sarah grabbed her purse and coat and led you out the door.

She took you on a short tour of the staples around town before arriving at the only big box store nearby. You browsed up and down the aisles, pulling all the necessities off the shelf and tossing them in the cart. You’d have to order some of the bigger furniture pieces online since it was a small place, and they didn’t have anything like here.

Sarah had a basket and was creating a good-sized stockpile of her own. “Sam has been trying to put me on a budget for a while now, so I’ll have to hide this stuff before he sees.” A guilty smile pulled on the corners of her mouth.

“Just tell him you were shopping with an accountant and I approved all your purchases.”

“Hah! We’re going to be good friends.” She picked up a candle, smelled it, and placed it in her basket.

“Where does Sam work?” You asked as you looked through the bathroom towels.

“He’s the lawyer for Winchester Lumber, the sawmill in town. A lot of people work there actually, it’s kind of the main business that brings people in. Sam’s great grandpa started it and it’s stayed in the family. Sam’s older brother, Dean, runs the place right now, but I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hand the throne over to their Dad when he gets back. He got cancer a few years ago and they moved to Kansas to be closer to medical treatment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How is he doing?”

“He’s doing really well, actually. He’s in remission and they’re hoping to move back soon.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent checking things off of your to-do list and grabbing dinner with Sarah. She dropped you off back at your truck and you thanked her for showing you around before you went your separate ways.

Back at home, it took you a few trips to unload your haul, but you were just happy to have a few more things to fill your empty home. Your first day had gone better than you could have imagined, and you were filled with confidence in your decision to uproot your life.

Sarah opened her front door and did her best to sneak her shopping bags past Sam and Dean who were sitting in the living room, sharing a pizza and some beers. She successfully stowed her treasures away in the hall closet and joined the boys.

“Hey hon!” She placed a kiss on Sam’s forehead before grabbing a slice of pizza and plopping down on the couch next to him.

“You’re in a good mood.” Sam noticed his girlfriend’s chipper energy.

“I made a new friend today.” She took a big bite and gave a smile.

“Don’t you already know everyone in town?” Dean’s voice sounded as pessimistic as usual.

“No, actually. There’s a new accountant at city hall, Y/N. She just moved in yesterday.”

“That’s great! You’ll have to invite her over sometime.” Sam placed his hand lovingly on Sarah’s knee. “Where’s she living?”

“She bought a cabin up in the mountains sight unseen, so we went shopping for some essentials. I think she might be kind of close to you, Dean.”

Dean frowned, trying to think of which cabin the new girl would have bought. He moved up there to be alone, so the thought of a neighbor was disheartening. “You mean that old shack just off of Placer Creek Road?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

“She’s got a lot of repair work to do on that place.” Dean shook his head, glad that it wasn’t him that put any kind of investment into what he was sure was a money pit.

You awoke early the next morning to find that it had snowed overnight. Growing up in Arizona, you had never really experienced snow like this before. Every breath you took felt like your lungs were filling with ice and you couldn’t help but cough, willing the warm weather to find you soon. Winter was one thing you didn’t think about when moving to a mountain town, so you wanted to give yourself plenty of time for the commute. After packing a few things for lunch, you stepped outside to find your truck buried in a mountain of frozen powder.

“Ugh!” You groaned and threw your head back, looking around for a stick to help you dig out your vehicle. You made a mental note to buy a scraper after work. Ten minutes and one soaked pair of shoes later, you had finally freed your car. You twisted the key, forcing the engine to sluggishly turned over, then blasted the heat on high while you ran inside to change into dry shoes and socks before taking off down the road.

The feeling of your back wheels slipping around on the frozen dirt road was so foreign to you, and you weren’t a fan. About two miles away from the main road, your engine began to sputter as it struggled to trudge ahead through the wet snow.

“Please don’t do this to me…” You steered towards the side of the road as much as you could while the truck wound down to a full stop. An annoyed sigh escaped from your lips. “Great.” You turned the car off and then back on, willing it to start up again, but the clicks of defeat that sounded from under the hood dashed your hopes.

You hadn’t had the time to buy a heavy winter coat yet, so you zipped up the light jacket that you had on and began walking. You didn’t want to make a bad impression on your second day of work by calling in sick, so you picked up your head and kept going. One of the points of starting your new journey was to be more self-reliant, and this definitely fell under that category. Ten minutes had passed, and your toes were so cold that you were sure they would snap off and rattle around in your shoes at any point now. The sound of an engine coming down the hill made you look over your shoulder to see a snowmobile barreling around the corner and straight towards you. You quickly side-stepped out of the way, but not enough to avoid the kickback of snow that was thrown into your face as the machine drove past.

“Seriously?!” You yelled as you shook the snow from your clothes. The snowmobile stopped and slowly backed up to meet you.

“What are you doing up here?” The man abruptly asked as he pulled off his helmet. If you weren’t so annoyed and cold, you might have thought he was attractive.

“Being buried alive by some maniac speeding down the mountain.” You retorted and brushed the snow from your hair with your fingers.

“I’m going to assume that’s your truck back there?”

“Lucky guess.” The wind-chill blew through your jacket and you crossed your arms. “I don’t think it likes the cold, and I don’t exactly blame it.”

His eyes assessed you. “Crappy shoes, thin jacket, and no gloves. I’m going to assume that makes you the clueless new girl.”

“What an ass...” You thought to yourself.

“I guess it does, Kowalski.”

“Kowalski? Really?”

You were surprised he got your reference to Clint Eastwood’s infamously crotchety main character.

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to work.” You didn’t find much point in continuing on this conversation with such a smug jerk, so you continued on your path down the road and heard the snowmobile make a sharp u turn to climb back up the trail.

Ten more minutes later, you could see the main road just ahead of you had been plowed, and you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to be hiking through any more ankle-deep build-up. You could hear a vehicle slowly coming up behind you and you made sure to move as far over as you could to avoid being blasted with snow again. The truck slowed to a stop next to you and you looked over to see the same man from earlier rolling the passenger side window down.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” His voice still sported an undertone of condescension and he rolled his eyes when a doubtful frown from you was sent towards him. “Just get in.”

Hundreds of episodes of Dateline should have taught you to not get in a car with some stranger, but you figured that even if he didn’t murder you, you’d end up dying of frostbite and decided to you’d rather die inside a warm truck. You opened the door and took off your damp jacket before getting inside.

The man’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. You placed your hand by the heater on the dashboard in hopes of defrosting your fingers enough to feel them again.

“You shouldn’t drive a pickup in the winter.” His gaze stayed firmly glued on the road ahead.

“Uhm…” You dramatically looked around, “aren’t we in a pickup right now?”

“Yeah, a pickup with chains on the tires and a weighed down bed.”

“Well, I’m still pretty new at this whole snow thing…”

The man glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “I couldn’t tell. You’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“Should I be concerned that you know my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” he must have realized how creepy that came off, “I know Sarah. She’s dating my younger brother and she was telling us about you last night.”

“Oh, it all makes sense now. You’re the grumpy older brother. Dean, right?”

Another eyeroll made an appearance, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make any further comments.

“Well, I appreciate the ride. I’m sorry if I screwed up your morning routine.”

“It’s no big deal.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Dean wasn’t a man of many words, and you were okay with that. You weren’t really one for small talk either. Dean’s eyes moved to your arm that was extended towards the vent blowing heat.

“That’s a gnarly bruise. How’d you manage that?”

You pulled your arm back quickly, hoping that your sudden move didn’t come across as suspicious. “Oh, you know, just being a clutz. They never tell you that moving by yourself is a dangerous game.” You chuckled casually while watching his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he glanced at the bruise one more time. No further remarks were made so you assumed he bought your story.

Dean pulled up in front of City Hall and stopped as close to the door as he could get. Before you could reach for the door handle, Dean instructed, “give me your keys.”

“What?” Your face twisted in confusion.

Yet another fed-up sigh escaped from his chest. “Bobby Singer down at the auto shop owes me a favor. I’ll get him to tow your truck down and take a look at it.”

“Oh.” you weren’t expecting such a generous gesture from such a grumpy guy. “I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Hand it over.” The tone in his voice remained gruff, but the bluntness was slightly faded at this point. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your key ring, sliding the truck key off and placing it into Dean’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean’s eyes avoided yours and you took the hint that it was time to leave.

The wind blew flurries in the air, forcing you to quickly sprint to the door, meaning that you missed Dean watching you with curiosity. Sarah, who was observing from the front desk, didn’t miss his wondering stare. He quickly averted his eyes when he saw her spying and peeled away.

“Kowalski.” He muttered to himself with a half-entertained chuckle once he was a few blocks away. Dean would have never admitted it, but he quite enjoyed the witty nickname.

Sarah couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk that crept up on her face and leaned on the counter to greet you the second you stepped through the door.

“You look like you’ve had quite the morning.” She greeted.

“Yeah, something like that.” You hung your jacket up on the coat rack in the corner to dry and stomped the packed snow from the tread of your shoes.

“Am I going blind or did Dean Winchester give you a ride to work?” She quickly cornered you.

“Yeah. My truck broke down and then he tried to bury me in snow, so he gave me a ride.” Goosebumps covered your arms as you made your way to your desk. You had never been more grateful for heat.

Sarah crossed her arms and sat on your desk as you took your seat. “You know, people call him the Grinch because he moved way up the mountain to be all broody and alone.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand it. It’s kinda fitting.” You logged into your computer, but Sarah continued to press for details.

“Well did he say anything on the ride over or did he just glare at the road?”

“A little bit of both I guess. He told me I shouldn’t be driving a truck in the winter, but that’s about it.”

Ellen arrived and cut the chatter short. “Hey girls. You ready to get started, Y/N?”

“You bet.” You stood from your desk, but not before Sarah pointed an accusing finger at you.

“This conversation is not over!” She warned.

After lunch, Ellen had given you some expense reports to review and organize. It was tedious, but you didn’t mind the slow afternoon after a crazy morning. Sarah was helping you to punch holes in the stacks of papers and organize them into departments while the two of you chatted away. The snow had kept most people inside, so it was a slow day at the front desk. Just before it was time to call it a day, the bell of the front door dinged, and Sarah walked over to see who it was.

“Hey, Dean. You going over to Benny’s tonight?” She greeted.

“Not sure yet.”

Dean’s hands were shoved into his front pockets as he stared Sarah down, not wanting to give her any more room to speculate as to why he was here.

“Hi.” You smiled softly, trying your hardest ignore Sarah’s curious stare as you joined in the conversation.

He pulled a key from his pocket and set it down on the counter. “She’s all fixed up. Battery terminals were corroded so I cleaned them up a bit, but you’re going to need a new battery soon. That one doesn’t have much juice left in it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you worked at the auto shop.” You remembered Sarah saying something about Dean working at the sawmill.

“No, I used to. But I figured it would be an easy fix, so I took a look myself. I stuck some old grates in the bed for some weight. Take it into Bobby’s tomorrow after work and he’ll take care of the rest. He knows you’re coming.”

“Wow, I really owe you one. Thank you.” You slid the key from off the counter and fiddled with the metal ring.

“Don’t read into it.” Dean tapped his fist on the counter twice before swiftly leaving.

Sarah was biting her lip, and you slowly turned your head towards her. “Spit it out.” You gave permission for her onslaught of questions.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to fix your car for you!”

“He said he would have Bobby tow it back to the shop and take a look at it. I didn’t know he was going to fix it himself.”

“I’ve known Dean for a long time, he’s pretty much my older brother at this point, so I can see past all the grumpiness. He’s a really good guy, he’s just been dealt a hard hand the past few years that made him swear off people.”

That was a feeling you could easily relate to. “He really went out of his way to bail me out today, so he can’t be all that bad.”

“He’s all bark and no bite. Granted, it’s a big bark.” Sarah checked her watch. “Closing time! Hey, would you want to come back to my place after we clock out? Sam’s playing poker at a buddy’s house tonight so I figured maybe we could grab some take out and find some furniture for you online?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually! It definitely beats the PB and J I would be making otherwise.”

After work, you ran home to change and Sarah stopped for some Chinese food, then the two of you met at her apartment.

Some crappy TV movie played in the background while mostly empty take-out containers littered the kitchen counter. You were sitting on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table, browsing through loveseats while Sarah lay on the couch behind you giving her input.

The door gently swung open and the man you assumed to be Sam walked through. Sarah stood up and stretched before giving her boyfriend a hug.

“How was the poker game?”

Sam tossed his keys on the counter and pulled off his jacket. “About the same as always. Benny won most of the games, Cas still has no clue what he’s doing, and I lost a little too much pride.”

“You’ll get them one of these days. Come on,” she tugged on his shirt sleeve, “I want you to meet Y/N.”

You stood when Sam and Sarah walked into the room. “Y/N, this is Sam.”

“Ah, the infamous Y/N, I’ve heard lots about you the past day or so. It’s nice to put a face with the name.” He shook your hand. “How are you settling in?”

“Honestly, the move has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. Everyone here has been super welcoming and helpful.”

“Including Dean.” Sarah gave a knowing look to her boyfriend, who was clearly confused.

“My brother, Dean?”

“The one and only. He gave Y/N a ride to work and fixed her truck up for her.”

Sam’s face read skeptical. “My brother, Dean?” He repeated.

“I found myself knee deep in snow and car problems this morning. I’m sure he helped me out of pity more than anything.” You tried to explain, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow. I guess that’s why he was late to work today. Well, I hope he didn’t scare you off too much.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not at all, he really helped me out. But I have to admit, I feel bad. He would barely acknowledge my thank yous. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he heard you loud and clear, he’s just hasn’t been properly socialized yet.”

Sam finished off the rest of the Chinese and got to know you a little better while Sarah sat next to you on the floor, scrolling through furniture.

“Where’d you go to school, Y/N?” Sam stacked the empty red food containers together and set them aside as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

“University of Arizona. I didn’t originally plan on staying so close to home, but a full ride soccer scholarship is hard to turn down.”

“No way! That’s awesome.” Sam’s face lit up with an idea. “Oh! Every summer we do this obstacle course race thing here in town as part of the summer festival. Maybe you can be on our team this year?”

“That sounds super fun! Count me in.”

“Yes!”’ Sam made a fist in the air. “We’ve used to win every year, but we’ve come in second the past three times, so maybe you’ll be our secret weapon.”

Sarah joined the conversation once she’d had her fill of online shopping. “I was thinking, Y/N, I don’t know if you’re much of a baker, but if you wanted to say thank you to Dean, he’s a sucker for a good pie. I know he wouldn’t just brush that off.”

“It’s true. He’s a pie whore.” Sam nodded.

“Sam!” Sarah scolded.

“Noted,” you said through your laughs.

The clock in the corner of your laptop screen caught your eye and you realized how late it was getting. “I should probably start heading home before I hate myself tomorrow at work.”

“At least it’s not supposed to snow tonight.” Sarah teased.

“Wow, it’s going to be like that, huh?! It’s a learning curve, okay?” You stuck your tongue out as you gathered your things.

Sam stopped you after Sarah had said goodbye. “Hey, Y/N, I know Dean doesn’t make the greatest first impression, but do me a favor and don’t write him off just yet. He’s had a rough go the past little while and could always use another friend in his corner.”

“I won’t. I’m sure there’s a great guy buried under all that angst.” You gave a reassuring smile and Sam gave you a hug before you left.

The next day was Friday and between training and helping out with the front desk, the workday flew by. You needed to take your truck in to get the battery switched and Sarah had agreed to give you rides while you were without transportation. After work, you dropped off your truck at Bobby’s, and Sarah took you home. You were glad for a little time to yourself so you could clean up the house before the first delivery of furniture tomorrow morning.

On your lunch break earlier that day, you had gotten all the ingredients to make blueberry pie bars as a thank you for Dean. Time was in short supply, so you hoped these would be a suitable place holder in lieu of a regular pie. You quickly threw them together and loaded up a plate once they were cool enough. Baking had always been a stress reliever for you, and the way it filled your small cabin with warmth and sweet smells felt so cozy and charming.

Dean’s place was only a ten-minute walk from yours, so you bundled up and began your hike. You had finally gotten yourself a suitable coat and boots and couldn’t believe the difference they made as you crunched through the snow that was matted on the gravel road. His cabin was much newer than yours, and considerably nicer. A long staircase on the right side of the house led up to a wide porch. Smoke spilling from the chimney and lights beaming through the windows told you he was probably home, so you knocked on the door.

Clattering of locks being undone broke through the silence a few moments later and an expressionless Dean opened the door.

“Hi,” you began, “I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out so much the other day.” Dean stood silent and stone-faced, so you awkwardly continued. “I, uh, heard you were a big fan of pie, but I didn’t have enough time to make one from scratch, so I hope these will do.” You extended the plate of goodies and he looked at them doubtfully.

“Look,” a gravelly voice ended his vow of silence, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not looking for any new friends or whatever this is.” He began to shut his door when you interjected.

“Listen, this is nothing more than a simple thank you for bailing me out when I really needed it. I’m not going to force you to eat them, but I’m also not going to take them home with me. Maybe just wait until I’m gone before you throw them away though.” You set the plate on a neatly stacked pile of firewood off to the side of the door. “Don’t read into it.” You echoed his parting words from yesterday and took your leave. A sneaky glance over your shoulder as you walked away revealed that Dean had picked up the plate and was looking at it with a half-impressed nod. You assumed that was as much of a reaction as you’d get from him and marked the trip to be successful.

Chapter 2

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fic #supernatural fanfic series

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writinggarbage007 · 3 years

Text

Bad Bad Girlfriend

Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes x dark! reader

Warnings: Sex, stalking.Also murder, manipulating people,general mayhem, con woman

Casey in the bushes with a machete

Will update warnings on each chapter if necessary.

Slight AU

You showed Nick Fury out of your house and watched as he and Maria Hill left in a black SUV similar to your own. Shutting and locking the door you flipped on your security to the house and grounds. You were still irritated with Casey. She had put you in a sticky situation with Shield and now you were going to get her out of your life.

Walking up the wide staircase you plotted in your head. There was so much to do and so little time. Heading for your bedroom you stripped and got into the shower. You probably had an hour before Fury sent you the files he promised.

You went through your usual shower ritual and dressed in a loose tee and sleep shorts. Padding down the stairs you headed for the office and pulled up your email. Right on time there was one from Hill with a huge attachment. You read over the files for all Bucky's ex-girlfriends with amusement. They were suckers. They went all in after the first date and didn't see the break up coming. Not a mistake you would have made.

Emailing Maria back, you told her you would be in touch when you had information they could use and stood up. Dinner and a Netflix binge before bed sounded like a really good idea. Tomorrow you'd have to start digging into the underworld you tried to stay separate from so tonight was relaxation time, you thought.

It took a week for you to turn up a lead. A low level Hydra thug named Burke dropped off the grid in Richmond, Virginia a few weeks ago. Two days later, another Hydra agent, Astor went silent. He was reputed to be handy with a knife and had no respect for women. There was a pattern in the weeks leading up to the abduction. Then the doctor was flown into Dulles airport outside D.C., and his reputation was for experimentation and extracting information.

Wherever this Samantha assistant girl was it was looking like Hydra had plans for her. That was never a good thing.

You called Maria Hill directly with your info and ran it down for her. Dates, contacts, video you had hacked or gotten by pretending to be a police officer. You didn't tell her where you got it and she didn't ask.

"Are you sure this is everything?" Maria Hill asked, and you grinned at her formal tone.

"Just one more thing," you say turning toward the french doors of your office."My contact said one more person he knows of went missing in Brazil last week." You pause for dramatic effect, "Crossbones. Brock Rumlow."

"Fuck." Maria says and hangs up the phone. You barely hold your laughter in. You knew that name would get her.

The Avengers Compound:

Fury walks into the conference room like he owns the building, much to the annoyance of Tony Stark. All the Avengers were present as Fury had requested. He knew they thought he was dramatic but you had given him good information and he needed the team to follow up on it.

"We have information from an informant. The abduction was the work of Hydra. None of Barnes' exes were involved, although our informant says he may want to be on guard when it comes to Casey Piven. We still have her under surveillance, but she's bat shit crazy." He eyeballs Barnes as the former Winter Soldier sank into his chair. "We have a list of Hydra agents who went off the grid in the weeks leading up to Samantha going missing. You may recognize a few names."

Steve snatched up the folder Fury tossed on the table. He went white, standing and leaving the room. Tony sighed and took the folder and began reading the names to Friday for facial recognition and background.

When he got to the last name he paused before reading "Brock Rumlow."

Bucky stiffened and looked around at the rest of the team. They all had varying degrees of trepidation on their faces. He blew out a breath and rose to go after Steve.

"Barnes!" Fury barked,"walk me out."

Confused Bucky followed the leather clad man to the elevators. Once inside Fury hit the stop button and pulled a device from his pocket. Hitting a blue button he turned to Bucky and said,"We have 2 minutes until Stark's AI reboots the cameras. My informant would like to meet you. She is Ms. Piven's ex-step-sister and she has a lot of insight we can use. She isn't a low level con woman. She has….Skills. I would like you to take the meeting."

"Sir," Bucky began.

" Trust me Barnes she has a whole list of reasons she doesn't trust Casey Piven. She even told the chick to leave you alone. Her grandfather and I did business together and I have done business with her a time or two. Do a background on her. Of course then you have to disregard everything you read." Fury lets out a huffing laugh. "Name is Y/N Y/LN. Address and date of birth will be sent to your phone. Let me know soon. She isn't known for patience."

Fury restarted the elevator and when the doors opened strode away with a wave over his shoulder. Bucky pressed the button for his floor and chewed on his lip. He had an appointment with Dr Kate this afternoon and he needed to shower and check on Steve. He'd think about this then talk to Steve about it tomorrow. Getting off the elevator he saw his best friend sitting in the common room with his head in his hands. Maybe he'd talk to Natasha about it tomorrow. The Punk had enough going on.

The next morning Bucky headed to the kitchen to get breakfast early. He wanted to talk to Nat before Steve, Sam and himself went running. Entering the kitchen he saw Sam was already there but no sign of Nat.

"Has Natasha been down yet?" He asked Sam.

"Yeah, she left about twenty minutes ago on a recon with Clint. Fury's tip had Tony and her up all night." Sam replied sipping on his coffee. When Bucky's shoulders fell a little with a disappointed sigh Sam said, "You can talk to me. I probably won't make fun of you."

Bucky considered for a moment then related the story from Fury, everything except the shutting down of the security cameras. He low-key wanted to learn that trick himself. As he sat across from Sam and took a drink from his own coffee, Steve spoke from the doorway.

"You should meet with her. She might have more info to get Samantha back." Steve said with an intense look that made Sam and Bucky squirm.

"I know you're upset about your assistant Cap," Sam said, (ignoring Bucky's muttered Ya' think) But we don't have a background on this girl yet. Maybe we get…"

Before he can finish Steve is calling to Friday to run a background check and find any information she can on Y/N Y/L/N.

Bucky and Sam just look at each other for a minute as Steve storms out of the kitchen calling Tony to see if he has other ideas.

"He is taking this hard." Sam says and Bucky nods.

"He's always had a thing for her. He said he never asked her out because he was being professional."

Just then Friday announced that Bucky had a visitor. Looking at the security screen he saw his latest "girlfriend" at the front desk. He hasn't called her in over a week and had only texted her back once, but here she was. Damn he missed Samantha right now.

Going down to the lobby himself he took her aside and explained there was a lot going on. Their assistant was kidnapped and he didn't want to put her in that kind of danger so he was breaking up with her. When she started crying he patted her back gently leading her to the door. He felt like an ass. Did they all cry?

After she hugged him again and finally left he turned and the security guard at the desk asked if he wanted to follow the usual protocol. Bucky sat while the Guard, Mike he thought his name was, explained that Samantha blocked their numbers and revoked their access to the compound. He just nodded and walked to the elevator to go find Steve.

Steve and Tony were standing in the middle of the lab with your files floating in the air. Bucky looked at your driver's license picture and tilted his head a little. You were pretty. Looking at the rest of the floating files (he was never going to get used to that) he saw a picture of a large house. Where did women that lived in mansions get info on Hydra? There was something off about this whole situation.

"We can be wheels up in 20. It's a short trip, maybe another 20 to get there. I'll take Buck and Sam. We'll let you know if we need back up." Steve was telling Tony.

"Oh I'm coming along with you." Tony said rotating the files again. "I want to see what she had to say to the Manchurian candidate over there. And this background is too clean. There's no social media, no ugly secrets. She runs an office supply company and knows Hydra secrets. I'm not buying it."

An office supply company? Bucky was sure Casey had said that she worked at one when she was laid off. He asked Tony if there were lay offs at the company and wasn't surprised when Tony said not in the last ten years. Everything Casey had told him was a lie from the start.

Maybe this Y/N could help them find Steve's assistant before he had a total meltdown. She could also help him sort through Casey's lies. He still felt guilty that Samantha was caught up in his mess and if meeting this girl could help he was going to do it.

@supraveng @mycosmicparadise

#bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #dark reader #bucky x y/n #the avengers #bucky x you #bucky barns fanfiction

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petri808 · 4 years

Text

For Bakudeku 31 days of Winter on Twitter

The Best Damn Gift Ever 🎁

Co-workers pining + a nosy office manager = A Surprise Gift for Christmas (modern AU)

It was a morning like any other at the office. Izuku Midoriya walked in and greeted each person he passed on his way to his cubicle with a smile. For his first order of business, Izuku checked emails and work flow to see what needed to be completed before end of day. The holiday season is a busy one for their company, and each employees role important to keep the merchandise moving. But the one from HR stops his breath.

‘Good morning everyone! It’s that time again, and in anticipation of our upcoming Christmas party, I’ll be coming around today to have you pick your secret Santa name. See you soon! ~Ms. Ashido.’

For the last 3 years, Izuku’s dreaded this tradition. Each time pulling a name, praying not to pick one in particular and risk his secret being revealed. There was a damn good reason he avoided the person at all costs, because he could never control his reaction. How his body would heat up, he swore his cheeks would flush, tongue tied, and stomach in knots.

Pushing away his fears, he closed the email and went about his business. The day was busy enough that after a few hours, Izuku had forgotten all about it.

Until the shrill, upbeat voice of their office manager sent shivers down his spine.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Midoriya!”

He turned in his chair, “good afternoon, Ms. Ashido. How may I help you?”

The woman held up a simple paper bag and shook it. “It’s time to pick!” She grinned.

“Yay!” He faked a smile and reached in, doing his best to hide the tremor in his hand, and pulling out a slip of paper.

“Hope you like your giftee!” Mina chirped and walked away with a bounce to her step.

Izuku watched her leave and only when she was out of sight, slowly unfolded the paper. Please don’t be... please don’t be... please don’t be... he chanted in his head—

‘Fuck!’ It was him.

The fourth time was not the charm after all.

Panic set in immediately. He only had 2 weeks to figure out a gift with very little knowledge of what the man liked or disliked. How was he to accomplish this?! What if he hated the gift?! Izuku felt like he was having a heart attack!

“Hey, Izu I need some help with— dude are you okay?!” Co-worker Eijiro Kirishima popped in and found Izuku sweating and hyperventilating.

Thank goodness it was the one person who’d figured out Izuku’s crush. He shook his head, “I got him Ei,” holding up the paper, “Katsuki.” Izuku looked up as sweat beaded on his forehead. “I-I have no idea what to get and even worse Mina makes us exchange it at the party. I’ll have to face him! What do I do, Ei?!”

“Well,” Eijiro placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “First calm down, second I’ll help you find a gift.”

“Thanks Eijiro!”

“I’m rooting for you two, you know,” the man winked before walking away.

That didn’t help his nerves, but hopefully with Eijiros help he’ll get an appropriate gift and will just need to get through the exchange without freaking out. Ei was friends with Katsuki so this had to work... right?

True to his word, he and Eijiro go on a shopping trip searching for the perfect gift. To keep the exchanges fair for everyone, the rules were nothing over 3k yen. It made it a bit difficult, but eventually they found something that would work.

“You know,” Eijiro spoke as they sat at a cafe for lunch. “This could be a perfect opportunity to confess to Katsuki how you feel.”

“Are you insane?!” Izuku choked on his drink. “I don’t even know if he’s gay.”

“Oh, he is, but it’s been awhile since he’s had a boyfriend.”

“How do you know so much?”

“Cause we talk on our lunch break,” Eijiro smiled, “in fact, he’s been wanting to get into a new relationship, but he’s just waiting for the right guy.”

Izuku deflated in the chair. “I doubt a nerd like me is his type.”

“You might be surprised...”

The night of the party finally arrived and Izuku did his best to stay calm, mingling with co-workers, and partaking in the generous food offerings. He was doing so well... until Mina took the microphone and uttered.

“It’s secret Santa time! So, find your giftee everyone!”

Izuku scanned the room looking for Katsuki and the moment he found him they locked eyes. His breathing hitched, why was the man looking back with such intent?! He was frozen in place unable to take a step forward which in the end made no difference as Katsuki came to him instead.

Oh crap had they pulled each other?! The smug grin on Katsukis face only made things worse. Izuku clutched the bag in one hand, with the other over his heart as if it was willing it not to beat right out of his chest. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking the closer the man got.

“Hey,” Katsuki greeted.

“H-Hi,” Izuku stuttered back. His face was red. It must be. He couldn’t see it, but felt the heat rising in his smiling cheeks. “I’m y-your secret Santa,” he fumbled and held out the bag.

Katsuki takes it and holds out his gift to Izuku. “And I’m yours.”

“Thank you, Mr Bakugou,” Izuku accepted the gift. ‘Breathe normally. Don’t panic!’ But his crush was two feet from him! How could he not be freaked out?!

“I have a confession Izuku, may I call you Izuku?” Once he gained a shaky nod, Katsuki continued. “I arranged all of this.”

Izuku’s eyes widen. What?! “Y-You wanted to be my secret Santa?! Why?”

The man nods. “Mina and Eijiro were in on it too. They knew I liked you and told me you liked me too so,” he reached out tentatively and took Izuku’s free hand. “They came up with this idea to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Izuku’s mind was spinning from the overload of information and stimulation. His friends had been in on it. His crush was crushing on him too. This must be a dream. Someone pinch him. This was all just a dream of the party but it wasn’t actually happening. Stuff like this just don’t come true. Life isn’t like a fairytale! Izuku just couldn’t comprehend what Katsuki was telling him.

The man chuckled. “They said you would have been too shy to make a move, so I needed to do it. I’d like to take you out on a real date Izuku.”

“Oh my god...” Izuku breathes out in surprise. Katsuki was dead serious, this wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and the pressure on his hand was very, very real!

“Is that a yes?” The man chuckled again. “Please tell me that’s a yes.”

A single tear slipped down Izuku’s cheek as his eyes crinkled into a brightened smile and head nods yes. The air he’d been holding in his lungs were freed and a weight of anxiety lifted from his shoulders. “Is this what they call a Christmas miracle?” Izuku sniffled and wiped the moisture from his face.

Katsuki placed his hand on Izuku’s cheek, caressing, and smoothing his thumb along the skin as the man leaned into it. “I don’t know.” He smiled sweetly. “All I do know, is it’s the best damn gift I’ve ever received.”

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #ktdk #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bakudeku ficlet #bakudeku fan fic #modern au

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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years

Text

Resentment Ch. 1 (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 2 months of not seeing each other, Ethan and Naomi do not have a pleasant reunion.

A/N: So...I’ve been writing this for the past 2 weeks. Open Heart 2 is ripe with angst and untapped drama. Tbh, this is my 5th draft, and I kept deleting and writing, and deleting and re-writing this, and I had to step away multiple times, as this was probably be one of my more draining fics to write. But anyway, if you’re still reading this long winded ass note, thank you lol. And enjoy, as always!

Tags: @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @doroshi-desu @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @dr-nancy-house @adrian-motherfucking-raines

~v~

Seeing Ethan Ramsey again nearly knocked the wind out of her. It feels like she saw a ghost. But here’s here, at Donahue’s, strolling through the garden as if this is any other night. As if he didn’t disappear off of the face of the earth for 2 months.

Naomi didn’t plan on having such a visceral reaction to seeing him, but she has little to no control over her body these days. Her heart speeds up, beating twice as fast, a cold sweat breaks out, starting at her forehead, and there’s the flip of her stomach and unmistakable taste of bile rising in her throat.

‘Do not throw up,’ she silently begs herself. ‘Do not throw up. Please, keep it together, Valentine.’

The chant doesn’t work, the nausea hitting her hard, like a wave crashing against the shore. She jumps out of her seat, ignoring the looks of confusion from her friends, and makes a beeline to the restroom, pushing past the other patrons at the bar. She barely makes it into a stall before she’s on her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into a dirty public toilet.

Naomi isn’t sure how long she’s like this, embarrassingly clutching the toilet, but a knock at the stall door breaks her out of her trance. “It’s occupied!”

“It’s Sienna,” the voice on the other side says softly. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The door swings open slowly and Sienna attempts to squeeze into the small space. It’s a tight squeeze, but she manages to make it work.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Naomi mumbles weakly. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

“Yes I did,” Sienna argues. She helps Naomi to her feet and pulls at the roll of cheap toilet paper. She bunches it up and wipes the corner of Naomi’s mouth. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“I feel like I’ve just seen one,” Naomi quips back. “Let’s just say I did not expect to see Dr. Ramsey here tonight.”

“You didn’t know he was coming back?” Sienna asks. “I thought you two were close.”

Naomi thought they were close too. But she got ghosted. It was jarring, going from sleeping with Ethan and openly flirting with him, to him being her boss again, to him disappearing and cutting off all communication within a span of 3 days. “I thought we were too.”

“How do you think it’ll be, working with him tomorrow?”

“I have no idea what to expect,” Naomi replies honestly. “Hopefully the rest of the team is nice.”

Sienna lifts Naomi up, helping her stand on her feet again. They exit the stall and Naomi washes her hands furiously like she’s about to perform surgery.

They walk out of the bathroom, Sienna with a protective arm around her friend’s waist. The rest of their friends are now inside, at their usual booth.

They all stare at Naomi, and she hates it. Now they’re probably going to think of her as the weirdo who threw up upon seeing her boss (an ex-lover, though not everyone is privy to that information).

“You just missed the wildest shit,” Bryce says, almost breathless. “Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Thorne nearly got into a fight!”

That was the last thing Naomi expected to hear. “What?”

“Thorne was being a real creep, and he tried to feel up some young girl. He touched her and she broke his hand!” Elijah exclaims. “He got loud and rowdy, he pushed her down, and Ethan came out of nowhere, swooping in like freaking Batman. I thought he was going to snap Thorne’s neck at one point.”

“Where is the girl?” Naomi asks.

“She ran out of here as soon as she could.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Naomi murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Are you okay?” Bryce asks. “I’ve never seen you get sick before.”

“Whatever virus is fermenting in your body, please keep it away from me,” Jackie says, not even giving Naomi the chance to respond.

“Jackie!” Sienna tsks in annoyance. “Have some compassion.”

“She’s either drunk or it’s the stomach flu,” Jackie says with a shrug. “She’ll survive a little teasing.”

“It’s okay, Sienna,” Naomi insists. She loves her friend’s protective nature, but it really isn’t necessary. “You don’t have to go into mother hen mode.”

“Fine. But I’m making you soup after work tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Reggie announces last call, and the gang starts talking about their post-bar plans. Be it getting food, going downtown, or just going home. Naomi drowns out the conversation as her eyes settle onto Ethan. His back is turned to her and Naomi notices that he’s the only one left at the bar while Reggie is cleaning up.

“Does last call not apply to you?” Naomi asks, getting his attention.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement,” Ethan says simply.

“An arrangement.” Naomi rolls her eyes as she repeats the words. “Is that what you call a friendship?”

“I don’t have friends. But...I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

Naomi weighs her options. She can go home and put this night behind her, or she can stay out with Ethan. And actually talk to him.

She turns back to her friends. “You guys go on ahead. I want to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

She doesn’t believe that excuse for one second. And if her friends don’t believe it either, they don’t say anything. Sienna just tells her to not stay out too late, before they all leave, going their separate ways.

Once they’re gone, Naomi joins Ethan at the bar. She looks at, really looks at him. He’s still the same handsome guy, just more...rugged. He’s much more tan than she remembers, it looks like he’s gained weight—muscle, not fat—and he’s sporting an entirely new look.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she muses.

Ethan looks down at his green jacket, a vast departure from the sweaters and button ups he usually wears.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me,” he explains, toying with the sleeve.

“I like it.”

She doesn’t miss the way he perks up at the compliment, almost as if he was hoping she’d say something. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Duly noted. And the beard?”

Ethan doesn’t know why he needs her stamp of approval so badly, but the validation she gives him feels nice. He likes to know that she thinks he looks good.

“It looks good on you,” Naomi answers honestly. Ethan scratches the beard, his fingers flying towards it unconsciously at her words. He nods, soaking in her praise.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

Naomi looks around as an almost awkward silence settles between the two of them. She’s now actively aware of the fact that it’s just the two of them, alone.

“Why don’t we move this outside?” Ethan suggests, some of the tension dissipating. “It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. You want something to drink?”

Naomi’s stomach flips at the mention of alcohol. “You know what I want? A cup of ice water.”

Ethan’s eyebrow quirks up at the answer. They’re in a bar and she wants...water? He shrugs but heads behind the bar, nonetheless. Grabbing a Pilsner glass, he fills it to the top with ice and he also finds a bottle of water. He hands them off to Naomi. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They make their way outside. It’s so quiet now that everyone is gone. It feels peaceful. Ethan drops down in a chair near the fire pit and Naomi joins.

“I can see why you like it here.”

“Because nobody’s annoying me?” Ethan jokes.

“More or less,” Naomi concedes. “It’s peaceful.” Ethan nods in agreement. “So...how was it, being in the Amazon?”

“It was quite the experience. It kept me on my toes.”

“Fighting an epidemic in a different country sounds...thrilling. And scary. You’re brave for doing it.”

Ethan snorts. Naomi always manages to see the best in him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “That wasn’t bravery.”

Naomi looks down at her lap. “You didn’t keep in touch. Two whole months without any form of communication seems extreme, don’t you think? Especially after everything that’s happened with us?”

“Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you.”

“192,” Naomi says.

“Huh?”

“192. That’s how many times I’ve called you in the past 2 months. I also sent 75 texts and 30 emails. You could have responded to at least one of those.”

Hearing the numbers out loud makes Naomi feel ridiculous, like a stalker. And Ethan just feels...awful. He remembers his chest going tight every time he saw her name flash across his screen. He remembers the restraint it took him to not call her back, or reach out in any way. He needed to stay away. It was for the best, for both of them.

“Naomi, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start. Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever...what is was that we had.”

Ethan probably would’ve been better off taking this glass of ice water and throwing it in her face. The callousness in his voice chilled her to the core. “That’s how you’d describe it? As ‘whatever’?”

Ethan sighs heavily. Of course his relationship with the younger woman meant something to him, but if he was going to be her boss, they needed boundaries. There had to be a line.

“Pouring my heart out to you on multiple occasions and vice versa, secretly saving our boss’s life, you bringing Mrs. Martinez’s son to my ethics hearing, the sex, it all just culminates to a...whatever. What? Is what we went through just a casual experience in the life of Ethan Ramsey?”

“Of course not, but Naomi, I can’t go down this road with you again. We need to have a reset if things are going to work.”

She doesn’t know why the word ‘reset’ makes her laugh, but it does. She laughs, hard, almost maniacally, until her sides hurt and she can barely breathe. Ethan says nothing, staring at her in confusion.

“You know what, Ethan? Fuck you.”

That catches him off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me loud and clear. Fuck. You. You’re a coward. And a runner. You run at the slightest hint of something being hard, or if you have to face your own emotions and vulnerabilities. You run off, drinking yourself silly and keeping your head in the sand, and then you come waltzing back as if nothing happened, but guess what? Life still happens. There is no reset, no do-overs, no pauses. Time still moves forward.”

Tears prick the corners of her eyes and she wills herself to not cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve any more of her vulnerability. She doesn’t know why it hurts so much, but it does. The idea of him moving through life as if what they shared was minuscule and insignificant burns. It causes a sharp ache in her chest she didn’t realize she had the capacity to feel.

“While you were in South America, ignoring the almost 400 pieces of correspondence I sent, I was still here, still dealing with shit, still caring about you, worrying about you and your safety every fucking day. I don’t have the luxury of turning my feelings on and off whenever I see fit, and I don’t get to delude myself into thinking I can turn back time.”

How many times are they going to play this game before she realizes she’s always going to be the loser? She and Ethan get close, he rejects her but leaves just enough space and opportunity to keep her hanging on.

Naomi wraps her arms around her midsection and slightly curls into herself. Not even her own embrace is soothing at this point. The rejection stings, and she feels...stupid. Why does she keep holding out hope for Ethan, hoping he’ll want her the same way she wants him? Why does she keep coming back, waiting diligently like a little puppy, nipping at his ankles for the slightest bit of attention? Maybe she’s just a glutton for pain.

“If you want to hit the reset button, you can do it by yourself. I’m not playing that game with you.” Naomi abruptly stands up, clutching onto the back of her chair for stability. “Goodnight.”

Panic settles in his chest. He doesn’t want things with her to end like this, with her hating him. He wants her to stay. He wants to take back everything he just said. “Naomi, I–”

“Save it!” Whatever he’s about to say, whatever line it is that’ll feed her just enough false hope to keep hanging on, she doesn’t want to hear it.

After gathering her belongings, she turns on her heel, looking for the exit. Her entire body is rigid, defensive and ready to strike at any given moment, and she feels like she’s going to throw up again, which is something she truly does not have time for.

She’s fully prepared to walk away from him with whatever shred of dignity she still has, but she stops herself. She turns around, facing Ethan again.

“I called you a lot while you were gone. I left countless voicemails until your mailbox was completely full. Did you listen to any of them?”

“I haven’t listened.” Ethan feels ashamed by the answer, and he refuses to meet her big doe eyes, opting to look at the ground.

Naomi doesn’t dwell on the answer. She shakes off the hurt, and powers through.

“Last Wednesday, at 5:21 am, I called. You obviously didn’t answer, and I left a message. I’ll set the scene for you because I’ll never forget the moment. I was sitting in my bathtub, crying, almost hysterically. It was the type of crying that gets Meryl Streep and Viola Davis Oscar nominations, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. But I live with 3 other people, so I had to sob into a face towel until the worst of it passed. And then I called you. Logically, I knew you probably weren’t going to answer, but I figured one last Hail Mary couldn’t hurt so I did it anyway.

In the voicemail, I practically begged you to talk to me. To answer at least one of my calls. It was so...desperate. And pitiful. The old Naomi would rather get buried alive than to ever be so emotionally available and needy, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I needed you, I needed solace that I thought only you could give me, but I know now that it won’t happen. You’re way too emotionally stunted and unavailable.”

She inhales, something shaky and full of vulnerability, and every bone in her body is screaming out to just shut the fuck up and turn away.

“But you didn’t answer, you didn’t acknowledge it, and I was just absolutely gutted,” Naomi continues. “Because had you answered that call, or called me back some time that day, I would’ve told you that I’m pregnant.”

With that confession, Naomi visibly deflates. It feels like a crushing weight has been lifted off of her chest.

But Ethan feels the exact opposite. Unable to move, he gapes at Naomi. “You-you’re what?”

“Pregnant. 9 weeks, 5 days. It’s the size of an olive at this point, and before you ask, yes, it’s yours.”

Paternity hadn’t even crossed his mind at this point. He’s still stuck on the fact that she’s pregnant.

“So while it hurts to know what you want a reset, and to pretend we didn’t share anything, it is also literally impossible to do so,” Naomi says with a humorless chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’ve received the message loud and clear. See you at work tomorrow, Doctor. Oh, and congratulations.”

Ethan watches as she leaves, even though he calls her name, asking her to stay. His chest feels tight like someone is squeezing him from the inside, and he struggles to inhale. The revelation stifles him, and he can’t get his bearings.

Unable to do much else, Ethan falls back into his chair. Despite trying his damnedest to get things back on track, it feels as if he’s made everything so much worse.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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spookyhalloweennights · 4 years

Text

The Assistant (Oboros: SFW)

It had started when you were young, catching the glimpse of a pure white mouse carrying off one of the teeth that you had stashed underneath your pillow for the tooth fairy to find. You checked underneath your pillow, eager to find the precious coin that awaited you. The next morning you had explained to your parents about your experience with the white mouse. They had merely shook their heads with knowing smiles and explained that the white mouse was the Tooth Fairy’s assistant.

One night after stashing the final baby tooth underneath your pillow, you had heard a loud crash coming from your desk followed by repeated squeaks of frustration. Climbing out of bed, you made your way over to the desk where your collection of minecraft items resided. Looking into one of the blocks, you had found the white mouse.

“Help?” It asked, blinking at you as it awaited your response. You had backed up for a moment, surprised to hear an animal actually talk to you. It let out another frustrated squeak before you walked over and carefully picked it up.

“Thank you.” The mouse chimed with a now much more relieved squeak. You set it down and it seemed to examine all of the minecraft items on your desk, along with the different rocks and feathers you had found while playing out in your yard. “What is all this?” It asked after a moment.

“Well, the blocks are from a game called Minecraft, and I like collecting rocks and feathers…” You began but then paused and asked the mouse what it’s name was.

“Oboros.” He responded as he stood on his hind legs. “Oh shoot! I have a job to do. Thanks for saving me again!” He squeaked, climbing down your desk and grabbing the tooth from underneath your pillow. Leaving two coins under it for helping him before he was climbing back up your desk and out the window.

The years had passed, the last interaction with the mouse Oboros had in a way given you a push you needed. You had become a pediatric dental assistant but still pursued some other classes in college, and it was shaping up that your English class was the worst one. The essays were long and tedious to do, the professor seemed to take more points off when she was having a bad day and wouldn’t provide any help to the class.

Music blasted from your headphones as you sat in the corner of the library with a seemingly never ending pile of books in front of you. The research paper that you had was due by the end of the week, only giving you two more days to get it done and despite the numerous emails you had sent to the professor, she refused to answer a single one of them. Instead she kept directing you to the rubric which didn’t provide any help either. A frustrated sigh left you, resting your head against the open book.

“Why.” You muttered bitterly, only picking your head up when you heard a chuckle from in front of you.

He was shorter than most of the others but still remained just a few inches taller than you, he had snow white hair and red eyes. His face was elongated, the shape of a mouse’s while his tail was curled around his waist.

“Professor Arrowood’s class?” He questioned as he took a seat across from you, his voice was higher pitched like a squeak. “I had her years ago when mom made me come back here for dental stuff, I can help if you’d like?”

“Please, I would be forever grateful.” You responded as you slid the rubric towards him. He read over it briefly and searched through the pile of books that you had stacked.

“Well you actually have the correct information here, we just need to pick it apart and piece it back together.” He hummed, flipping through the pages of the biggest book you had picked out.

With the help of your newfound friend, you had easily passed the essay and to celebrate, you had decided to take him out to get some hot coco from the school’s cafeteria. The steamy drinks were placed in front of both of you and you were making idle chatter over classes, making lame dad jokes, and talking about what you would do during winter break and the like.

“So what exactly made you want to do dental work?” You questioned him, taking a sip from the paper coffee cup that held the delicious liquid inside.

“Well, I already had been doing it for years, mom just thought I needed a refresher after a slip up.” He grumbled in response, the topic striking a cord with him as he seemed bitter about the whole thing.

You could sense the discomfort so you decided to change the topic rather than pushing it. “Hey so, I never got your name.”

“Oboros. I thought you knew that already?” He asked with a faint smile gracing his features.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief, the mouse from your younger years was the one sitting across from you at the table drinking hot coco? You shook your head.

“Yeah, guess I should’ve been more clear huh?” He shifted in his seat. “It’s been awhile.”

“That’s… Something.” You murmured before sighing. “A little warning would’ve been nice but I guess it could’ve been worse.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I take you out on a date sometime soon? I’ve developed a fondness for you.” You could see the nerves in him as he shifted in his seat and seemed to look anywhere but directly at you.

“Sure.” You responded with a faint smile, not quite sure how to explain this one to your friends but you found yourself loving the way a relieved smile came over his features as his body relaxed.

#exophilia #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster #Spooky'sWriting #Spooky'smatches #sfw #spookyhalloweennights

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

Clayton Keller: Part 9

Word count: 2057

He pokes me in the shoulder for what seems like the millionth time.

“Just let me finish this page, Clayton,” I repeat what I’ve been saying.

“You’ve been on that page for like ten years,” he whines. “It’s time to start paying attention to me.”

I finally move my eyes from the words to the brunette’s face and he claps sarcastically, causing me to bite back a smile.

“It’s about damn time that you’ve looked at me with those pretty eyes,” he compliments.

I roll my eyes, swatting him in the shoulder. “Okay, now I’m paying attention to you. What do you want?”

“Cuddles!” He cheers, tackling me before I can react and pulling me down onto the couch with him. He wedges me in between his legs, my torso pressed against his and my cheek resting on his chest. His arms wind around me, pulling me somehow even closer to him and he rests his chin on the top of my head.

“Get a little closer, will you?” I ask sarcastically, holding back the joy I feel in this position and in his arms.

“I don’t think that’s possible but I could try-”He’s about to move when I reach my hand up and set it on his bicep, stopping him from moving. He grabs the remote, opening Hulu and turning on some random HGTV show.

“Clayton, we’ve talked about this,” I groan.

“Hilary and David are so much better than Jonathan and Drew,” he continues the argument that we’ve started a few days ago. I turned on the TV after we had sex and Property Brothers on. I was enthusiastic to watch but Clayton refused, claiming that Love It or List It was a much better show.

He’s wrong.

“Hilary’s too pushy and David just chooses random houses, they’re not anything close to what the couple wants-””Are you guys really arguing about this again?” Christian peaks his head out of his room, raising his eyebrows with an unimpressed expression.

Christian had to break up this argument last time, too.

When he leaves, the boy holding me pokes my arm to get my attention again. “How many swimsuits do you have?”

“I don’t know, like two or three. Why?” I crane my neck to look at him, giving him a confused expression.

“You’re going to have to get more.”

“Why?” I repeat.

“Because you’re coming to Florida.” A grin begins to spread across his face but I stare at him blankly.

“What do you mean?”

His grin starts to fade when he realizes I’m not as ecstatic about this as he is. “Well, bye week is coming up. A few of the guys and their partners and I were planning to head down to Orlando for a vacation and I think that you should come with me.”

“Clayton, I have school,” I start slowly. “I can’t just drop everything at your beck and call. I thought we talked about this.”

“It’s a vacation, Y/N, I thought you would love to go on a vacation with me.” His tone shows that he’s not understanding me and what I’m saying.

I sit up, no longer wanting to be held in his arms. I turn my body so that I’m facing him and cross my hands in my lap.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go on a vacation with you. I can’t just leave school for a week, especially after winter break and with a new semester beginning,” I explain.

“Your teachers won’t even care that much,” he brushes it off.

“Professors, Clayton, and yes they will. First impressions matter, especially when it comes to professors because they decide my grades and I might ask them to write me recommendation letters or something one day,” I ramble on, then clear my throat once I realize that I’m doing it. “Besides, why do you care so much? I’m just your sugar baby.”

His eyes narrow at my words and I watch his jaw clench. It’s clear that what I just said struck a nerve with him. Pushing all of the cuddling and sweet words to the side, that’s what we are at the end of the day. We’re in this arrangement so I can receive money and gifts and he gets sexual intimacy with me.

“Do you really think that’s all this is by now?” He inquires sternly.

I sigh, redirecting my gaze to my hands. We were having such a wonderful morning but of course it had to end. It always does.

“Clayton-””Fine, if we’re doing it that way, then you need to come on the trip with me as my sugar baby.”

“You can’t do that,” I protest.

“I’ll put it in the contract,” he states smugly.

“We both have to agree to changes in the contract and what goes in it,” I remind him. His face drops and he watches as I stand up, closing my textbook and notebook.

He’s silent as I put them in my backpack, zipping it up and lugging it over my shoulder.

“Look, Clayton, it’s just not possible. And I really don’t appreciate you threatening me with the contract every time something doesn’t go your way,” I admit. “I’m going to go home and let you cool off.”

He still hasn’t said a word by the time I slip on my shoes and close the door behind me. I see green eyes watching me through the windows as the Uber pulls away.

“Ms. Y/L/N, come here, please,” my professor calls out as class ends. I nod nervously, unsure of why he wants to meet with me.

I finish packing up my materials and say goodbye to the friend who sits next to me, approaching the professor and wringing my hands together.

“You wanted to see me, professor,” I state, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Oh god, nobody plagiarized my essay, right? I wrote it myself, I swear, I can show you the Word document-””It’s not about your essay, Y/N, although that was very interesting to read,” he smiles at me. “I just wanted to let you know that I will mark you down as absent for the two classes you’ll be missing next week so you won’t have any absences left for the semester without damaging your grade. Have fun on your vacation, though, and check the syllabus for any work you’ll miss.”

I stare at him, perplexed. “What are you talking about, professor?”

“The email that you sent me last night, of course. I’m not a big fan of email, so I didn’t respond but wanted to tell you in person, instead,” he informs me. I didn’t notice him packing up his stuff while talking to me but soon he’s out the door, shooting a, “See you on Wednesday, Y/N.”

I quickly pull out my phone, opening my email app to see what he’s talking about. Sure enough, an email was sent from my email address to all of my professors informing them that I’ll be on a vacation next week and unable to attend class.

My blood boils due to all of the rage I feel inside. I feel like I’m about to physically shake, or explode, or punch a wall or something I am so angry. How dare Clayton do this to me? I feel so betrayed, so disrespected, so unheard.

He doesn’t answer any of my calls on my drive over to his house, fueling my fury even more. I feel like I’m about to put a hole in the door because I pound on it so hard. Christian yanks open the door, a fearful expression on his face once he sees me and I storm past him without another thought towards Clayton’s room.

“You emailed my professors and told them that I’m going on vacation?” I shout as soon as I see him. My anger is diminishing once I see him buried under his sheets, shirtless torso peaking out. He looks up at me with adorable, sleepy eyes. He emailed your professors without your consent, Y/N. He didn’t respect your wishes to not go on the vacation.

“Yeah,” he rubs his eyes, “Why did you wake me up?”

“Because you completely disrespected me, Clayton,” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “You invaded my privacy by using my email without me giving you permission, then you disregarded what I said because it’s what you wanted. That’s not okay.”

He sits up, pushing his hair back. “But you said you wanted to come with. I just figured you didn’t want to pull the trigger.”

“Yes, you’re right, I didn’t want to pull the trigger,” I agree, “Because I have commitments that are bigger than whatever this is. And you just showed me that’s a great decision.”

“You don’t mean that,” his jaw clenches.

The rage quickly dissipates and sadness replaces it instead. Sadness that Clayton just couldn’t listen or respect me. Sadness that he went behind my back to pull such a selfish act- even though he may say it’s for me to go on a vacation, at the end of the day it’s what he wanted to start with.

“I really wanted to go on that vacation with you,” I admit, “But it just wasn’t possible. And by you doing this without telling me, intentionally, to force me to go with you, it makes me not really want to go. Why would I want to spend time with someone who doesn’t respect me?”

I exit the room before he can respond, wiping the tears that start streaming down my face. I hear Clayton call after me as I travel throughout the house and I ignore the concerned look that Christian sends me.

I hop back into the Uber before the hockey player can follow me. I don’t want to hear what he has to say right now.

“That’s really fucked up,” Betsy agrees after I explain the whole situation to her, second drink in her hand and fourth drink in mine.

“I just can’t believe he would do that,” I shake my head in disbelief, tipsy and not controlling what leaves my mouth. “I mean, he has to learn to respect me before we enter a relationship with one another, right?”

“You guys are thinking about dating?” She smirks at me.

I stare at her, caught off guard. I can’t believe I said that out loud. I sigh, realizing I’m going to have to start explaining myself. “Yes, we were close to getting out of contract territory and into dating territory. Then, of course, he had to invade my privacy and fuck it all up.”

I play with the label on my bottle of beer and Betsy watches silently.

“Maybe what he’s saying is the truth,” she responds.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe he really thought that it was just hesitation on your part. I mean, you haven’t been very upfront for the few months you’ve been with him so maybe he just thought you were overreacting,” she explains.

“I understand what you’re saying.”

“And he must really want you to go on this trip to use your email like that,” she continues, “He had to know that you would find out and confront him. And since he knows you so well, he would know how bad your reaction would be. So he probably predicted that while sending out the email but sent it anyway since he wanted to spend time with you so bad.”

“That’s really a messed up way to show that he wants to spend more time with me,” I point out.

“I know. I didn’t say it was logical. But it could be an explanation.”

I sit back in my seat, taking a sip from the bottle. Knowing Clayton, it’s a probable explanation. The man doesn’t think too deeply into things and although he does act selfishly sometimes, this would benefit us both if I went on the trip.

I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause as much damage as he did when he put his plan into action. I don’t think that he thought of invading my privacy while using my email or how my classes would actually be affected.

But that doesn’t take back the fact that he did it in the first place.

#NHL imagines #Clayton keller imagine #NHL player one shot #NHL player imagines #Clayton keller imagines

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dawnwave16 · 5 years

Text

Not what I expected

OMG 2 chapters in 1 day! Anyway thank you to everyone who has stuck with me as I wrote this fic! It is my first and I have learne a lot. I might do one-shots of this at a later stage but right now, I’d like to try something else!

First; 12; 13(Final!)

Chapter 13:

This was not going to be pleasant.

She was right when she had said it wasn't going to be pleasant. She'd spent the rest of the day collecting all the loaned out miraculi except the turtle and then she'd had to go to the Agreste Mansion to search it top to bottom for any other miraculi or Miraculous related artefacts. Commissaire Clement had been very understanding about the fact that they couldn't take any of it for evidence. He had also handed back the turtle miraculous without a protest.

The search had not been pleasant in the slightest. Four more maraculi were found but as they had obvious damage to them they had never been used, she'd have to heal them to free the Kwamis in them. The grimoire was reclaimed as were several scrolls and journals some were encoded some were not. The worst surprise by far, however, was finding Mrs Agreste in a cryotube near Hawkmoths old lair. Adrian had had to walk away for an hour to calm himself, though her clever kitty had made the excuse that he needed to talk to Adrian needed to be told.

It was decided she would be taken to the hospital and checked over by doctors. If they couldn't do anything for her, they would turn off the machines. Marinette could see how much this decision hurt Adrian but she couldn't help but feel proud of him. She also knew that this would just add to the number of counselling sessions he would be taking.

Once everything in the mansion had been cleared, she had raced home, stored everything away and headed to the police station to give her statement against Nakane. That had not been pleasant at all. By the time she had finished she felt raw from the many emotions that had spilt out that now that she had finally let herself feel again. Again it was Commissaire Clement, that had taken her statement, though her dad had stayed in the room with her and they had been very understanding whenever she had needed a break to compose herself. She had been grateful when she had finally been allowed to leave the station even though she knew that her part of making sure Nekane never got out of jail was just beginning. Her mother would also be spending time in jail. Although she had had nothing to do with Nekane's actions, she had helped to cover them up. As far as the law was concerned she was just as guilty as her daughter.

She spent the rest of the weekend with her dad and little brother, finally able to relax and get to know them properly, rather than have to spend any time she had with them going over strategies. Morgan had gone over her battle strategy from the fight with Candid and pointed out she could have called on any of the members of the team to help. She had pointed out that had she done that, her identity would have been revealed which made Morgan smile and ruffle her hair, pleased that she had pointed it out. She had also spent time with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia, all three of them would be going home with the knowledge that they would be receiving a custom made MDC original, something that made all three of her new aunts very happy. Rossi had taken to teaching her the best ways to handle her fame once her brand had become known and she had had several games of chess against Reid.

It had been during a quiet moment when she had been dozing on the couch while cuddled up to Jack that Jack had broken her mellow mood completely. His face had been totally innocent but she could see the glint in his eye as he looked at her and she was immediately on guard for whatever would happen next. It hadn't helped though.

“So, Nette, when are you seeing your boyfriend again?” Her face had gone blood red and the little imp had had the nerve to laugh at her. The reaction from all the adults in the room had been instantaneous though.

“Boyfriend!”

“What boyfriend?”

“Who do I need to kill for stealing my niece's heart?”

Jack had started laughing at that stage so Hotch had turned to him and asked Jack if he'd been joking but Jack shook his head with a cheeky grin. He didn't say anything else though, his sister's dark look made sure of that! All the adults fixed the blushing teen with a look.

“Explain. Now.”

Marinette sighed and grumbled under her breath.

“I'm so going to get you back when you start dating Jack!” Jack just smiled so Marinette continued, “Ali had been sending me gifts anonymously since his last visit. At first, I thought it was Adrian but after he and I had our talk about our feelings and decided we were better off as friends, I started looking for more clues. I probably would have figured it out sooner but as you all know I had other things on my mind. Anyway, once I did I sent him an email and we started to talk to each other that way. When he came to visit the other day he asked me to be his girlfriend and I agreed. We wanted to see how things would go once things calmed down before we said anything to anyone though.”

She fidgeted slightly towards the end of her explanation, making the adults smile.

“I'm glad you not committing to anything serious just yet but please let us know if it ever gets that way.” Sabine smiled as she spoke, then laughed as Marinette nodded rapidly.

The BAU team was flying home in the morning as they had been away for quite some time and Cruz was getting antsy about their absence. Apparently, cases had been pilling up, so they all settled back to just relax and even played a few games of UMS III where Marinette thrashed everyone. They had agreed that she could take the Monday morning off to see them off so they didn't say goodbye that night. Due to this, there were quite a few teary goodbyes when they were all at the airport. They all agreed she would visit over the upcoming Christmas holiday and they would work things out from there.

Walking into class after lunch was a weird experience for Marinette. The news of Jagged and Penny's wedding had been published in a magazine that morning, so her class had seen her all done up in the photo's. They also knew that she had designed the wedding outfits, and handmade them and they were all clamouring for the details. They seemed to want to push the matter of Nekane to one side, but as much as Marinette wished to she just couldn't. She ignored them for as long as she could by texting Ali and Adrian. One for support, the other to find out if he was at school or not. He wasn't so she volunteered to take note for him which he gratefully accepted.

Alya took the choice of if she wanted to deal with her class or not away from her by snatching her phone straight out of her hands.

“Gurl, I was talking to you!”

“No, Alya, you were talking at me and expecting me to listen. I don't see why I should.” Marinette said calmly, her tone still showing the pain she was feeling though. “Now, please hand my phone back to me, I was in the middle of a conversation of my own.”

Alya flinched at Marinette's tone and the implications of her words but seemed determined to stand her ground. “Oh, yeah, with whom?”

“I don't see how that is any business of yours. Or of anyone currently present in this class if I'm honest.” This time the whole class flinched. “Now, hand me back my phone.”

“Not until you talk to us again.” Alya stubbornly declared.

“Mlle Césaire, give Mlle Dupain-Cheng her phone back right now! It is not your property and it is not your right to demand answers from her. You are already on thin ice young lady. Don't push your luck.” Marinette didn't know who this new teacher was but she liked her already!

Alya handed Marinette her phone and sulkily went to sit down. Classes went smoothly not that there was no fear on Marinette's part of another Akuma attack. There was an interview set up for Ladybug to give an official press release scheduled for Saturday Morning. They had delayed letting the public know so that no-one would connect Hawkmoth to Gabriel Agreste. This wasn't done to protect Gabriel but to protect Adrian.

They would never release the details about who Hawkmoth and Mayura were if everything went to plan. Officially Gabriel and Nathalie had been arrested for drugging Mrs Agreste to the point that she is now in a coma and would have a closed trial. Similarly, Adrian was out of school due to having stumbled across his mother by accident somewhere in the mansion and had called the police to report his father. As far as Paris knew he was in intense councilling for the trauma of finding her. Her parents had also put their name down to adopt Adrian however it had been decided that he would live with his long term bodyguard Gustave Marius Beaufort.

By the time school had finished for the day Marinette had had it with her class. First, they had said she was their Everyday Ladybug, then when Nekane had joined she was a bully, now it seemed she was back to being the flavour of the month. She was over it. She didn't, however, think that they were worth getting angry over nor did she think she owed them anything. So she ignored them and stuck to her group of friends, which included Alix and Nathaniel of course. Adrian did the same when he came back too. None of the class was happy with this but anytime they tried to protest a teacher would step in. It took two weeks for the class to realise that things were not going to go back to the way things were before. As for Marinette's true friends? They enjoyed being able to relax knowing they did the right thing.

@northernbluetongue; @moonlightstar64; @wargraymon0709; @winter-gardenflower; @bee-wrecker; @starsshineandgivehope; @goggles-mcgee; @vivilakitty

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #criminal minds #au bio dad for marinette #lila salt #not what i expected

153 notes · View notes

melonkooky · 5 years

Text

a shoulder to cry on [jeon jungkook]

requested

word count: 5658

genre: fluff, some angst, highschool!au, jungkook x reader

warnings: mentions of depression/mental health

author’s notes: this turned out suuuuper long, and i’m proud of it. sorry this took so long (i feel like i’ve been say that waaaay too much recently). also, i didn’t go through to check for mistakes because i wanted to get this posted since it’s been quite a long time since i last posted something. thank you all for staying!!

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

“and… jeon jungkook and l/n y/n.” the teacher finished.

you groaned loudly, causing the teacher to cast you a glare.

you stood up. “can i join another group, mrs? please.”

“no, y/n,” she spoke sternly. “you guys never get anything done when i let you choose your groups.”

you sighed and leaned over your desk, resting your forehead against the cool surface of it. it was bad enough that you were getting assigned this ridiculous research project for your history class, but being assigned to work with jeon jungkook, that just made everything worse.

you heard the very student that you despised from the back of the classroom. he was most likely feeling the same level of dread that you were feeling. you felt yourself tuning out the rest of your classmates, only because of how loud jungkook was while talking with his friends. “why does it have to be her? and why did the teacher put you two together after complaining that we never get anything done when we work together?”

you heard one of them laugh. “i don’t know.”

“don’t laugh! i’m literally suffering right now and we haven’t even begun.”

you rolled your eyes as you sat up straighter. you rested your chin on your fist, your lips forming a pout. you stared off into space, drowning out the chatter of students, until the teacher spoke once more, “you guys may begin on your projects. today will be your only work day. the rest must be done outside of school. sorry for the inconvenience, class, it’s just that we have a lot to cover before winter break. i’ll pass out the requirements now. don’t forget to tell me what your guys’ topic is. no repeats.”

you sighed again. you turned to look around the classroom, finding students already standing up and moving desks around, greeting and conversing with their partners. everyone seemed generally happy with who they were assigned with, everyone except for you and jungkook.

you were already stressed as it was. you had a lot to do because of school, but also, your mental has hasn’t been all that good. because of that, you haven’t felt the strength or motivation to get anything done. you’ve only been able to produce results that you felt were very poor, but luckily for you, the teachers haven’t noticed that lack of effort you’ve been putting into your schoolwork.

after the teacher passed out the worksheet that had a rubric as well as the requirements for this project on it, you turned around to see jungkook stand up from his desk all the way in the back corner. he was visibly disappointed, and his friends, taehyung and jimin, were laughing behind his back, happy that they weren’t in his predicament.

you watched jungkook maneuver around the clumps of messily-formed groups before going over to your desk. there was an empty desk in front of yours, so he walked over to it. but instead of sitting in it like a normal person, he sat down in it reversed, his legs straddling the chair so that he could face you. he sighed, “so, partner, what do you have in mind?”

you glared at him. “look, if we’re going to be working together for the next two weeks, let's at least pretend that we don’t despise each other.” you suggested.

jungkook stared into your eyes. they were half-lidded, and with his head resting on his hand, you could tell that this was literally the last thing he ever wanted to do. and you didn’t blame him, you felt it too. but he didn’t have to look so bored and uninterested. it was only making you angrier. if you ended up being the only one that put in work and effort into this history project, you would not hesitate removing his name off of the presentation and taking all the credit to yourself.

“fine.” jungkook replied, after some evident contemplation. “so, your idea.”

you sighed, sinking back into your chair. “i don’t know.”

jungkook removed his head from his hand, resting his arm over the desk. he crossed his arms on top of your notebook, clearly not giving a fuck, and stared out the window. the continuous bouncing of his knee made your desk wobble. could this situation get any worse?

after lots of ideas, most stupid, were thrown into the air and written down on a blank page in your notebook, you and jungkook finally agreed on an idea. “ancient egypt?” jungkook suggested, “there’s lots of things you can talk about there.”

the point of the presentation was to decide on a country from anywhere in the world and basically create a presentation on its history. it was a rather vague prompt, so students could be creative with it.

you agreed with jungkook, you were interested in it yourself. “alright. now go tell her what we chose.”

jungkook, without any hesitation, stood up from the desk and walked over to the teacher’s desk. taehyung and jimin happened to be there, so, your partner became immersed into a deep conversation with them. he didn’t come back until the teacher told him to sit down.

when class ended, jungkook stood up to go back to his seat. but, you had a question for him. “jungkook.”

he turned around, looking at you with an expressionless face. “hmm?”

“what days work best for you?”

he smirked. “are you asking me out?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, i mean to work on the presentation.”

his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. “i have dance practice mondays and wednesdays after school, and sometimes saturdays. any other day works for me.”

you nodded, jotting the note down in the corner of your notebook, on the page that had been used to brainstorm ideas for the presentation.

jungkook then walked away without another word. you sighed tiredly, staring at your note. the next two weeks were going to be excruciatingly painful.

----

when school was over, you were on your way out of the classroom when you remembered that you had no way of contacting jungkook. you dreaded going up to him and asking for his number, it felt weird to you, but there was no other way.

so, off you went. you wandered in the direction of the dance practice room. it was monday after all, so jungkook had practice. the amount of students began to thin the farther and farther you walked. the room was next to the music room.

you heard laughter on the other side of the door as you approached the room. you could feel your anxiety creeping up, making you feel worse and worse. with a sigh, you pushed the door handle down and opened the door. immediately seven faces turned to look at you. you recognized jimin and taehyung, as well as two others from seeing them in the hallways or at lunch. but the other two you didn’t recognize, not that it was important. jungkook was shocked to see you there. “y/n?” he called, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

your cheeks burned as you approached the seven boys. they had changed out of their uniforms and were stretching their limbs and muscles. they seemed shocked as well.

you cleared your throat. “um, i don’t have any way to contact you, a-about the project.”

his friends smiled and began to playfully hit each other’s shoulders. you felt uncomfortable, almost claustrophobic. and it didn’t help that jungkook was walking towards. he held his hand out to you.

you stared at him for a while before reaching into your jacket pocket for your phone. you quickly unlocked it and opened your contacts app, before finally placing it in the palm of your hand. you were careful enough to not make any contact with his skin.

jungkook added his name into your phone, as well as his number, then he handed it back. “there.” he said. “text me later if you want to meet up.”

you nodded. “thank you.”

he nodded before turning around without any second thought. suddenly, after jungkook joined back into the group, it was like you were invisible. you were completely ignored by them. they talked with each other and joked with each other loud enough for them to not hear your slow-paced footsteps as you left the room.

your mood immediately dropped as soon as the door closed behind you, lightly hitting your back. it was nothing new. you had always felt invisible to people. you had some friends here and there, but they were always closer with each other than anyone was with you. you weren’t popular either, or talented. you felt like you had no purpose other than exist and do homework.

with a long, dramatic sigh, you forced yourself to walk away. you had to go home and begin homework after all.

that night, you sat in your bedroom with your laptop opened in front of you. you had made a blank document and presentation, both for the project. you texted jungkook, do you have an email? i made a new presentation.

he didn’t reply immediately. it wasn’t until ten minutes later that he sent you a message telling you that he had been taking a shower. then he gave you an email address. you responded, asking him if you and him could work on researching ancient egypt in the library after school the next day. he said yes.

you emailed jungkook the document, telling him on the document that it was going to be used for taking notes and copying down information, that way both of you could have access to everything. then you emailed the presentation.

since there was still this week as well as next week to do the presentation, you shut off your laptop, telling yourself that there was no need to rush anything. then you got ready for bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

----

for some odd and quite annoying reason, the day seemed to have gone by faster than normal. perhaps it was because you had been busy with school all day, but you felt quite surprised when the final bell of the day rang throughout the building.

you packed up your materials and notebooks into your backpack, remembering that you had to go to the library. you and jungkook were supposed to get started on researching about ancient egypt.

while packing up, a loud “boo” came from behind you, scaring you. you screamed and jumped away. you turned around to see jungkook grinning proudly. you glared at him, “that’s not funny, jungkook.”

he continued to laugh. “maybe not to you, but it definitely was for me and my friends.”

your eyes widened slightly as you stepped to the left in order to see around jungkook. you found taehyung and jimin peeking their heads into the doorway. they too were laughing.

you felt your cheeks grow hot and turn red. you glared at jungkook once more before angrily grabbing your backpack and placing it on your shoulder. you stomped around jungkook and flashed a glare to his friends before leaving the classroom.

“wait!” you heard jungkook say a quick goodbye to his friends before hearing the rapid pace of his feet hitting the floor. “y/n, aren’t we going to the library?”

you ignored him and continued walking.

he groaned. “are you serious? it was just a small scare. it’s not like i hurt you in anyway.”

he was right. but to begin with, you already hated this boy’s guts, and were barely tolerating his presence around you. for him to have scared you like that, would have made you laugh after if it was a friend of yours, but it had been him. it only aggravated you.

but, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal, you wanted to mess with him slightly.

you continued to walk with an expressionless look, staring forward you walked towards one of the exits of the school (when really you weren’t going to leave but simply take the long way to the library).

“y-y/n.” he stuttered, trying to get your attention. “are you seriously mad?”

you could tell he was slightly angry, but it was amusing in your eyes.

“are you going home? but we haven’t even started. y/n, this isn’t fair.”

finally you broke into a small laugh, a choking sound emanating from within your throat. you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

jungkook stared at you in disbelief. his round cheeks began to redden, matching the shade of the red backpack from a student that walked past just a few seconds earlier. his eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly open.

“i was just messing with you.” you admitted as you turned the corner, the exit of the school now behind you.

jungkook scrambled to catch up to you. he was embarrassed by his reaction, and that he let you do that to him. he didn’t, in all honesty, expect that from you.

the afternoon slowly turned into evening. you and jungkook got a lot done, which was surprising to you. “the teacher gave us two weeks to prepare for this.” you began, turning to jungkook with a carrot in your cheeks. “but, we’re already close to being done. just a little more research, and then we can begin putting it all on the slides and onto index cards. then we add pictures.”

jungkook nodded, but then his expression told you he was confused.

“what?” you asked him, biting another carrot.

“why index cards? what are those for?”

you shook your head, a small smile on your face. “we need it to present. we can’t put every single detail of information on the slides, it would be too much for the class. so we do only a few bullet points here and there, and then read whatever we have to from the index cards. it’s in the rubric.” you explained to your partner, pointing to the rubric that sat at the edge of the table between you and him.

jungkook nodded in understanding. “do you think we’ll be finished early?”

you shrugged. “i don’t know.”

soon, you and jungkook packed everything up in the library. it was getting late and you still had homework to do at home. you were walking away with your backpack when jungkook called your name. “aren’t you going to say goodbye?” he asked, a small, sideways-looking smile on his face.

you were brought out of a small trance. “oh, yeah. sorry.” you waved, faking a smile. “goodbye!”

jungkook waved too and heading a separate way. his footsteps faded out after a while.

for some reason, after you mentioned that you had to get home, your chest felt heavier. you loved going home normally, but today it was like you… like you wanted to stay in the library.

you shook your head. you weren’t thinking clearly, at least that’s what you told yourself.

you felt lonely, that all you’ve been feeling recently. and as the days go by, the feeling in your chest only grew heavier and hurt you more. you missed your other friends, whom you haven’t had the chance to see all that much because of you guys being in different classes and because of the project. you guys had grown apart slightly, and it was bad enough that you were insecure and had anxiety about being left alone without anybody by your side. you often questioned whether they missed you too or had become better friends amongst themselves rather than with you. all of this was messing with your head. and it significantly brought down your mood.

being around jungkook, however, you felt wanted, needed. of course it was only because of the project, but being around jungkook brought up your mood. you temporarily forgot about all the things happening in you life, all the negative things.

you sighed, pushing away the rest of your thinking. you decided to put in your earbuds and listen to music to distract yourself. then, you began walking home.

----

it was friday, a few days later. you woke up with an idea in your head. after having been thinking about jungkook, and then your own rather distant friends for the past few days, you thought that you would try to talk to them after school. you would do it before school, but they hardly showed up as early as you did in the mornings. they even sometimes come to school just before first period started.

you got dressed and ate breakfast with your family. you were slightly excited, and anticipated talking to your friends again, although you also were extremely nervous.

you and your friends used to be in the same classes, that’s how you guys met. but then a teacher came up to you, telling you that you had been showing remarkable grades and improvement, and asked if you wanted to be moved to a higher level class. you agreed, although sometimes you wished you hadn’t.

you went about your day as normal. often times you would glance at your presentation partner during class. you had started to picture yourself talking to him and laughing, the feeling it would bring you. you would feel included. but it was a silly picture.

after school, you watched as jungkook and his friends left the classroom and began walking to their practice room. you headed in the separate direction, where your friends liked to hangout at. you heard their voices before you could round the corner.

“are you guys hungry?” one asked.

“i want ramen.”

“that sounds so good. let’s also go shopping.”

finally, after a deep breath, you stepped into the hallway, a small smile on your face. they saw you and exchanged glances. “oh, y/n.” minhee, one of your friends, said.

“long time no see, guys.” you said with a nervous laugh. “how have you guys been?”

yeeun replied, “good. you?”

“good. i was wondering if you guys wanted to hangout, since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

they exchanged glances again, and your heart sunk down to the pits of your stomach. your smile dropped at their expressions.

“um, sorry y/n. but we kinda already has plans.” minhee explained.

you had heard them just talk about it, so they were lying to you. they didn’t want you to come.

“oh, okay.”

the third friend, who hadn’t said a word, met your eyes with concerned and sad eyes. she was the one you were closest to. her name was lina, and she was the nicest to you. “we’re really sorry, y/n. maybe next time.”

you nodded and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. they walked around you, heading towards the doors. lina spared a longing glance at you before hurrying around.

after they left you wandered down the hall. you wanted to look for a bathroom so that you could hide and cry and scream all you want. you don’t know why your feet didn’t take you home. perhaps you thought that you wouldn’t make it. you would breakdown in the middle of the sidewalk. or maybe it was that your parents would question why you had been crying. and you didn’t feel like talking to anybody about anything.

you soon began to run, hurry to some bathroom. it wasn’t long, however, before the tears fell down your face, blurring your vision. before you could even register what was happening, you were on the ground. you knees erupted into pain, and your hands burned and ached. you had tripped somehow and your hands and knees caught you.

finally, you gave up. you just cried there, your head hanging low. you didn’t know where you were in the school, or if there were other students nearby.

a few minutes passed when suddenly your heard your name. it was deep, and it sounded like an distant echo in your head. then there were hands grabbing your shoulders and forcing your head up. that’s when you caught a glimpse of them, or him. it was jungkook.

his eyes were wide, and scanning every inch of your body before coming to your face. he was very confused and worried, but why should he be worried. you and him weren’t friends. you and him were simply partners.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, “tell me.” he sounded urgent.

you shook your head. “just go to practice.”

“no,” he replied sternly.

you pushed his arms off, feeling a wave of anger rush over you. “we’re not even friends.”

jungkook was hurt by that statement. just from this past week, he felt closer to you. you and him had talked for hours and worked for hours on the presentation. he thought that at this point, you and him were friends.

jungkook tried not to take it personally. you were a mess and not thinking straight.

quickly, before you could stand up and leave, jungkook wrapped his arms around you. he leaned against the wall, allowing you to lean on him. your face was pressed into his collarbone just underneath his jaw. jungkook was warm and comforting. being hugged as tightly as he was hugging you was definitely something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. you needed this warmth, this security. it wasn’t long before you felt yourself calming down and giving in.

jungkook wasn’t worried in the slightest about practice. he had been in the room around warming up when jimin burst into the room as if he was running from something. instead, he had told jungkook that he saw his partner, you, trip and fall by the bathrooms near the practice room. immediately, jungkook ran out and searched for you.

jungkook didn’t want to rush you or feel any discomfort. instead, he held you close and told himself that he would wait patiently for when you were ready to talk to him. even if you never intend to, he would be fine with that.

you sniffed, trying to keep from getting anymore snot or tears onto his shirt. “i’m sorry.” you whispered.

he shook his head, “no, it’s okay. don’t feel sorry.”

you sighed. “i didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

jungkook smile slightly. he adjusted his head on top of you, pulling you closer. you sighed, feeling tired suddenly. “don’t worry.” then he paused. “do you want to talk about it?”

you didn’t say anything. you wondered if you should tell him what you were feeling, why you were feeling it. you had only really known him for a week. was it weird that you felt so close and comfortable with him?

“i’ve just been feeling so lonely recently. like, i don’t have anyone that i can share my problems with, or have a shoulder to cry on.” you laugh at the small irony from this situation. “i’m not close to anybody. i am always the friend that id a tag-along or a burden, like i am intruding on everyone, like i annoy everyone...” the heavy feeling came back in your chest, and you felt tears wanting to spill again.

jungkook felt slightly guilty. he didn’t like that you were feeling so much pain from this. it made him want to be there for you.

“you don’t have to be alone anymore.” jungkook spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. his cheeks burned as he spoke, but the words were all true. “y/n, i can be the shoulder that you can cry on, i can be the person you confide in.”

your eyes widen slightly. you pushed yourself up, wanting to see jungkook and look into his eyes. you were surprised by his sincerity, a huge contrast to how he acted when you and him were first partnered up. then again, you acted similar. “jungkook…” your cheeks mirrored his own. “you don’t have to…”

he smiled. it was a warm smile, one that made your insides flip, your heart to race. “i want to be there for you.”

----

things drastically changed between you and jungkook after that moment. it was something that you felt slightly ashamed or embarrassed about, but jungkook made sure that you were never uncomfortable around him.

the saturday after your breakdown, he texted you that morning. he asked if you were okay, and if you slept well. you weren’t used to it, but it was making you happier. someone genuinely cared about you and your wellbeing.

on sunday, he asked if you wanted to go somewhere with him to work on the presentation. you agreed. as you got ready for the hangout, you found yourself trying to make yourself look more presentable than usual. you put on your cutest outfit and even applied some makeup. you were feeling yourself once again, and your mood wasn’t bringing you down. jungkook was really something…

you brought a small backpack with your laptop and notes to the cafe that jungkook had told you to meet at. you were ten minutes early, but you were even more surprised to see jungkook already there. he looked surprised but started to smile. you laughed, “you’re here early.”

“so are you!”

you and him ordered drinks and breakfast items, talked a bit, and then got started on the presentation. you and jungkook decided to divide all the slides up. you and him would present all the slides that you and him researched and worked on.

there was something different between you and jungkook. the atmosphere between and around you was different. you felt closer to jungkook, you felt like you and him had been friends for years, when it has only been a week. it was an odd, but good feeling.

----

it was the day of the presentations. you and jungkook were set to go first. you and jungkook decided to meet before school to run through it again. you weren’t exactly the best at standing in front of a class and speaking. if anything, public speaking was your enemy.

jungkook laughed a bit as you paced around the table you and jungkook picked in the library. you were complaining about how public speaking was overrated and stupid. “i just don’t see the point. it’s stupid, absolutely stupid. who in there right mind thought ‘ah, let’s make students suffer?’”

jungkook laughed, “y/n, i’m sure the purpose is to get people like you comfortable with public speaking. it’s supposed to bring people out of their comfort zones.”

jungkook, obviously, wasn’t nervous.

you glared at him. “well, i happen to like my comfort zone. it’s comfortable.”

jungkook shook his head, laughing at you. “then let’s go over it one more time.”

you stomped over back to your chair and sat down. your laptop was open between you and jungkook, the screen showing the title slide of your presentation, labelled ancient egypt. jungkook would be leading, since he was much more comfortable with speaking in front of twenty or more students.

he read off of his index cards, greeting the class, introducing their topic, and then beginning with his first slide. you and him popcorned back and forth between each slide, presenting the information. everything was perfect, the best that it could be, but not even the practice run could ease your anxiety.

you sighed, setting down your index cards. you then glanced at the clock on the wall across the library. you had only a few minutes before the bell would ring, alerting everyone that they had five minutes to get to class.

jungkook flashed you his goofy smile. you stared at him. “what?”

he shrugged and looked away with a blush in his cheeks.

you eyed him carefully. “what?” you repeated, not caring about how the tone of your voice increased in an octave or two.

he laughed, shaking his head. his cheek grew even redder. “nothing!”

you groaned. “jungkook!”

suddenly the librarian glanced in your direction and let out a big shh!. when she turned away, you stuck your tongue out. then you began packing up everything from the table. “well,” you spoke quietly, “i guess we should head to class.”

----

the presentation went smoothly. you prayed that the students thought that you looked confident, that the teacher didn’t think you looked nervous. she would dock off a few points for not seeming confident, as if you haven’t practiced presenting multiple times. your hands were shaking the entire time as you read off of the index cards, and you were pretty sure your voice was shaky. you stuttered over words a lot too, but every time you messed up and glanced at jungkook, he flashed a smile, one that told you that you were doing great and to keep going.

having jungkook made things better for you. it was like him being by your side made you more confident. it was a weird feeling. you never thought that you and jungkook could ever be friends. just last week, you and him were hating on each other.

but now, perhaps there was something deeper, something more.

after school, just after the bell rang, jungkook came up to your desk and sat on the edge of it. “we got an a!” he said excitedly.

you grinned, feeling extremely proud of yourself.

you glanced at the students leaving the classroom as you laughed to yourself. “i was basically nervous for no reason.”

jungkook smiled at you, that beautiful smile of his. it made you insides twist and knot. “i told you that you would do well.”

“you did. you did.”

there was a pause, a silence that followed. it was a bit awkward, and jungkook wouldn’t meet your eyes. you didn’t know why he was chilling on your desk, especially since the classroom was now empty. everyone else were going home. why had he stayed behind? you also didn’t want him to leave.

“so, uh, how have you been feeling recently?” he asked shyly, his cheeks looking like two bright red cherries.

you knew he was silently hinting at the breakdown you had in front of him last week. since then, jungkook had included you. he’d become a close friend of yours. you even became friends with his friends. you felt wanted again, and because of that, your mood had gotten better. you couldn’t be anymore grateful.

your cheeks mimicked his own as you replied, “i’ve been good, a lot better.”

“do you want to hang out?” he suddenly asked, his words on the verge of stumbling over each other.

you stared into his intense gaze. his dark brown eyes looked urgent and were full of anticipation. he was nervous you could tell.

“right now?”

“or later. whenever.”

you laughed, adoring his shyness. “of course. right now is fine.”

he grinned and stood up from your desk. “yes!” he yelled triumphantly. “let’s go!”

you laughed and hurriedly packed up your things before following him out of the classroom. the school was almost deserted, so it was a lot of fun running down the hallway behind jungkook, laughing. you were out of breath, and jungkook was teasing you about needing to run more.

----

after hanging out with jungkook the entirety of the afternoon, it soon became very late. time really flew. it was getting dark outside when you and jungkook were walking to your house. you and him were playfully arguing about how to play uno, specifically whether certain rules were allowed or not.

“no, i’ve played where you could stack plus twos and plus fours.”

“but that’s illegal!” he argued, “they end up with millions of cards.”

you laughed. “but that’s the point!”

“no! that’s rude.”

you broke into a laugh, having to stop in the middle of the sidewalk to double over and hold you stomach. jungkook watched you with a sweet, fond smile. he shook his head, walking away from you.

“wait!” you called, trying to catch up, “don’t leave me.” you ran up to him and collided into his back, wrapped your arms around his thin, muscular torso. he stumbled forward.

“y/n!”

you pulled away laughing. jungkook then, out of nowhere, grabbed your hand, walking along the sidewalk. “i won’t leave you behind.” he said.

you were shocked. he didn’t even realize that he had done so. it was as if he’s done this multiple times. meanwhile, you were trying not to make a big deal out of it. your heart was racing, practically jumping out of your chest. and your stomach felt queasy. jungkook’s hand was so warm and comforting. you were already addicted to him.

suddenly, jungkook looked at you, noticing your silence. he blushed, nearly jumping a foot away from you and releasing your hand. and your heart dropped down, feeling heavy.

you stared at him, confused, speechless.

“s-sorry. i didn’t mean to make you comfortable.” he hurried to say.

you shook your head. your voice was quiet when you spoke. “no, i liked it. it’s just i was surprised.”

jungkook stared at you. it was his turn to be surprised. “really?”

you nodded, this time holding your hand out to him. you smiled.

jungkook blushed once again before hesitantly reaching for your hand and holding it gently, as if it were made of glass and would break if he held it too tightly. you grinned happily, trying to focus your attention on the warmth and softness of his hand.

while staring at the conjoined pair of hairs, jungkook stepped closer to you. you looked up at him, blushing crazily. the butterflies were there again. you smiled, “what?”

he didn’t say anything. instead, he leaned down and pecked your cheek. he pulled away quickly, as if he was scared to do anything more. “you missed.” you whispered shyly, looking down.

after hearing those words, jungkook grabbed your cheeks, forcing you to tilt your head back. then, he kissed your lips. it was rather short, but you knew that there would be more to come. when he pulled away, he was grinning. “better?”

“yes.”

#btsboulangerie #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts one shot #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts angst #bts au #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook one shot #kpop

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shitandramblings · 5 years

Text

Bank Hours

Summary: 2 weeks holiday with no work while your boyfriend is in town, but you can’t avoid going in anyway.

Genre: Romance, Smut, Short (?) Story,

Characters: Taeyong x Fem Reader

Rating / Warning : Adult, Sex, Light Swearing

Word Count: 4222 (It was supposed to be short!)

A/N: First real fic I’ve written in many years. I have been missing fics with a story component and also some romance rather than hard smut. (not that I am opposed I just wanted this to be something a bit different)

When you open your eyes the clock beside your bed says 5:00 am. The room is filled with the soft light that happens just after sunrise in summer. You can hear the birds just starting their morning song. Looking over at the man snoring softly on the other side of the bed you figure he’ll be down for at least another 6 hours. Taeyong looked absolutely beat the night before when you picked him up at the small airport in your town. He looks so peaceful and sweet with that little smile he often has on his face while sleeping. It’s hard to leave but you slide quietly out of the bed and head downstairs to get dressed. You have 2 weeks with your boyfriend and while you had both agreed no work you have a few things to finish off at the bank before you could fully start your holiday.

Getting dressed quickly in shorts and a tank you then slip on your flip flops. You write a note on the chalkboard you keep on the kitchen cupboard for notes and shopping lists, just in case he wakes while your gone. “Went to the grocery store for coffee and muffins, be back soon.” It’s only a little lie, you will pick some up on your way back from the branch after you’re done there.

When you get to work all the lights are off as they should be on a Saturday morning. You get your keys out and go in. It’s a familiar routine letting yourself into the branch, disarming the alarm and going to your office. You like the quiet of the branch when its closed and the fluorescents are off. The only light coming in is the little bit that makes it past the closed blinds in your office and through the back windows. You start your computer up and go to check the rest of the branch to make sure that no one is there that shouldn’t be. On your way back upstairs after checking out the lunchroom and making a cup of tea, you stop to look out the back windows and their view of the Salish Sea. Your old office used to have this view but when you received the promotion to Branch Manager you had to move to the larger office on the street side at the front of the branch. You miss the view of the sun setting behind Vancouver Island during the summer, the ferries and cruise ships going past, and of the winter storms approaching from over the water.

You finish your check and go back to your office to see if your computer is ready. While its finishing loading the last programs, you pull your speaker out of your bag. The other thing you like about being at work by yourself is that unless you are on the phone you can play your music as loud as you want. As the first song starts you get down to business. Time to tackle the few reports remaining so your Assistant Branch Manager doesn’t quit while your away. Since you’re planning on disappearing for 2 weeks the least you can do is make it as easy as you can for her.

You get started checking the numbers for a major report due at the end of this quarter. You realize you’ve been fighting with the spreadsheet for 2 hours. You get up to go down to the staff room and refill your tea. As you come up the stairs one of your favorite songs is blasting from your office. You can’t help but sing and dance along not really paying attention to anything and nearly spilling hot tea on your hand. When you get into your office you put your tea down on the desk and finish the dance. But the spread sheet is not going to fill itself in and you still have a few tasks left to do before you head home. A short while later and your filling in the last numbers that were escaping you. As the song changes from Enter Sandman to Long Flight you can’t help but keep singing along. The music pauses for a second as the text notification comes over the speaker. You save your work happy that it’s done and look at your phone to see who could possibly be messaging you at 8am on a sunny Saturday morning. Its from Tae and only says

“You’re not at the store.” Damn it, busted you think.

“Why would you think that?” you answer.

“The grocery stores don’t open until 9am here, your car is parked outside and anyone using the ATM can hear you singing my music.” After locking your computer, you leave your office to look out to the ATM lobby and sure enough there he is leaning against the front door wagging a finger at you. You open the door to let him in. After locking the door behind him he follows you back to your office.

“I thought you said no working while we were together?” he asks you after flopping down on the couch in your office. He doesn’t sound annoyed at you, just exasperated and resigned.

“I just have to finish a couple of reports I didn’t get done Friday night before I picked you up and call a credit officer about a deal for one of my lenders. If we can get this deal done in time it will make sure the branch ends the quarter and most likely the year at the top of our market. But I need to impress upon the credit officer that time is of the essence.“ You explain to him as you sit back at your desk.

“I’ll just sit here and watch you work then.” He says as he leans back on the couch. You look over at him knowing that he means to do just that. You get up and go over to him,

“I think you should walk that pretty ass back home or I won’t get the half dozen pain au chocolat I was planning on grabbing at the bakery.” You say as you reach for his hands to try and pull him up. He easily pulls you onto his lap instead.

“Well this is much more like I was thinking.” He smiles at you and kisses you deeply. You push him away after a bit and move to sit beside him while lightly punching his chest.

“Tae I’m dealing with client and bank information here. You can’t be here while I’m working with this. That would be a huge privacy breach. And no office nookie! I need to be able to work here.” You tell him sternly as he starts trying to run his hands under your shirt.

“So, what can I do to make sure you don’t find just one more task that needs doing if I’m not allowed to be here to keep you honest? I know you. You can always find just one more task that is absolutely critical and I’m going to be selfish. I want to spend this time with you.” He says while you keep slapping at his hands.

“How about this? You can go sit in the staff room downstairs. There are still some pastries in a Tupperware from Fridays coffee, the tea drawer is full and we just refilled the nespresso selection. The couch is more comfortable there and the TV has Netflix. I promise I have one 30 min task and the call to the credit officer. I don’t think it will take much more to than an hour, hour and half.” You offer this compromise to him. He gives you one of those puppy faces that melts your heart, and damn it he knows he’s doing it.

“Okay I’ll take an hour and half being bored in the basement of a bank but I’m setting a timer. In 90 minutes, your mine for the next 2 weeks.” He stands up and before you can get yourself up, he grabs your hands and pulls you into his arms. He’s kissing you and then nibbling on your ear, neck and jaw. You find yourself clinging tighter to him before returning the kiss and nipping at his lower lip. When you break apart, he starts to head out of your office, but then he turns back and says to you, “In 1.5 hours I get to finish that kiss.” You can only describe his tone as both promise and threat. And you can’t wait for it.

You sit down at your computer and try to calm yourself. The merest touch from Tae has your juices flowing and he knew just what he was doing right now. How the hell are you supposed to argue with one of the pickiest credit officers in western Canada knowing that your boyfriend is just downstairs and apparently fully recovered from all the travel yesterday. You try not to think about just how hard he felt through the light shorts you are wearing when he pulled you into his lap. About how good nibbling and nipping at his jaw and neck make you feel. Especially when he starts making those low groans and his breathing becomes all ragged. You take a moment to breathe a little before unlocking your computer and dragging a file out of the cabinet for the next task. Your ready to finish this and really start your holiday.

A little less than 90 minutes later you have finished 2 pressing tasks and sent an email to your lender regarding her deal. You feel elated and accomplished as you log off your terminal and lock your cabinets. Not only did you finish what you needed to, but you got an extra one done that your Assistant Manager was not expecting you to do and you knew she was dreading. The email that you just sent to your lender was going to make her so happy when she read it on Monday. Not only did you get the exceptions that you needed for the deal, but you and the credit officer worked to get all the terms and conditions satisfied. The only thing left was signing with a lawyer and letting your colleague wrap up this deal. You gather your bag and put your speaker in it still playing softly and grab your empty teacup before heading downstairs. Tae would also be pleasantly surprised you got done before you said. As you round the corner to the staff room you don’t hear the TV as you expected. When you come through the door you look past the lunch table to the couch in the corner and smile. Tae is lying there on his left side with his hand under his head and his right hand tucked over his left shoulder. The fuzzy blanket that your staff keep here for cuddling under on cold winter days during their lunches because the heating sucks is tucked up under his chin. You smile at him sleeping soundly and quietly put your mug in the dishwasher.

You hesitate for a moment over waking him or letting him sleep. Maybe he’s not as recovered from jet lag as he seemed earlier. While more comfortable than the couch in your office this one is too small for your lanky boyfriend to be comfortable on for very long. Putting your bag down in the table you crouch near his head. You put a hand on his shoulder and give him a kiss.

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” You say to him while shaking him gently. You see him start to rouse. He peeks his eyes open and tries to stretch a bit. “I got all my work done, time for us to leave.” He reaches out and pulls you into a kiss. This over balances you a bit and you fall forward. He sits up as you right yourself and draws you back in. Your hands automatically go around his neck and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He helps you up onto the couch while never taking his soft lips off you. He slides his hands up your back under your tank top and chuckles while your kissing.

“What’s so funny?” you ask him as you move to get his earlobe between your teeth.

“I was right,” he answers you once you stop nibbling on his ear and he can focus again. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“Mmhm, didn’t want to wake you this morning rooting through my drawers for one. And you were supposed to be sleeping still when I got home.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining, quite the opposite, I find it rather hot.” He says as he brings his hands around to cup both of your breasts and starts to rub your nipples with his thumbs. Now your really turned on yourself. You can feel it gathering in your hips and spreading out over your upper legs and your chest. You lean back against the arm of the couch as he trails kisses and nibbles down your throat and chest. As he’s trying to lift your tank top over your head you come back to yourself a little bit.

“Um, Tae, I think I said no office nookie.”

“But this isn’t your office.” He points out as you help him take your shirt off.

“No, you’re right it isn’t but I do have to eat lunch down here everyday and so do my staff.”

But you’re not really concerned. The way his hard on is pressing into you and how wet you are there is no way either of you are leaving this bank until you’re both completely satisfied. And better here than in your office where someone might notice from the sidewalk or in your car, as you don’t think either of you would make the 5 min drive back home.

“Well I guess I can just sit on the other couch and try not to smile too hard at lunch time.” You tell him as you drag him up onto you and reach into his loose shorts. Besides your damn sure your assistant manager has had at least her last 2 boyfriends here and possibly in other places in your branch as well. As you move to cup his balls and cock, he moans loudly. He’s already very hard and starting to drip with precum. You slide his foreskin back to reveal his sensitive head. Using you thumb while gripping his dick you lightly spread the slickness over it. A shudder runs through him as he gives a little grunt. He starts rolling one nipple between the thumb and finger of one hand while his mouth licks and nips at the other. You momentarily have to stop your ministrations on his cock as this feels so good. That gives him a chance to get in your shorts. His fingers slide past you lips and his thumb finds your already engorged clit. Slow lazy circles of his thumb have you arching you’re back and making noises in your throat.

“Mm so wet already. It’s like you missed me or something. Or does running a bank do this to you?” He asks while he slips one finger into your heat.

“Definitely not the bank!” You answer back between gasps. You pull your hand out of his shorts and start grabbing at the hem of the T-shirt he’s wearing.

“Take this damn thing off” you grunt at him “I want to feel your skin on mine.” He needs to remove his hand from your shorts to accomplish this and you have a moment of regret for your request. As his thumb leaves your clit and he slowly removes the digit that was quite effectively fucking you the regret grows but then his shirt is off and he’s right there in front of you. Not to toned or too soft. His shorts riding low enough you can see the edge of hair peeking out.

“Your turn to lie back.” You say to him as you gently push against his chest. One of your hands start circling one of his nipples and his breath starts hitching. He lays back for you as you move up over him. Your other hand catches his waistband and tugs his shorts down to his thighs. He looks down his chest at you as move higher up his legs and he leans his head back expectantly. You go right past his cock and start nibbling and sucking at his other nipple. You hear a sharp inhale as he opens one eye too look at you.

“Guess I can still surprise you” you say as you lick his nipple lightly. You kiss your way up his chest to his throat. More nibbles and kisses there. Past his jaw with a few nips and now a soft moan right in his ear. He lets out another low moan when you do this, and his hips buck upwards. You drop the hand that was flicking his nipple to his dick as you move from his ear across his jaw to nip at that full lower lip. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand. With one last kiss that has you crushing your lips against his and sucking his tongue you suddenly move down to his cock and go down hard. He mages to gasp out “still surprising me” before he lapses back into incoherent mumbles, groans and gasps. You can feel just how wet you are. Your underwear sticking to yourself. Being able to do this to him gets you going so much. As you move up and down his shaft with hand and mouth you can feel him reaching for you. He always thinks he needs to give back what he’s getting right away.

“Nope” you say to him saucily with his dick still in your mouth and slowly pumping the shaft. “You just lie back and enjoy. Don’t worry about me now, we’ll get to that later. This is for you.” You turn back to his cock as he decides to listen to what you said. You continue to slowly stroke him while you use your tongue to lick around the edge of his soft glistening head. As you lick you also stroke the frenulum underneath. That gets a grunt of approval. Quickly you wrap your lips around his length and start sucking with much enthusiasm. He puts one hand by his waist and the other goes to your shoulder. He knows your not a fan of having your head grabbed so he uses his hips and his grip on your shoulder to help you set the pace. When you feel him start to stiffen everywhere and he’s no longer leading you know he’s close. You slow it down and release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and much drool. The hand that was stoking him moves down to fondle his balls before going past to rub his taint. You can feel how hard he is still even right to the root.

“How do you always know when I’m at the brink but not so far gone that it hurts when you stop?” He says to once he can speak again. “How many times have you taken me there to just bring me back and do it again? God your so good. But now I think its my turn to return the favor.”

“Please do.” you say to him. He moves so he’s kneeling on the floor and scoots your ass to the front of the couch. He then pulls you shorts and underwear off one leg. You lost your flip flops at some point, but they can’t have gone far. He nudges your thighs apart with kisses. You are more than happy to open wide to him. His breathe is very warm on your clit as he moves in to start sucking. You feel his tongue flicking over as he applies light pressure. You drop your head back and let him go. You can feel the heat starting to concentrate in your hips as everything else gets all tingly.

“Oh god you taste so good. And still so wet, I’ll have to let you suck dick more if it does this to you!” He says to you as he comes up for air. He keeps up the motion on your now very swollen and sensitive bud. You roll your hips into his motions. Your coming so close to the brink yourself but you think in the back of your mind that he must be feeling it bending down to reach you on the couch.

“Gods Tae your so good but I need you now. I need to feel you in me when you go over.”

After some rearranging you end up changing places once again but this time your riding him while he’s seated. You lower yourself fully onto his cock and both of you moan as you take him all the way.

“Fast, slow, something in-between?” you ask him while rolling your hips and trying to find just the right spot on his pelvis to create the most friction on your clit. He crushes his mouth to yours while grabbing your hips to set a quicker pace. Both of your hands roam all over each other as you ride him as fast as you can.

“Almost, almost, fuck, now, nownownow.” He gasps in your ear as you feel him go ridged under you and then his load being released as he crosses over. You keep going chasing that same release and soon you feel your own center tighten completely and you go over as well. You move for a few more strokes to capture the last few waves that have you both shuddering.

You collapse onto his chest and he wraps his arms around you. Both of you sit there for a few moments catching your breath and letting your heart rates settle a bit before you gingerly get up and grab a fresh tea towel from the package on the lunchroom counter. “I was wondering why the laundry service leaves us 50 tea towels for 2 weeks, when we have a dishwasher and a staff of 10.” You joke as you dampen one end and go back to clean him and yourself up. You both finish getting re dressed and you toss the used towel in the laundry bag. Good thing linen service is tomorrow you think to yourself.

There is not much space for a post coital cuddle as you usually do but then sex in a semi public place is also not something you usually do. He comes up behind you wraps you in hug while leaning his head down on your shoulder.

“I love you so much. I hope you know that it’s not just the awesome sex, I do love you.” He says into your ear while squeezing you tighter. You turn around in his hug and wrap your arms around his waist while leaning your head on his chest.

“Yeah I know. I love you too. And the mind-blowing sex doesn’t hurt either.” You laugh.

You go up the stairs hand in hand laughing together. “I’m going to lock the door after you go into the ATM lobby then set the alarm and come meet you back at the door.” You say to him has you give him a kiss and push him out the door.

“I’ll just wait here then. No more working.” He says to you as you lock the door behind him. As your crossing the branch while the alarm gives its arming beeps you hear Baby Don’t Stop comes on your speaker again. You smile and think at least this time you don’t have a cup of tea in your hand as you let yourself out and lock the door behind you.

After getting into the car Tae turns to you when he realizes what song is coming out of your bag. “One of these days I’ll teach you the proper choreo for that one as I don’t remember a cup of hot tea being involved. And your pronunciation still sucks.” He teases you.

“Shit you saw and heard that? How long were you standing there before you texted me?” You ask feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Long enough but then you seemed to be concentrating on something important after your dance break. I couldn’t see much once you moved into your office because of the blinds. It was only about 10 minutes really.” He says back to you with a smile.

You think about this. “Okay non apology accepted. And as for my shit pronunciation, you sing something in French and then we can talk.” You tease him right back.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, çe soir?” He sings back to with a wink and to be honest pretty damn good pronunciation. You turn the car onto the road and head up the hill to the grocery store while laughing.

“Not fair! That’s a 20 year old song with one line that everyone knows.” He just looks at you and smiles. This is going to be a good 2 weeks you think as you pull into the grocery store parking lot while you laugh and joke with each other.

#nct 127 #taeyong #taeyong smut #nct smut #nct127 smut #nct u smut #nct romance #nct 127 romance #nct #nct taeyong

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adamdriverwrites · 5 years

Text

☾ || Carpe Noctem || ☽

Plot summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au ft. Kylo Ren. Based off this plot bunny (x)

Warnings: extreme violence, swearing, sexual themes, non consensual sexual violence, drug use and other explicit themes.

Word count: 772

A/N: this is my new story, i’m super excited to be delving into this, i’m a huge kylo fan. it will be multiple chapters, i already have 10k written out lol. let me know what you think!

Teaser: chapter one coming soon!

You awoke to your phone in the middle of the night. Hand flying out across the bed, lazily trying to find the thing without having to open your eyes. Deft fingers grasped the glass screen, and your eyes opened a minuscule amount to peer at the number.

You shot out of bed, hazy sleepiness instantly squashed at seeing your Dad’s number. He never called you like this. Usually a message would be sent beforehand, organizing a specific time every couple of months where he would phone and ask how you were, ask what you needed, before saying goodbye. You spent a second contemplating whether to screen the call and blame it on the time difference before swiping to accept, out of morbid curiosity if anything else.

“Dad?”

There was a loud sigh, and you heard noises on his end of the line. Something hitting a hard surface, papers shuffling on his desk.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, more so than usual. “I know it’s late but... I’ve got some bad news.”

He never told you any news, good or bad. About the family business- though you could understand that. You were in a woman living in a mans world, full of crime and violence, and he was old school. Still slightly misogynistic.

“What’s wrong?” You sat up in bed, sheets pooling at your hips.

“It’s Mallory… she uh,” another loud sigh came from his end of the line and you swore you heard his voice break a little. “She passed away two days ago.”

The information hit you like a tonne of bricks. You were speechless. Silence bred by shock and disbelief. You had talked to her last week. She was busy with work, and her new boyfriend. Keeping it a secret from Dad, she had said. He wouldn't have approved, and you were halfway across the world- you didn’t give a shit about some guy. Only her.

She was the only one of your family you talked to regularly. She visited in the summer, for Christmas, your birthday. She was the only one who made an effort to keep in touch with you, the only one that loved you enough to stay in touch even when you were trying so hard to pull away from everyone else.

“What?” Your voice came out in a whimper. “H-how? What happened?”

“They think it was a drug overdose but…” your father bit out. “They aren't sure.”

“But she’s been clean for months.” You reasoned with him. Whenever you two talked, you would listen intently. She would tell you everything about her life, all her deepest darkest secrets, secrets her friends or your family wouldn't understand. But you never judged her, and that's what she said she loved about you. When she relapsed, or was dating a new guy, you were always there offering support and rationality and never any judgement. Who were you to judge anyway? You had made mistakes, and you couldn’t judge someone as perfect as Mallory. She was sweet, kind, and honest (mostly).

You were about to start hyperventilating, shock settling in and making you feel things you swore you hadn’t felt in a very long time. Always relying on logic and reason to maintain calmness in most situations was a skill you had suddenly lost. “When? Two days?” You couldn't believe it took him that long to ring you.

“She moved back into the city, into the penthouse, we hadn't heard from her in a few days and I sent the boys to go check on her and…”

“Fuck.” Your head fell into your hands and you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down. You stood from your bed, feet padding against the cold marble floor in your apartment. Despite the winter chill, you felt hot. Like you were going to be sick. Your throat tightened and you knew what was coming.

“The funeral is on Friday. I bought you a ticket, sent it to your email… I know it’s been a while but if you wanted to come home and-”

He could barely finish the sentence before you butted in. “Y-yeah. Ill be there.” You felt a tear escape the corner of your eye and your lower lip trembled. “Dad, I gotta go. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn't wait for a reply, you finished the call, bursting into tears and throwing your phone on your bed.

You had prided yourself on being composed, but as you sank to the floor and broke down in the pitch black of your apartment, you didn't care about how much of a mess you were. You just wanted Mallory back.

#kylo ren #adam driver #kylo ren x reader #kylo au #kylo x reader #adam driver x reader #reader insert #kylo ren fanfiction #adam driver fanfiction #kylo x you #kylo ren x you #adam driver x you #kylo ren imagine #star wars fanfiction #bodyguard!au #bodyguard!kylo #carpe noctem

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

Cohabitation

TMA fic inspired by real events. Statement of Quinn Morgan regarding their imaginary roommate.

on AO3

Statement of Quinn Morgan regarding their imaginary roommate. Original statement given September 13, 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

It all started as something of a joke, really. I’d call it an inside joke, but can you really call it that when you’re the only one in on it? I never thought it’d get so out of hand but, well, here we are.

See, my freshman year in college--university, I guess you’d call it?--my original roommate moved out to room with one of her friends instead. Not a big loss, really, she was always up later than me and was way more into the party scene than I’d ever be. Anyway, housing said they’d replace her, but spring semester came and went without me getting a roommate, which was fine by me. I liked the peace and quiet, liked having the extra space to myself, liked being able to come and go as I pleased.

Sophomore year, though, I knew that would all change. I hadn’t made much in the way of friends in my freshman year, and those I had made were generally male, which. Well. My own gender is more complex than checking off one of the usual two boxes, but to be fair to housing even I hadn’t realized that bit yet. Suffice it to say rooming with any of my guy friends simply wasn’t an option, at least not then and there.

So I went in for a random roommate. Housing said they’d paired me with someone, but didn’t pass along any details besides a phone number that gave me an error message when I tried calling it. Wasn’t sure what to expect when I got back on campus. Honestly, I was kind of scared they’d paired me with some weirdo, even though I suppose by that logic, I’d be “some weirdo” as well.

Whatever I was expecting, though, it wasn’t for move-in day to come and go without my roommate arriving.

I spent a couple days wondering if they’d just missed move-in day somehow, if they’d show up with no notice and start moving things in, but after a week I was starting to doubt that my roommate was ever going to show. I sent housing a vaguely-worded email asking about my roommate, but when they responded asking if there was a problem, I... I didn’t respond. I should have told them the truth of the situation, I suppose, but I figured what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, and I’d enjoy what time I could with the room all to myself.

They stuck a little white-board outside the door of each dorm room for people to write their names, an easy way to introduce yourself to your neighbors, I guess. So I put my name on there--well, my deadname, since I was still using it at the time. And then after a bit of thought, I added the name Heather. I’d never known anyone named Heather, but I’d always thought it was a pretty name, maybe something I’d name a baby girl somewhere down the road. It was a normal enough name, too, one that wouldn’t raise eyebrows or get people asking too many questions. And this way, people passing by my dorm room wouldn’t know that I’d managed to nab a room by myself. Just me and Heather, two ordinary roommates in an ordinary dorm room, nothing to see there, definitely no great conspiracy to be unearthed.

Maybe if I’d stopped there, that’d be all it ever was, just a name on a sign that helped me fool housing into not forcing another roommate on me. But that was just the start of it.

See, I’d always fancied myself a bit of a writer, even though classes freshman year taught me well enough that while I enjoyed it at my own pace, it wasn’t something I’d want to major in, let alone get a career doing. So now that my supposed roommate had a name, I started thinking of her like just another character in one of my stories.

I gave her a full name, one generic enough that it could be the name of someone going to school here--Heather Anne Johnson, I settled on. I decided she’d transferred from another local school, one that some people joked didn’t exist because nobody ever met anyone from there despite them being one town over, though the real explanation was probably just that school being super small compared to us and a lot more religious to boot.

And then I went and made a Facebook profile for her, partly to flesh her out a bit and give me a place to put all these ideas for her I’d come up with, partly so if housing did come snooping around she’d seem more like a real student. The profile picture was a photo of a lilac bush I found on Google, I had “Heather” join the school page and a few others, she even shared a few memes I came across. If you did some research I’m sure you would’ve figured out that her life story only existed through that Facebook page, but at a glance I thought it’d seemed believable enough.

Apparently I was right about that bit, because when I checked on it a week later it had a few friend requests from actual students at my school. I think one of them shared a bio class with me, but I didn’t know any of them super well. I accepted all the requests, though, figured that’d just make the page seem that much more real. I updated it every couple days, too--not on any kind of a schedule, just when I was bored, which was pretty common.

I wasn’t the most social person... I’m still not, I suppose. But when it happened to come up in conversation, I’d tell whoever was asking that I had a roommate, maybe share her name and a few other tidbits about her (I’d decided she had brown hair, was kind of a neat freak, and was majoring in philosophy) if it seemed necessary. It’d all fall apart if anyone visited my dorm room--I hadn’t gone so far as to actually set up the other bed in the room or give “Heather” a separate living space--but nobody ever did. And housing never bothered me again after they responded to that one email of mine, so on that end, it worked just fine, I guess. Nobody suspected that I’d managed to get a room all to myself.

Heather kept getting friend requests from both people I knew and people I didn’t, as I’d post fairly generic status updates and share posts from other students, and at one point I realized my nonexistent roommate had more friends who went to school with me than I did, which... it’s sad, definitely, but I’m not sure whether it says more about how persuasive I was or how little of a social life I had. Probably a little of both.

Then one of my handful of friends from freshman year, Tyson Hunter, asked me about her, a couple weeks after I’d accepted his friend request on her profile. Said Heather had looked sad the last time he’d seen her, and he wanted to make sure she was doing okay.

Now, the one thing I’d never done is posted an actual picture of what Heather was supposed to look like. I’d replaced that lilac bush profile picture with a few other things--rainbows, cartoons, waterfalls, other flowers--but never any of an actual person. I knew I was crossing some lines here, but I wasn’t catfishing anyone at least. So there was no way Tyson could’ve seen what Heather looked like, because she didn’t look like anything, besides the vague descriptions I’d give whenever anyone asked.

Maybe I should’ve told the truth then. Tyson’s a good guy--a smart-ass sometimes, sure, but a nice enough person--and I doubt he’d have ratted me out to housing if I’d just come clean then and there. But now that it came up, I felt kind of weird about having not let him know in the first place, and I didn’t want to just up and confess.

So instead, I just asked some questions, trying not to seem as confused as I really was. What did he mean, “the last time he’d seen her”? When was that? Where was that?

And Tyson said he’d seen her in the halls of the philosophy building the day before, and she kept looking down at the floor and biting her lip, and she looked like she was trying to hold back tears.

I changed the subject after that, because... because it was weird, and because obviously he’d just bumped into some random student who happened to resemble how I’d described Heather and assumed it was her. Which was awkward, given the reality of the situation, and meant that some random brunette had been near tears yesterday, but even if I’d wanted to track down this supposedly-Heather, it’s a big school, that’d take forever. So I tried to just move on and forget about that.

A couple days later another friend of mine, Jack Murphy, said that that roommate of mine, Heather, was, and I quote, “a total hottie”, and was she single, because if so he was interested.

I blurted out that sure, she was single, before actually thinking through my response. I assumed Jack must have mistaken some other student for Heather like Tyson did, and asked where he’d seen her?

Jack’s answer wasn’t as clear as Tyson’s had been. He just said he’d seen her “around” a bunch of times, and that she was cute, that he liked her freckles and her dimples and the way her glasses framed her deep brown eyes. Which... I had decided she had brown eyes, actually, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t mentioned that to anyone because who just casually brings up their roommate’s eye color in a conversation?

So one of my friends was drooling over a girl that he thought was the roommate I didn’t actually have. Great.

I think it was when Jack asked if I could set him up with Heather that I realized I was in way too deep.

I told him I’d talk to her about it, but no promises, and then I went to my dorm room and saw the bare bed next to mine and just... just burst out laughing, because all this was ridiculous, really.

This was all during finals week, by the way, which... probably didn’t help my test scores any, but it did mean winter break was right around the corner, so I just stalled Jack until then, figured I could figure out what to tell him about my roommate that didn’t exist over the break.

That winter break was... intense. It’s when I realized I was nonbinary, for one thing, and when my parents sprung on me that they were getting a divorce, for another. So I didn’t have that much time to think about the whole Heather thing. But the couple of times I checked her Facebook profile, a few people had sent messages about sharing classes with Heather--one from some upper-level philosophy class, one from contemporary world history, and two from intro to psych. All things that were probably the sort of classes she’d take if, you know, she took classes at all.

I ignored the messages, and when winter break was up and I met up with Jack again, I told him I hadn’t had time to talk things over with Heather yet, which, well, technically not a lie, right? Jack gave me a folded-up piece of paper and said to pass it along to Heather, let him know what her reaction was.

I just... I just nodded and went along with it. I didn’t look at the thing. I was sure it was a confession of love, or bad love poetry, or something else of the sort, and I really didn’t want to read any of that. I just tucked the piece of paper into my pocket, and when I got back to my dorm room that night, I chucked it onto the bare, empty bed that would be Heather’s if she existed, before going to sleep.

The next day, after going to classes and eating dinner with Tyson, I noticed that the piece of paper wasn’t where I’d thrown it on the empty bed anymore. After a bit of searching, I found that it hadn’t just fallen off, but had somehow ended up in my garbage bin. I opened it, then, and from what I could make out it was exactly the sort of thing I’d expected, a nicely-worded letter asking one Heather Johnson on a date, but what stood out most was the big X drawn to cover nearly the entire page in what looked like red Sharpie.

All of that’s weird, of course, but the part that stuck out to me was that I didn’t even own a red Sharpie, or a red marker for that matter, just a single black Sharpie and a lot of pens and pencils. I figured the rest could be chalked up to- to sleepwalking, or some sort of mental break, or something, but there was no way I could’ve put that big red X on there.

Things kept getting weirder from there, but from the end of January on it, it kind of starts to blur together in my mind. The Facebook account I’d made for Heather started having friends I didn’t remember adding, even a few that weren’t students at the school I went to. Jack came to me red-faced one evening saying that he’d asked Heather about the note he’d written for her and she’d laughed in his face, and it’d been right in front of the cafeteria so half the school saw. Tyson kept asking me questions about Heather’s new boyfriend. Heather’s Facebook account suddenly said that she had a new boyfriend, which I certainly hadn’t put there. (Aaron, I think his name was? Aaron Masters, maybe? I, I didn’t look into it that closely. Think I was a bit scared to look too close, honestly.) I got a noise complaint from a night I hadn’t even been in my room, since I’d pulled an all-nighter in the library just before a big midterm. My parents asked questions about that nice girl they heard in the background of all my phone calls. I kept finding garbage in my bin that I was sure wasn’t mine, like- like a bag of salt and vinegar chips, when I hate those...

Eventually I just broke down. Jack asked me something about Heather--I don’t even remember what he asked now--and I just snapped at him that Heather wasn’t real, I didn’t have a roommate, I made her up and I didn’t get why everybody was just going along with it so much, so stop asking about my imaginary roommate already!

He’d stared at me for a long minute before just shaking his head and saying that it wasn’t funny, that I could do a lot better than that if I was trying to mess with his head.

I hadn’t even realized it was April Fools’ Day.

I snapped at Tyson the day after, though, and then my parents later that evening, and I think that’s when everybody realized it wasn’t just a joke or a prank or whatever, that something was seriously wrong.

The rest of April was... well. I got pulled out of school, thrown in a psych ward for a bit, and then forced into a lot of therapy when I got home. Because everybody thinks I’m the crazy one here, everybody thinks Heather’s real and I’m the weird one for thinking she’s not. But I swear I’m sane! I mean, I got diagnosed with ADD as a kid, and I’ve kind of suspected I might have some kind of social anxiety for a while now, but nothing where I’d have any sort of break with reality like that.

Heather Anne Johnson was a name I assigned to a roommate I didn’t have. She never existed. Except- except everybody thinks she did, now. Everybody except me, anyway.

I’m taking what I’m calling a gap year, though I think usually that’s for when you do it before college, not right in the middle, but it sounds nice at least. Told my parents I thought backpacking across Europe would be good for me, help me get back in touch with the world around me. And some of that was true, but really I just wanted to put as many miles between me and my old school, between me and Heather, as I could.

I’ve been trying to avoid information about her now, but in the middle of June I tried logging into her old Facebook profile, just for shits and giggles, and I couldn’t. The password I’d used for the account for all those months didn’t work anymore. And my computer had saved it, so I wasn’t just typing it in wrong, either.

And around the end of August I checked her profile, thinking about how it’d been almost a year since Heather first came to be and how much had changed since then, and I saw Heather had posted a status just a few days before saying that she was excited to start her junior year of school and meet her new roommate.

I don’t know what good telling you my story will do. You probably won’t believe it any more than the therapists and psychiatrists all did. But I want it on record somewhere, anyway. Because I keep thinking about that latest status update. Keep thinking that whoever Heather’s new roommate is, they’re in for one hell of a time, if they exist any more than she does.

Keep thinking maybe things could have gone even worse for me than they did, in the end.

I think however this gap year of mine ends, it won’t be with me going back to school there. The last thing I want is to hear about someone else’s run-ins with the roommate I invented.

Statement ends.

#tma #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing #unreality #if you're curious about the rl deets i'm throwing some of them into an endnote on ao3

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