#today I may have just about managed to clearly grasp the fact that I got absolutely nothing to do with how people treat me
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seadem-on · 7 months ago
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cassandrabaresi · 2 years ago
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Educated Youth of Kitchen Goddess in the 1970s
The amount of homework in the evening is not much, Gu Hezhi mainly ordered everyone to thoroughly understand the topics that have been discussed today, and then preview what will be discussed tomorrow. For those who have a bad memory, reviewing is more important than learning. So the evening self-study was harmonious, and no one asked questions at the beginning. After a long time, Gu Hezhi fell asleep on the chair unconsciously. I can't help it. I'm a little sleepy because I'm too full for dinner. It was not until Wen Xiaorou was the first to step out of her seat that she asked a question about the crane. In fact, she almost understood the problem, but there were still some small points left. After all, Gu Hezhi has aho married the princess in the fairy tale. Wen Xiaorou saw that her heart was pounding, but she still did not grasp her hand. She pushed Gu Hezhi to wake up: "Teacher,interactive digital whiteboard, I have a problem." Gu Hezhi was suddenly awakened by Wen Xiaorou, and his heart was reluctant. When he woke up, he didn't pay attention to managing his expression and glanced at Wen Xiaorou unhappily. Gu Hezhi got up very angry, and his eyes were like a few thin knives, which made Wen Xiaorou a little confused. I felt that the beautiful illusion of my prince charming was full of cracks by the eyes that had just come over. The girl did not expect that the little teacher, who had always been gentle today,interactive touch screens education, would suddenly look at her with such an expression. Gu Hezhi's eyes finally focused and saw clearly that it was his student standing next to him. Suddenly feel bad, afraid is just scared her. He quickly adjusted his expression while fretting in his heart. "What's the matter with you?" The patient tnted to the most difficult question above: "I can't do this." Gu Hezhi lowered his head and glanced at it. Then he could not help frowning: "Didn't I talk about this question in the morning?" Wen Xiaorou heard the displeasure in Gu Hezhi's tone and nervously rubbed the corner of her clothes: "I.." I forgot. She was really nervous and her voice was very low, small like a mosquito, interactive whiteboards in the classroom ,75 smart board, delicate and delicate, as if she was going to break at any time and anywhere. Wen Xiaorou looks very good, and she is a little Jasper. Put it in the other people's place, and it may be somewhat pity to see her nervous appearance. Can Gu Hezhi now just wants to throw the paper in front of his eyes. This guy's face is gone. It doesn't matter whether he is male or female, ugly or beautiful. Why does he want to be here with these goldfish who have only seven seconds of memory! Did you forget the ttly put her original calculation steps wrong, resulting in the final result is not right: "This." That's my problem. I can't get it right. Gu Hezhi did not see Wen Xiaorou's Ni Duan and small movements, holding his chin to observe her problem-solving steps: "This step and this step,interactive boards for classrooms, you use a formula wrong, a calculation wrong." Wen Xiaorou saw that Gu Hezhi did not see his careful thinking and breathed a sigh of relief: "Ah, so that's it. I was careless!" Wen Xiaorou hurriedly picked up her pen and began to write and calculate. hsdsmartboard.com
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1rsoldiersince2012 · 2 years ago
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Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)
Words: 4381 (chapter 1)
Summary:
You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case.
Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that?
Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3  
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012
wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012
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1. CLASH IN THE COURT
"Your Honor, objection." You shoot up from your seat, the heavy wooden chair painfully creaks against the floorboards of the courtroom. "Relevance. That has nothing to do with my client," you finish the sentence, holding your breath until the judge slowly nods once. 
Matthew Murdock, your rival of today and the two previous cases, blows an audible raspberry, which you would consider to be very unprofessional in the current situation.
"The judge just nodded. Ask about his relationship with his family better." You hear Foggy Nelson, Murdock's friend and courtroom partner, whispering to a quite pissed-off looking Murdock. You sit down and shuffle through papers for anything that might save your client's ass. And yours too. 
"May I continue my questioning, your Honor?" Murdock asks, fixing his red-tinted glasses. You eye him a little before rolling your eyes. All things that you managed to pull out about the case and your client point towards his innocence, you just can't lose this case. Murdock has beat you twice before, your pride won't simply allow the third time to happen.
"Yes, continue." The judge answers, looking quite bored about this whole thing. If it were not for the jury, you're sure he would've already made a decision. 
"Thank you, your Honor." Murdock stands up again, head tilted to your side a little. Weird, but what do you even know about blind people? Maybe that was his way of focusing on his environment or something.
"C'mon, focus," you mutter to yourself, and impatiently tap your pen on the papers, feeling how your heart beats in your chest.
"Mr Donovan, what was your relationship with your father after your parents divorced?" Murdock asks, walking away from his table, hand grasping his white cane so strong that his knuckles turn white as well. Although in a short moment you manage to see that his knuckles are clearly badly bruised. Blind lawyer got into a fist fight? Interesting. Maybe even more interesting than your own case.
"I saw him only a couple of times since then," your client began but didn't get a chance to finish as Matt interrupted -
"Interestingly enough, they divorced when you were in your 30s already, am I right? The average age of people who decide to get divorced is approximately 30, but your parents were already in their 50s. What actions might have influenced their decision?" 
"Objection hearsay, your Honor!" You shoot up from your chair again, looking at the three men in front of you with a somewhat wild expression. "That has nothing to do with the previously asked question."
"Overruled. Continue Mr Murdock."
You plop down on the chair again, tapping your pen even more aggressively than before. That bastard Murdock is just stalling. He didn't need to state this information about the age of people who divorce, and you were damn sure he just thought of the numbers. Besides, what does the fact that Donovan's parents got divorced when they were fifty-two has anything to do with what he's being accused of? You could feel how another hair on your head turned from brown to gray. It was probably a good idea to start dyeing your hair.
"Thank you, your Honor. Mr Donovan?" Murdock asks again, hinting at the fact that he is not going to repeat his question again. He moves a step closer toward stand where Donovan was sitting, desperately trying to make eye contact with his wife, who was sitting right behind you.
"I never really wanted to know the real reason behind their split, but I guess it was always clear to me that a day like this would come." Donovan answers, eyes following your opponent who was slowly pacing around the little space, sometimes coming closer to you, sometimes closer to him.
In the corner of your eye, you notice Foggy Nelson lean back in his chair and making himself comfortable. Are these two men really that confident in winning the case?
"Why? Or should I ask how? How was it visible that your parents were going to get divorced?" Matt asks, stopping for a mere second before continuing his little walk.
"Well, since I was a kid, I never saw them doing any parent activities together like other parents did. When the circumstances forced them to act like happy spouses, they did it. But I saw - there was no love between them, and it was just a matter of time until the papers were signed." Donovan answers and you clap to him. Internally, obviously.
"And it was no surprise to you when they, people at this solid age of fifty-two, announced their divorce?"
"No. " Donovan answers, not giving an explanation. Smart move. If Murdock wants an explanation, he'll have to ask for it. 
"Mr Donovan, your lawyer has stated that you were visiting the nursing home quite often in the past three months. I have information that after your parents divorced those ten years ago, you continued to be in contact with both of them for a while, until the contact with your father suddenly stopped only months before he was put in the nursing home. Your mother, however, you were visiting regularly. Is that all right?" Matt spills so quickly that your client has to take a moment to fully understand what he just said.
"Uh... Yes." Donovan answers, slightly doubting.
"Isn't that a little weird that after not seeing or speaking to your father for years, you suddenly remembered his existence three months ago, right before he died?"
"Uh..." Donovan was still thinking of an answer, when you stood up again. 
"Objection, your Honor. This is an accusation." You let out a desperate breath, unprofessionally leaning on your table.
"Overruled. Continue." Judge says with the calmest expression, the one that you would be more than glad to use right now. You sit down again. That is already a humiliation. Glancing at your opponent's table, you see a woman wiping her eyes with a little handkerchief. Most likely pretending to cry. If you had a case like this for the huge sum of money, you'd be fake-crying too. Nelson turns to look at you as well, shooting a polite smile. You do the same. Although this is a war zone, you were always polite, especially with Mr Nelson. Murdock, on the other hand, decided to choose you as his next target.
"Miss y/l/n, might I ask whether you knew anything about Mr Donovan's illegitimate child, Miss Darcy Donovan, who now might be considered as your client's step-sister?" Matt steps closer to your table, not looking at you, or the judge, but straight to the right side wall of the room.
"No, Mr Murdock, I didn't know anything about your client, who claims to be Mr Donovan's relative. As I was studying the family tree of my client, Miss Darcy has never appeared there." You answer, calmly, raising one eyebrow at the man in front of you. A shy grin appears on his lips for a moment before he puts on a serious expression again.
"So you're claiming, that your client had no idea that he had a sister somewhere out there, and that her existence was not a reason for the divorce of Mr Donovan's parents?" He asks, stilling for a moment, head tilted towards the judge.
"Yes, that is precisely what I am claiming, Mr Murdock. My client never knew the reason of his parent's divorce, let alone the existence of Miss Darcy."
"Miss, y/l/n, I'm sure there were records in hospitals and other resources that your firm uses, that Miss Darcy did exist, and in fact, shares the last name with your client." Murdock grins momentarily again, already pissing you off.
"Mr Murdock, in case you don't know, many people are sharing the same last names and in fact, are not even a bit related." You say, tightly grasping the pen in your hand, fake smile planted on your face. He's obviously playing around, repeating statements, trying to make you stumble. It worked once before.
"Objection, relevance, your Honor." Nelson stands up, looking a bit lost. You look at him surprised, usually partners were not the ones who dared to object their own case.
"Mr Murdock, get to the point." Judge answers, Nelson nods a couple of times and sits down. You steal a look at Donovan, who's intently watching Darcy. The latter pretends to flip through the pages of the case.
"Yes, your Honor. Miss y/l/n, I know that you spoke with your client's mother, did she say what was the reason of her divorce?" Matt asks, standing right in front of you, conveniently blocking your view of the judge. 
"No, Mr Murdock, she never revealed what you're calling "the real reason" of her split. She said that it was a mutual agreement - or to put it simply, the divorce was friendly. My client never questioned his parent's decision, as he respected it."
He says nothing for a moment. A moment too long. You look at Nelson, but he just shrugs at his partner's behavior.
"Mr Murdock, any more questions?" Judge asks loud enough for Murdock to snap out of whatever trance he was in.
"No, your Honor." He nods to the judge, turning to you upon the departure to his table, "Thank you, Miss y/l/n," and shoots a smile. Weird. But he didn't seem like a normal guy anyway.
"Miss y/l/n, any questions to Miss Donovan?" Judge asks. You quickly stand up, grabbing the pen for moral support, you must not fail.
"Yes, your Honor."
"Miss Donovan, please take the stand." 
A moment of shuffling and loud nose sniffling goes by as your client sits down at your table, and Darcy takes his place on judge's left. She briefly gives an oath on the Bible and gets comfortable. 
"Miss Donovan, might I ask, why did your mother give you this last name? Hers was Jones, if I'm not mistaken." You begin, watching the brown-haired woman intently. Even from the looks, the two Donovan 'siblings' couldn't be more different. 
"My mother, God rest her soul, told me that she wanted a better life for me... The one I couldn't possibly get under Jones name. When I reached adulthood, she told me that one day I'm going to meet my father, who was a good man. Good, but troubled." She sniffs quite loud again, and in the corner of your eye you notice how Murdock furrows his eyebrows.
"So from what I've heard, your mother simply gave you the last name of one of her latest flings?" You say, not wasting any time with politeness.
"Objection, your Honor, hearsay," Murdock stands up, leaning on the table.
"Overruled, continue, Miss y/l/n." Judge says, and you try to hide your grin as best as your can.
"Let me paraphrase that for you." You begin, "did your mother know for sure who was your biological father?"
"Um, no. I don't think so."
"And in the past she has had various, uh let me call them, relationships, right? Couple of them at the same time even?" You ask as politely as possible, this is your chance to catch her in a lie.
Matt stands up, but Foggy quickly brings him back to his seat by the sleeve of his jacket.
"Probably. I think so, yes." Darcy answers, looking for help at her lawyers.
"And she wasn't sure who was the father when she began to feel pregnant with you? Or was she absolutely certain that it was the late Mr Donovan?" You fix your loose tie with one hand, Matt audibly takes a deep breath.
"I'm... Not sure..."
"Miss, let me remind you that you swore an oath to tell the truth, so I think that's exactly what we all want to hear right now." You say, focused on the woman. Clearly the pressure of your words and the surprising silence from her own lawyers was doing its job, as she began playing with the hem of her dress.
"My mother told me that of all men she met throughout her life, Danny was the best one. But he was unfortunately married..." Darcy begins and you see an opportunity to strike again.
"But that didn't seem to stop her?"
Darcy furrows her eyebrows and thinks over your words for a moment. "My mother was a nice woman, and she...She made mistakes! Just like everybody else!" Darcy's face morphs into a crying grimmace and honestly, it was  a pity to watch her desperately trying to win the money.
"Objection, your Honor..." Murdock stands up again, visibly affected by the burst of emotions here, you're so close, you can practically touch the today's victory.
"Objection denied, continue Miss y/l/n." Judge calmly says, not wanting the breaking point of the case to be dropped now.
"Miss Darcy, now please answer to following statement, just by simply saying either "yes" or "no", okay?" You ask, slowly walking in front of Nelson and Murdock's table, already planning your journey in front of Darcy. Intimacy always seemed to work with opponent's clients. "Was your mother involved in a multiple relationships at the same time that were heavily based on sexual intimacy?"
Heartbeat. Another, after another, after another. Matt tilts his head to the side. Everything tunes out for a moment - Darcy's heartbeat picked up, she's either nervous, or is creating a lie.
"Yes. I believe so..." She begins, but you're quick to carry on with your next sentence.
"And when she had you, she had no idea who was the real father, yes?"
"Yes... But-"
"So she simply gave you the name of the last man who was involved in a close encounter with her before she noticed that she was expecting? And that happened to be Mr Donovan's father, right?" You ask, tightly holding the pen in your hand.
"Well...Yes." Darcy sighs, slightly lowering her head. 
"So you, not even sure that Mr Donovan is.. I'm sorry, was your father, hired a private investigator to find your father? All these years later?" You say, glancing at the stressed men on your right.
"Yes. But as you can see-" Darcy hopelessly begins.
"And when you got all the information about Mr Donovan, you found out that he was just buried, and his son, Mr Donovan, here, inherited a large sum of money and some property outside the city?"
"Yes, but I-"
"And then you decided that you want that money, that Mr Donovan rightfully inherited at any cost? Following my client to work and back to his house, creeping in the shadows but never brave enough to actually talk face to face?" You ask, feeling as if you're going to burst into million pieces at any moment. The courtroom is silent for a good moment, not even a fly dares to buzz around. The tension is thick, you glace back at your client and on your way to turning back your head to Darcy, your eyes fall upon Murdock, who seems to be deep in thought, perhaps ready to object your question at any given moment. It's a wonder that he wasn't doing that yet. "Yes or no, Miss Darcy?" you repeat your question again, hoping to get an answer now.
"Yes." She says just above the whisper and if any decibel lower, you wouldn't have heard it. Matt heard it loud and clear.
"Why?" you ask, now relaxed, the case was obviously an easy win, but you still had to work on it.
"I guess I was just nervous to approach him..."
"Well, I think couple of weeks are more than enough to collect the strength to approach your step-brother, Miss Darcy."
She says nothing, just silently cries into her handkerchief. You take a look at your client, he has an apologetic look on his face, but it's clear - he's not giving up the money.
"Your Honor, might I intervene?" Murdock asks, slowly standing up, Nelson fails to stop him this time.
"Go on, Mr Murdock." Judge says with a rather bored expression. You stay standing in front of Murdock's table.
"My client, Miss y/l/n, was, and still is in shock after she learned of her father's death. I do agree that stalking Mr Donovan was not the best idea but I think she went with the heart and-"
"Went with the heart to demand half of the inheritance?" You ask, taking a step closer to Murdock.
"I-" he begins.
"If I'm not mistaken, there's only one and only name written in Mr Donovan's will - and it's my client's, so Miss Darcy legaly has no rights for it. I'm sure you know it, Mr Murdock."
"What you don't know is that Mr Donovan had another will left, and it says that if no other heir is to appear until his death, all the money go to his son. But Miss Darcy did appear-" Murdock argues, nervously fixing his tie.
"Right after his death. Mr Donovan has spent the last moments with his father and surely, if he saw this woman in the hospital, he would've recognized her when she began stalking him."
"What exactly was your client doing there those last moments? If I'm not mistaken, after his parents split, he was close only with his mother." Matt says, taking a deep breath again.
"Mr Donovan?" You simply ask, feeling how your mouth became too dry to talk.
"I-um... My mamma called to say that paps was in hospital, something serious and he wanted to see me. I came there, we talk, a pretty heart to heart conversation actually, but he never even mentioned that he cheated on my mamma, or that he had a child somewhere. He just said that he regretted the time that he didn't spend with me. So in the last weeks, we were both fixing that mistake, I guess." Donovan says, and you notice how he tears up a little.
"Thank you" you say and turn to the judge, "That will be all."
"Thank you, Miss y/l/n, Mr Murdock." Judge says, Matt takes a seat. "I think we all should take a break, and the jury will be ready to make their decision, right?" he looks at the jury expectantly, and majority of them nod energetically. "Good. Let's return in 30 minutes."
You make your way towards the bathroom, which happens to be unisex one. Just as you step in front of a mirror to fix your hair, the door opens rather loudly, and no one other than Matt Murdock appears.
You stand up, dropping the pen on your table. "Go grab a coffee, I'm positive that everything is going to be okay for us, yeah?"
Donovan nods, getting up as well.
"Sorry, is this the bathroom?" He asks, smiling briefly.
"I'm sure you wouldn't be stepping in so confidently if it wasn't." You answer, following Murdock's path, which unfortunately leads to the neighboring sink.
"Ah, Miss y/l/n, pleasure to meet you somewhere outside the courtroom." he taps around the sink to find the source of water.
"You know, I honestly thought that I was going to run into you near the coffee machine but I guess life's a bitch." You turn on the water and wet your hands, the slowly tap the loose hair strands and for a while, they stick.
"What, not happy to see me?"
"I'd be more happy to see you lose today. We both know you have no chance of winning."
"Ah, never lost your confidence, Miss y/l/n, even after I beat you twice?" he smirks, and you feel the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
"Not exactly my style, I'm sure you should know that after two times. How's the business going? I overheard in the office that clients are paying you with food packets and uh, fruit bowls?" You ask, leaning on the sink with one hand.
Matt laughs, "I might share one if I win today."
"Oh, no, I would never use your kindness for selvish purposes, although I would gladly eat a donut right now. Any chance you carry one in your pocket?" You laugh as well, Matt grins.
"I don't think my pockets are big enough for that, but if I ever place one there, I'll be sure to give it to you, y/n." Matt dries his hands, leaning on the sink too.
"Oh, first name basis? Didn't think we were that far, Mr Murdock." You grin, shamelessly checking him out, it didn't hurt to know your opponent better, in and out.
"Never thought we were anything less." He smirks, offering you his elbow, clearly a sign for you to lead him out.
"So, you're so desperate for a case that you took this one? Is this how your business is going?" You ask nonchalantly, Matt furrows his eyebrows.
"Our business is going perfectly, thank you asking, y/l/N. How's -"
"You'd get much more if you worked at Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz." You simply say. "Good lawyers like you and Mr Nelson should not go to waste with cases like this.
"Is this a job offer or a piece of advice?" Murdock turns to the side, looking in your direction.
"Little bit of both, perhaps. Well," you tap his arm once, "we've reached the coffee machine. My treat? I believe you need to save money, considering today's loss."
"Miss y/l/n, aren't you too confident today? It's up to jury to decide, or have you already charmed one of them?" he leans on his cane, you put the money in machine and push the coffee button, discreetly taking a look at his knuckles, that are definitely bruised.
"The only charmer in the courtroom is you, Mr Murdock, I believe chances that you have already charmed that lady on the left are way higher." You smile, watching how the cup is filling up with hot drink.
"You think of me as a charmer?" Matt smirks.
"I think of you as a worthy opponent. Nothing more." You take the cup and hand it to Matt.
He takes the cup and smells it. "I'm forever in your debt now, y/l/n."
"Yeah, you and your partner." You click the button again, buying coffee for Nelson.
"My partner? Wait, so you, are buying drinks for me and Foggy?" Matt's smile is as big as his courtroom ego today.
"Well, I'm not a monster, you know." You roll your eyes.
"Didn't think of you as one." He says mysteriously and you feel the blush creeping on your cheeks. Not everyday you receive a compliment, especially with that attitude of yours.
"Here, I hope it's no trouble to hold another cup, or is Mr Nelson somewhere out there?" You crane your neck and look around the crowd of people, but Matt shakes his head.
"He's not here, I'll hold it." You put the cup in his hand, which is surprisingly warm.
"Friendship sixth sense?" You ask, but he just laughs the sentence away. "Well," you finally say after a moment, watching the coffee pour into the cup, "I'm good. Where to, Mr Murdock?"
"A place that is crowded? I assume you don't want anyone to see us together, as you know, as opponents, we're supposed to despise each other." He whispers devilishly.
"I like your thinking. Surely it would raise suspicions to anyone who knows us, they would probably think of us as best friends." You fake shudder and cross your hand with Matt's, taking Foggy's cup from him. His palm, that is touching your bare arm feels incredibly warm and heavy, and at this moment, you're just glad that the walk to the bench is not a long one.
"Coffee's nice." Matt finally says after a minute.
"Coffee's shit. Plus, we don't really need to talk, I don't want to lose the mood." You take another sip of the drink and lean on the bench.
Matt crosses his legs and turns to you, "What mood?"
"The mood of beating you." You simply say, downing the drink and tapping your pocket impatiently. You really needed a smoke but that would create even more distractions.
"We shall see about that beating. Maybe you were wrong all along."
"Listen, there's no way for Darcy to win. The will clearly states that Donovan gets everything-"
"If Darcy doesn't show up before his death." Matt argues, putting the cup on the bench, ready to wave his hands.
"But she showed up the day after he died." You press.
"Yes, after her father mysteriously died, and I believe that your client has something to do with it."
"What are you saying? Are you accusing Donovan of his father's death?" You say a little too loud. Couple of nearest people turn to look at the two of you, and Matt puts his hand on your arm again, leaning closer to you.
"Will you just keep your voice down? What I'm saying is that Donovan didn't even visit his father in years but suddenly shows up couple of weeks before his death? Right around the time when Darcy hired a PI? I know he's your client but doesn't that raise any suspicions?" Matt says lowly, almost whispering, his coffee breath hits your face.
"Murdock, I don't even know how to call what you're doing right now." You blow a raspberry but he squeezes your wrist a little.
"I'm not here to play sides, or to do you dirty, although I would really love it the other day, but I'm here to bring justice, and this whole thing smells shady as hell." He says and you lean forward, elbows on your knees, deep in thought.
"So if Donovan really had something to do with his father's death, although it's not possible. He died of a heart attack. Then what you're saying is that he did it on purpose when he found out of Darcy's existence?" You ask, raking your brain for any missing points, needing a smoke now more than ever.
"Yes, listen, I know it sounds crazy but it could be possible." Matt leans closer to you again.
"How would we know it? How did Donovan find out about Darcy if his mother didn't even know about the affair? And he claims to have never seen the will before his father's death. Also, that second will you brought up, doesn't make any sense. I've asked for the documents in the archive and never received it." You glance at the clock and stand up. "Whatever. It's up to jury now. They're gonna say their decision soon."
Matt stays silent, visibly lost in thought.
"You need help or can you manage through the crowd alone, Murdock?" You ask and he stands up, taking Foggy's cup and placing his palm on your elbow.
"Help would be nice, Miss y/l/n."
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not-using-this1 · 4 years ago
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Sick day cuddles
So I came up with this idea last night but didn’t know whether to write it with Alcina or Donna, so I let let people on my twitter decide and Donna won which I wasn’t expecting but I love her :) 
Luciana is going to be the name of the character I write with for Donna as she is my Oc but I will use ‘you’ for you guys as readers :)
This is my first Donna Beneviento oneshot and I’m still developing ways to write her to stay true to her as a character so bare with me! 
I may even make a part 2 if any of you like this and want me to!
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(Gif isn’t mine)
Donna sends Angie to wake up Luciana as she got up earlier to finish making this doll. Luciana hadn't gotten out of bed yet and she thought that was weird for her. However she doesn't want to get out of bed and so Donna checks to see if she's okay, but it turns out shes sick.
Basically Donna takes care of her girlfriend and even cuddles with her not caring that she could get sick to.
Warning/s: None
Nothing but Donna being adorable, shy even and wanting to care for her girl.
Donna Beneviento x Fem!Oc 
Donna had been wondering all morning why her lover hadn't gotten out of bed yet. She usually gets up an hour after her due to the fact she has been getting up early everyday to work on this new doll project. Angie, her favourite doll from childhood by her side as she watches her finish off the hat she had been making for the doll.
"Angie, could you go check on Luciana for me? I'm rather worried she hasn't gotten up yet". Donna asked the wedding dress clad doll, worry on her face was barely visible due to her wearing the mourning veil over her.
Angie chuckled at how worried Donna was but still she stood up and jumped down from the wooden chair the doll had previously sat on. "Of course, but you worry too much. She is probably having one of those days".
Donna sighed at her very much living doll "yes but those happen rarely anymore, now please Angie." Donna asked her once more. In fact she wasn't even asking she was telling her.
The doll ran into the hall and managed to get up the stairs with ease to Donna and Luciana’s bedroom. Of course it's hers too but she has a room by herself sometimes or just stays down the stairs with other dolls aka 'friends'.
Opening the door slightly so she could squeeze passed the gap. Luciana was on her side like usual but snuggling up to Donna's pillow. Angie chuckled at the sight before tapping the young woman on the forehead a few times.
The woman let out a whine and then some more as Angie continued poking her "Wake up Luciana!" She shreaked.
"Go away Angie" You coughed as she turned to face the wall, Donna's pillow still in your grasp as you hugged it tighter. Kicking the bedsheet off yourself as it was way too warm. "Someones moody, come on you've gotta get up!" Angie had prompted to try and budge you out of bed but clearly that wasn't working whatsoever.
"Angie no, I really don't think I can get up today" that immedietely put Angie in 'go fetch Donna' mode. So without another thought Angie rushed out of the room, leaving you to curl up in a ball and complain, you were definitely sick there was no denying that.
A couple minutes of being in the bedroom, nothing but silence and sometimes coughs and sneezes. You had tried to get comfy but nothing seemed to be working. Suddenly the door opening startled you to the point you sat up straight away only to see it was just Donna, a very concerned girlfriend she was.
You smiled at her, she removed the mourning veil from over her face as of course she felt comfortable around you, you smiled again, god she was so beautiful (if only your girls beauty was the cure to your sickness) she brightend up your morning.
"L-Luci my love are you alright?" Donna asks quietly as she sits at the side of your shared bed, you nodded your head 'yes' trying not to worry her too much but you knew she wouldn't believe you for a second especially because she must of heard you whining, coughing and sneezing.
"No, you're not, lay back" Donna instructed you, of course you complied. The raven haired woman placed her hand gently upon your forehead. "Oh you're burning up. Let me go get you some medicine and something to cool you down" Donna gives you a shy smile, just as she was about to get up from the bed you grab her arm "I'm sorry" you manage to get out without coughing.
You were supposed to be going out of the village to the store to fetch a few things and groceries today and you felt the need to apologise just for being ill. This was always a habit of yours, apologising for something so silly but you couldn't help it.
Donna sighs at you "there's no need to apologise, you can't help being ill sometimes. I'll send Tom the gardener out to fetch the groceries." Donna replies, she leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" She adds as she gets up and walks out the room.
Angie keeping you company "you humans are so fragile. Quit being ill so we can continue those horror movies!" Angie oh-so enthusiastically points out as she sits bored on a chair in the bedroom.
You let out a low chuckle as you layed back down and turned to face the doll "sometimes we can't help being ill Angie and who said we can't watch the horror movies while ill?"
That response made Angie jump up in joy and made you laugh slightly even though it hurt due to the stomach ache you had also gotten. "Um, I did. Wait until you get better, Luciana darling." Donna walks back in the room with some medicine and a glass of water with ice in it.
Angie huffed and left the room to go find something else to do like hang out with the other dolls for a bit while Donna sorted you out. You sat up as she handed you the tablets and also a glass of water "Here these should help and at least ease some of the pain and get your temperature back to normal".
You took the tablets and drank most of the water no problem but your stomach really wasn't agreeing with it, you groaned falling back down onto the bed "Why did I have to have the bad luck of being ill" you complained to your doll-making girlfriend. Still keeping your silly humour regardless.
"You don't have bad luck my dear, it just happens." Donna responded but thats honestly not what you wanted right now, you just wanted to cuddle her. So again before she could get up you stopped her by grabbing her blouse "W-what is it?" she asked you, the shyness still in her voice even though she had known you since childhood and has literally dated you for the passed 3 years.
Still you thought it was cute.
You coughed trying to clear your throat "could you stay? I know you're busy but I don't want to be alone right now" you asked her, pouting.
And who was she to refuse, Donna blushed slightly. She would drop everything just for you and besides you're more important to her. "Of course".
You smile at her as she gets into the bed with you, instantly pulling you in her arms, she presses a few kisses to your lips "you'll get sick too if you do that" you chuckle in her arms. "Worth it" she chuckles.
You return the kiss but on her forehead, you didn’t want her getting sick either. If it was possible to get Donna even more flustered well this was the way to do it. "Can me and Angie still watch those horror movies later tonight?" you asked quietly.
"No, just resting tonight." You pouted at her response "buuuuut-" you dragged on.
"No buts, you can watch them tomorrow if you're feeling better but right now I just want to stay like this with you. Tom has gone to get the groceries, Angie is probably-
"Lovebirdsssss" Angie cut off Donna as she waltzed into the room and climb up on the bed "Donna, Florence wanted me to ask you what you would like for dinner later?" She asks.
"What would you like, darling?" Donna asks you.
You shrug your shoulders at first, the raven haired womans arms still wrapped around you "I don't know if I can stomach anything solid so soup?" you questioned. Donna was more than happy to have that for today and even Angie was fine with that (yes she is a doll but she can eat a very small portion of food if she wanted to).
"Soup it is" Angie over-exagerated her voice as she cheered making both you and Donna laugh as she jumped off the bed to inform the cook what everyone wanted tonight.
"You don't have to stay if you want to finish working on that doll you know".
"No no shush, I'm staying now I'm more than happy." Your girlfriend mentions reassuring you that she is just fine with staying by your side the rest of the day. You wondered how you got so lucky to have such a soft but shy and beautiful childhood best friend and girlfriend in one.
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arvinsescape · 4 years ago
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Nurse Y/N
A/N: I’ve been working on this for a couple of days and happy to finally be able to post it. Mob Tom fic, i tried to add smut but i don’t think my writings there at the minute, i’ll do it eventually. Bit of a slow burn but not too much. As always i hope you enjoy.
Summary: You’re a nurse and you’ve always been on the right side of the law, what happens when you meet a man that sweet and caring but definitely not on the right side of the law.
Warnings: Language, mentions and hints of smut.
W/C: 4.4K,
You’d lived with your best friend for around a year now. A bad relationship had brought you to his door, he took you in and the rest is history. You were working as a nurse in the local hospital and you had no idea what exactly it was that your best friend did, he didn’t talk much about it, claiming he “just did odd jobs for someone”. You were sceptical to say the least, the amount of times he had come home covered in bruises led you to believe that his activities were probably not legal. But he never brought it home and being non the wiser made things slightly easier for you. It was your day off and you were stuck into a Netflix series when you saw your best friends name light up on your phone screen. You noticed it was 1am and wondered why he wasn’t home yet.
“Hi James. What’s up?”
“Y/N? Where are you?” He asked in a rushed tone. He sounded out of breath. You could hear the slamming of a car door over the speaker.
“I’m at home. Why? James what’s wrong?” You asked him, voice growing more concerned.
“I need your help. If I text you an address can you meet me there?”
“Sure. James are you okay?” You asked as you started to put your shoes on.
“I’m fine! I just need you to meet me.”
“Okay, text me the address.” You sighed as you hung up and grabbed your car keys.
Once you received the address you set off in the direction that your SAT NAV was taking you. As you came nearer to the destination you started to feel more and more uneasy. It was almost too quiet for London. You pulled into what looked like an abandoned warehouse, now you were really uneasy. You fumbled around your bag as you tried to find your phone, with a tight grip you dialled James’ number.
“Y/N? Where are you?”
“I’m outside but what is going on? Where have you brought me?”
“Stay there I’ll be out in a second.” He huffed as he put the phone down.
He wasn’t wrong, it couldn’t have been 30 seconds later that he arrived at your car, pulling the door open. He looked physically fine but the worry on his face still had you on your guard. What on Earth was going on? You glanced at the time in your car 1.10am. What the hell is happening?
“Y/N. I’m sorry for calling so late but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t go to a hospital and I need one, so I need your help. I need you to do something for me.” He spoke faster than you thought physically possible.
“Slow down. What is it? Are you hurt?” You asked as you scanned him overlooking for wounds that weren’t there. What did he mean he needed a hospital but couldn’t go?
“The guy I work for. He’s been injured, someone managed to get a shot off on him.” He rambled as he pulled you towards the building.
“Shot! What the hell are you talking about? What do you do?” You almost screamed.
“Look. I promise I’ll explain everything Y/N. But right now I need you to help him. I can’t take him to a hospital it would be too risky. I need you to take the bullet out and stitch him up. Please, he’s my boss. He’ll make it worth your while.” He asked you with pleading eyes as he pulled you further into the warehouse.
“James. I’m not a surgeon! I don’t know if I can do that!” You started to panic now.
“You can give stitches though? He’s been shot in the arm, he’s losing blood, but I think the bullet is stemming the bleeding. I don’t think it’s lodged too far in. Please and I promise I’ll explain everything.”
The nurse in you was screaming at you to try and help who ever it was but you were frightened, you weren’t a surgeon. What if it went wrong? He could sue you; you’d lose your career. You weren’t supposed to do this off duty. So many things were running through your mind as James took you into another room that was filled with 4 other men. All dressed rather smart to say they’d clearly been involved in illegal activity. The man who James had informed you was the boss became apparent when you saw him clutching his arm. Blood dripping down it.
“Boss. This is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” James explained as you both stopped in front of him. He was attractive at first glance. Beautiful brown eyes and brown curls that were almost begging to have fingers run through them. You kept quiet, feeling intimidated as he stared you down, expression completely unreadable.
“Can you trust her?” The ‘Boss’ asked James.
“She’s been my best friend for years; you can trust her.” James answered confidently. You just shook your head, finally having the courage to speak up.
“Hang on just a second. What do you mean can you trust her? I’m the one who should be wondering that, your sat there having been shot, apparently need my help and you have the audacity to ask if you can trust me?” You almost screamed at the man in front of you. You don’t know what made you snap, maybe it was the stress of the situation or how tired you suddenly felt. James grasped your arm in a tight grip.
“Y/N. I love you, but this is no time to be head strong. Just please, be respectful, he’s an important man.” He said to you as he released your arm. Before you could say anything, the brown eyed man spoke first.
“No, that’s quite alright James. She’s feisty, nothing wrong with that.” He said as he smirked in your direction. He may have been good looking, but he was irritating the hell out of you. You just looked at him as if to say, “what the fuck?” He just smiled at you. “Now, I would very much appreciate it if you could help me out. I will pay you what ever you want, and I promise not to say a word to anyone about what you have done for me.” He gave you what seemed to be a genuine smile and you sighed. Perhaps doing what he asked was the fastest way to get to bed.
“Look, I’m not a surgeon. I might not be able to do much, but I’ll try. Let me have a look.” You said as you eyed him carefully. James had left to stand near the other 3 men in the room. You took his arm as you assessed the damage. Maybe you could do this. The wound didn’t look all that bad. “I think I can do this. It just, it will hurt, and I don’t have anything to numb the pain. In fact, I don’t have anything at all to work with.” You suddenly realised.
“Well I came somewhat prepared. Sam? Have you got the first aid kit?” He turned to one of the men. ‘Sam’ nodded and made his way towards you, handing you the first aid kit and making his way back to his original spot. This really was some strange operation.
“Like I said, this might hurt.” You sighed as you got to work.
**
“Okay. All done.” You said as you finished up the stitching. You were surprised at how little he flinched throughout the process. He must have one hell of a pain tolerance. “Take some paracetamol and ibuprofen when you get home. I really would suggest you go to an actual hospital to make sure I removed that bullet properly.” You said as covered the stitching with a bandage.
“Thank you very much. I’m sure I won’t be going to a hospital, not sure how I would explain a bullet wound without the police getting involved and what would I tell them? I’d have to tell them nurse Y/N helped me out in the first place.” He teased.
“Whatever, just please don’t sue me if you end up losing your arm.”
“I promise. Now how much would you like for what you have done. Name your price. It’s yours.”
“I don’t want anything. Just please don’t tell anyone what I did and try and stay out of trouble.” You sighed as you looked into his brown eyes. You really were tired now, thankful that you had a day off tomorrow, well today.
“I already promised that I wouldn’t say anything and as for staying out of trouble I’m afraid I can’t promise you that. But hopefully I won’t need your services like this again. Are you sure you don’t want any money?”
“I’m sure. It wouldn’t feel right to take money when I know I shouldn’t have done that. I really just want to go home and go to bed.”
“Whatever makes you feel better princess.” He said as he flashed you a genuine smile and that nickname made your stomach do things that you’d rather not think about. He wasn’t someone you should get mixed up with. That much you could tell.
“James? Are you coming?” You finally turned to your best friend and he just shook his head, saying that he had things to finish up there and with that you left. You fell into bed and as soon as your head hit the pillow you were asleep.
**
You woke up at around 12pm, having not gotten into bed until 3am and you were still feeling exhausted. You briefly wondered if last night was just a strange dream was just but you knew it wasn’t. You made your way downstairs and made yourself a coffee, yeah you were going to need caffeine to wake up today. You wandered into the living room where you saw James sat on the couch, he looked over at you.
“Y/N. Thank you so much for last night. I’m so fucking sorry that I dragged you into that, but I couldn’t let anything happen to him, he’s a very important man.” James rambled as you took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, sipping your coffee.
“I just want an explanation, James. It’s the least you can do.” You were still slightly pissed at him, but you knew he wouldn’t have risked you and your job if it wasn’t important.
“Okay. Look, I’m involved with the London ‘mob’ if you want to call it that. I’ve made it pretty far up in the ranks and that was my boss, the leader you saved last night. We were reclaiming some old territory when things went a little south and he got shot. I can’t thank you enough for what you did, and I promise I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if I didn’t have to.” He sighed. You’d stayed silent, taking in his words and you just sighed back.
“Listen, I’m still pissed but it’ll pass. I had a gut feeling you were involved in something illegal and I think you should get out if you can but please don’t get me involved like that again and we’ll continue to pretend that this never happened and you don’t do what you do for a living. The less I know the better.” James smiled at you as he hugged you.
“Thank you Y/N. You’re the best. I love you; you know that. I can deal with you being pissed; I deserve that much. I promise I’ll make it up to you, pizza for tea. I’m buying!”
Most people would say that you’d had a rather nonchalant response but honestly. You didn’t want to know more; he was your best friend and maybe you were trying to look the other way to protect your image of him or maybe you were still tired and your brain hadn’t quite caught up yet but you left it at that and he told you he was going to ‘work’ and off he went about his day as you started going about your own.
You’d just been for a shower when you heard a knock at the door. You hadn’t been expecting a visitor and assumed it was your friend who also had today off. You threw on your pyjamas which consisted of shorts and a tank top as you made your way to the door.
“You know Lizzy, you could’ve texted me before you decided to- “Your words were cut short as you opened the door. It wasn’t Lizzy at all, it was the man you’d helped last night, escorted by two other men that you didn’t recognise.
“If I had your number, I might’ve done sweetheart.” He said as he took in your attire. You suddenly felt self-conscious under his stare and wished you’d have grabbed your dressing gown.
“What are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” you asked him.
“My apologies but James said you lived together, and I know where all my staff live.”
“Okay, so what do you want?”
“I came to thank you properly for last night. You don’t want paying and I can’t take what you did for free.” He said as he watched you cautiously eye the two men that he’d brought with him. “Don’t worry about them, apparently I’m not aloud to go anywhere alone until my arm is healed. Mum’s orders and you know you don’t argue with your mother.” He said, trying to ease you, you still looked somewhat tense. “Can I come in? I’ll make them stay outside.” He asked and there was that genuine smile again. It made your stomach flip and you just nodded as you moved aside and let him in. Shutting the door rapidly as he crossed the thresh hold.
You hadn’t noticed his hands were full until he placed down a large box on your kitchen counter. “Do I want to know what’s in there?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Well unless you’re allergic to anything in there, I wouldn’t be too concerned.” He teased. You made your way over and opened the box, it was full of god knows how many boxes of all different types of chocolate. “I did ask James and he said you loved chocolate so I thought I could repay you by starting there.”
“Well thank you but honestly I don’t want anything else. It’s not like you were on deaths door.” You joked back. Something about him set you at ease when it probably shouldn’t have.
“Well who knows? I might’ve lost my arm.” He laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, it was almost contagious. “Tom by the way.”
“Wow. James didn’t call you Tom; I must be honoured.” You laughed.
“Well unlike James, you don’t work for me princess.”
“No, I suppose I don’t.”
“Cute pj’s by the way.” He teased as he eyed you again. You instantly wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling conscious under his stare, but not in a bad way, in a way that made your stomach flutter and heat rush to your cheeks.
“Um, thanks. Look, not to be rude but what do you want?” You asked as you locked eyes with him. God he was beautiful.
“I’d like to take you out to lunch, as a thank you. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Will you take no for an answer?”
“Not really darling.”
“Fine. Give me 10 minutes.” You laughed as you made your way upstairs to get changed.
**
He took you to a nice restaurant at the other side of town, it seemed expensive, but he didn’t seem to mind, it seemed like he knew everyone that worked there. He probably owned it; you came to realise. It was actually a lovely afternoon spent chatting and getting to know him. There were numerous times when you found yourself wondering how he ended up being part of a mob. He was sweet but every time you remembered what he did for a living you were reminded that you couldn’t let yourself go there.
**
“And where have you been?” James teased as you came through the door.
“Out.” You answered vaguely.
“With a certain brown eyed, brown haired mobster?”
“How did you know?” You asked, shocked.
“Well I know he was interested in how I knew you and then we didn’t see him again all day.”
“Right, well, he just wanted to say thank you.” You said as you joined him on the couch.
“Bullshit Y/N. I think he has a soft spot for you.” He continued to tease you. “I mean come on. He’s gorgeous.”
“It was just a thank you lunch!” You defended yourself. “Besides it wouldn’t be a good idea, you know with what he does for a living, if you want to call it that.”
“Yeah, but he could offer you protection and all the money you’d ever need. He might do illegal stuff but he’s not a complete monster Y/N.”
“James, please don’t go there.” You groaned as you took a slice of pizza from the box he’d ordered in.
“Okay, okay. I know that look though. That one you had when you came through that door. I just have one question for you.” He said as he laughed.
“What’s that?” You asked, mouth full of pizza.
“When are you seeing him again?”
You picked up the nearest pillow and hit him with it, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ as he laughed at you. You finished your night watching a movie before heading to bed, dreams of a curly haired, brown eyed boy flooding your dreams.
**
Two weeks passed before you saw Tom again. James had mentioned he wasn’t going to be in for the night, and you’d decided to read a book as there was a knock at the door. You made your way over and opened the door, there he was, alone this time.
“Déjà vu. I swear you had exactly the same thing on the last time you opened this door for me.” He laughed as he gestured towards your attire.
“I did. What are you doing here Tom?”
“I actually just came to see you.” He said as he made his way past you so you could close the door.
“And why’s that?”
“Look, I can’t stop thinking about Y/N. God knows I’ve tried but I can’t, and I know we hardly know each other but I’d like to change that.” He answered, he’d stepped slightly closer to you.
“Tom.” You sighed. “We shouldn’t. This isn’t a good idea, you know that right?”
“Trust me, I’ve been through this a thousand times since we last saw each other but I can’t help it. I think I like you, like a lot.” He said as he reached towards you, catching a strand of your hair as he played with the end of it. Your heart rate was starting to pick up at the closeness.
“Tom I-“
“I could give you everything and anything you want princess. I’d look after you and that’s a promise, I know my line of work is messy and comes with risks but I’m willing to risk everything for a chance with you.” He’d tucked the strand of hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek, moving his face closer to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips.
“We shouldn’t” you whispered, although you knew you didn’t mean it. He just shook his head in agreement with you. Lips almost touching.
“If you don’t want to just tell me to stop.” He whispered against your lips. Your body moved before your brain could catch up and you connected your lips. It was like fireworks had exploded in your stomach. Your lips moved against each other as your fingers made their way into his curls, god they were soft.
He backed you up until your back hit the cool wall behind you, moving his hands to grip your hips. His tongue slid over your bottom lip asking for access which you gladly gave. Your tongues danced together like they were old dance partners. Knowing exactly how to move together and it made you moan slightly. You pulled back for a bit of air before his lips were back on yours. You’d never been kissed like this before. Almost as if he was trying to tell you everything through the kiss.
He tapped your thigh and you jumped, his strong arms instantly catching you as he pinned you further against the wall. Your mind was racing, this was possibly the hottest, most intense kiss you had ever engaged with. “Do you want to stop?” He mumbled against your lips. You only shook your head in response reconnecting your lips as he carried you through the flat, you directed him towards your bed room and the night was spent with you receiving the most amount of attention and pleasure you’d ever experienced with another human being.
**
You woke up with a warm arm wrapped around your waist, your mind flooded with the events of the night before. You smiled to yourself as you carefully removed his arm and made your way into the bathroom. You examined yourself in the mirror after having brushed your teeth and gasped at the large hickey that had been left on the sweet spot of your neck. You bit your lip and smiled. You threw on Tom’s shirt that he’d worn last night and some underwear, making your way into the kitchen. You boiled the kettle as you got two mugs out, lost in your thoughts you didn’t hear a second person enter the kitchen.
“Well someone looks happy.” James laughed as you lightly screamed and turned around to face him.
“James, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” You gasped, hand on heart as you waited for it to beat at a regular pace again.
“I recognise that shirt.”
“How can you recognise a white button up shirt?” You asked in disbelief.
He just laughed at pointed at the sleeve, you looked down and on the cuff of the shirt was ‘T.H’ embroidered in gold. Heat instantly rose to your cheeks.
“It’s none of your business!”
He threw his hands up in defence. “You’re right, it’s not. You look happy though, I’m happy for you.”
“I don’t- we haven’t spoken about it.” You sighed. Just as you spoke Tom walked into the kitchen, he smiled at you.
“I wondered where that had gotten to.” He laughed gesturing towards the shirt as he said morning to James. James shook his head and laughed.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” He grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out of the flat. Leaving you and Tom stood in the kitchen. He was shirtless and he looked good, you bit your lip as you looked at him.
“Morning princess.” He smiled as he wrapped you in a tight, warm embrace.
“We should talk about last night.” You mumbled against his chest. He sighed.
“Look, I meant what I said. All of it.” He kissed the top of your head. You pulled out of his embrace as you looked at him.
“I just- I know it might seem ridiculous because of last night but I want to take it slow. We should get to know each other. We don’t know enough about each other yet and last night, I don’t regret it but maybe we should take it back to step one.”
“Whatever you want princess. I promise I’ll look after you. I know my line of work bothers you and I hope that you can accept that it’s part of what I do but I understand if getting to know me more means that that is too much for you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. He was being vulnerable, honest and you knew you had to give him the chance. You’d regret it if you didn’t.
**
You went on dates and it would be three months before you found yourself in bed with him again. You fell hard and you fell fast for him. You ended up leaving your job in favour of becoming the woman who oversaw all of Tom’s books. He kept you safe and he loved you and made you feel more loved than you thought possible. Anything you wanted, you got. Anything you needed, you had. Anything you asked of him, done.
You never imagined that you’d end up dating a man on the wrong side of the law and being okay with it, being complicit in it but here you were. You married about three years in and nothing changed, he still made you feel the same way he had years prior. You had three beautiful children with him, and he was best, most loving father a child could hope for. You had two boys which he would do anything and everything for and your little girl well he doted on her completely, she was his little angel, couldn’t do a thing wrong in his eyes.
“You know I never thought I’d say this” he spoke one night as you were cuddled up in bed “but I’m actually thankful I got shot that night.”
“Most people wouldn’t be thankful for that Tom.” You teased him.
“No probably not. But I never would have met you had it not happened.” He said sincerely as he ran his fingers up and down your arm.
“No, you wouldn’t have. I’m always thankful I gave you the chance even if at the time I was wary.” You laughed as you kissed his chest.
“Admit it. I had you the second I kissed you and then gave you one of the best railings you’d ever had.” He teased which earned him a playful smack on the chest.
“Yeah that always helps.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes at him. You couldn’t be more in love with this man if you tried. 
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taexual · 4 years ago
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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (17)
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    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: college au
warnings: angst → smut (dom!jjk themes but only because he can’t control himself lol)
words: 8.2k
    chapter seventeen
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Namjoon dropped you off back on campus and was even kind enough – or guilty enough – to offer his help in your search for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to take up any more of his time and, in the case of actually finding Jungkook, you didn’t think you’d make the situation better by having Namjoon with you.
The first thing you did after you exited his car on campus was leave the campus – because you thought that Jungkook may have lingered by the club where Parental Advisory performed tonight; even if his bandmates didn’t seem to think so, since Yoongi insisted they’d lost their lead vocalist – and walking around in the shoes you’d picked today was almost enough to make you regret not asking Namjoon to drive you around, after all.
You hadn’t worn heels but the ballet flats were still not fit for this much walking and, once you circled the club twice and even asked the manager – who was having a smoke outside – if he’d seen Jungkook, you decided that you could understand why Yoongi had been so upset about his bandmate’s disappearance. 
As you returned to campus, you decided that you were also ready to strangle Jungkook once you finally found him.
“Have you heard anything from him?” you asked in your text message to Yoongi and then informed him, “I’m on my way to my dorm now to change into more comfortable shoes but I’ll check some of the buildings where he has classes after that.”
Just as you passed the library – and peeked inside because, although slim, there was the possibility that Jungkook may have been hiding out here (he wasn’t) – your phone buzzed with Yoongi’s reply.
“The guys and I will check them,” he was saying, “are there any other places on campus that have some significance to you and him?”
You did a double-take when you finished reading the text, not liking the wave of awkward and misplaced guilt that returned when you fully grasped what Yoongi was implying – he may not have been accusing you of anything, but he was, clearly, convinced that you were the reason why Jungkook missed the encore of his show and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth.
“I’m not sure,” you started to type back as you walked past the double-doors of your dormitory, startling your seemingly drunk RA who had been dozing off on the couch in the first-floor lounge. You stopped typing to press the elevator button, but then resumed, “I’ll walk around. He couldn’t have gone far.”
“He could have,” came Yoongi’s arbitrary – but, frankly, objective – response and you sighed as you read his words, your reflection looking very gloomy in the mirror of the elevator. “But let’s hope he didn’t. If you find him first, kick him where it hurts most. And then punch him for me, too.”
You couldn’t help snickering at the absurdity of the situation that you were in – you definitely never thought you’d end up bonding with Jungkook’s bandmates over your mutual frustration with him – as you typed back your response.
“If his phone isn’t back on within the next ten minutes,” you were saying in your text, stopping for a second when the elevator ding! announced that you’d reached your floor, “I will be doing a lot more than just—”
You stopped typing as an audible gasp escaped your lips, prompted by the sight at the far end of the hallway, right by the door of your dorm. Your phone nearly left your hands, on its way to crash on the floor. You’d caught it—miraculously—your eyes still locked on the figure, sitting on the floor by your door.
“Jungkook,” you said, meaning it as a question but not being able to articulate it properly due to your shock. The dim lighting of the hallway made it difficult for you to make out if it the silhouette was actually him, or if it was someone who was incredibly similar to him.
“Oh,” the person replied and – clumsily – stood up, relying heavily on the wall to help him support his weight. It was Jungkook alright. But barely. “You’re here.”
“I’m—of course, I’m here. I live here,” you said, not sure how to react. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
Various unintelligible sounds left your mouth after he said this – the first syllables of all the words you wanted to say in the moment; all of them rated-R – until you settled on watching him for a minute to get some time to form a coherent thought and to asses the damage.
It didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. It simply looked like he got very drunk and plopped down on the floor next to your dorm room.
“Waiting for—Jungkook, fuck—do you know that your band is literally out there, looking for you?” you demanded after inhaling sharply. “There’s a whole search party for you and you’re—you’re here.”
“I was waiting for you to come back,” Jungkook said. He was a lot more sober now than he was hours ago, but he still wasn’t sober enough to recognize his own guilt. Actually, he was probably never sober enough to feel guilty about anything, but alcohol had little to do with it. “I was going to drive over there to find you—”
“You’re drunk,” you snapped, interrupting him.
“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t,” he said, pausing for more effect as he waited for you to express your admiration for his self-control but, after it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and, sounding disappointed, explained, “I knew you would give me shit if I drove a car drunk and I promised you that I wouldn’t. So I didn’t. I waited for you here instead.”
“You should have known that drunk-driving is unacceptable because that puts you and everyone around you in danger,” you countered, the moral superiority in your voice clouding the meaning of your words, “and not just because I would give you shit if you did it again.”
He rolled his eyes but chose not to expand on this argument because you didn’t look like you were in the right mood to understand his point of view about “conforming to societal norms”, even if it meant that he was putting himself – and those around him – in danger. Not to mention, he was still too tipsy to hold out a proper conversation.
“How long have you been here?” you asked after he didn’t reply.
You were well-aware that you were having this conversation in the hallway when you could have, theoretically, had it in your room. The door was right there. The key was in your handbag.
But entering – and inviting him inside – wasn’t something you were ready for just yet. The adrenaline from not knowing where Jungkook was and what had happened to him still hadn’t faded. Your breathing still hadn’t calmed down – funnily enough, it would not calm down for the rest of the night, but you didn’t know that yet.
“A while,” he replied just as you remembered you were supposed to let Yoongi know you’d located the missing boy. You got your phone out while Jungkook continued, “I bribed your RA with my six-pack of Heineken. Well, actually, it wasn’t really mine, I just took it from the bar, but—”
You stopped typing the text message to give him a hard look. “You stole six bottles of beer?”
Jungkook blinked, thrown off by the fever in your eyes. “No. I took them.”
“Without paying?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s stealing.”
“I do it all the time,” he waved his hand dismissively – and pushed himself off the wall in the process, only to lean back against it again a moment later, when he realized he was still not steady enough on his feet. He nodded his head at your phone, “ask Yoongi. The manager knows us there. We get drinks on the house.”
“I’m—how do you know I’m texting Yoongi?”
“You said there was a search party for me,” he said, taking you off-guard with his accurate conclusions. You wondered what sort of effect alcohol had on him, “Yoongi is the only one that cares enough to lead it.”
He didn’t mean to make it sound sad – in fact, his facial expression remained the same: somewhat cautious and a little irritated – but you still felt an unpleasant pang of misery in the pit of your stomach.
“He’s—well, I care, too,” you said with a nervous cough that was meant to rid you of all pity you felt towards him because pity didn’t justify what he did. “A lot of people care. You can’t just disappear like that in the middle of your show and—”
“It is Yoongi you’re texting, right?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Not someone else?”
He was probably trying to be nonchalant about it but, consciously or not, he ended up making his question unbearably obvious. The “someone else” may have been an abstract concept to outsiders – your peers, lurking by their doors and watching the argument play out through their peepholes – but you both knew whom Jungkook had in mind.
“Yes,” you said. “I was texting Yoongi. We’d agreed to let each other know if we found you.”
“Okay, good,” Jungkook said and proceeded to act like this was all a mere misunderstanding that wasn’t worth a lengthy discussion. “Can we go inside now? It’s weird to talk in the hall.”
“Are you going to tell me why you got drunk before your show?” you asked, your voice on the edge of yelling. “Or why you skipped out on the encore?”
Understanding that answering this was the one condition to enter your room, Jungkook sighed. 
He was hoping you’d come to your own conclusion about this and he could just roll with whatever you thought was the truth – that he was useless, untrustworthy, reckless, and any other thing that people regarded him as – because explaining himself meant talking about his feelings. And he was so good at pretending that he didn’t like to do that.
“Because you weren’t there,” Jungkook answered.
You couldn’t help but groan. You’d gotten so tired of his no-more-than-four-word responses to serious questions, you couldn’t hear any more of them. You hated having to ask specific questions to get him to talk when he knew very well what you wanted to know.
“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned irritably. “I wasn’t at your previous shows and that didn’t seem to be a problem.”
“Before—”
“Not to mention,” you continued, choosing to let it all out now that he’d shown you he wasn’t going to be completely upfront with you, “you knew where I was. We’d talked about our plans for tonight extensively, and I wasn’t supposed to hear from you until the barbecue ended and you wrapped up your show.”
“Okay, fine,” Jungkook said, his voice rushed. He didn’t want to hear any more of your accusations because he knew he would lose the battle of wits – he would have lost it on an ordinary day, but today, everything he said seemed extremely wrong. “It’s because you were with him.”
“With Namjoon?” you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.
Not liking your defensive stance, Jungkook swallowed and said slowly, “yes.”
You looked away from him then – as if you were gazing into an unseen camera and waiting for someone to yell that you’d been punk’d – your eyes losing focus.
“Are you kidding me?” you asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm.
“I’m not,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “My own father sent me the picture.”
“The picture?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing. “It was just a picture of the company employees! Namjoon happened to be standing next to me. You can’t seriously be acting like that because of something as minor and irrelevant as this. I thought we’d already talked about this.”
Completely forgetting every past conversation, Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Minor and irrelevant,” he repeated, an undeniable snarl in his voice. “Is that what this is? At this point, you spend as much time with him as you do with me.”
“Why is that a problem?” you challenged. “We’d already agreed you wouldn’t do this! I am allowed to hang out with my friends. You have no reason – or no right, for that matter – to react like that. You know there’s nothing going on.”
“I’m not—”
“And I spend even more time with Inna than I do with Namjoon,” you cut him off, “why was she never an issue?”
“Oh, so, Inna, Namjoon, and I are all the same to you?”
You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the trap he must have set for you with this question. “Yes.”
“Oh, how brilliant,” Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and turning his back to you as he spat, “your three closest friends.”
“I wouldn’t say—”
He turned around suddenly, his gaze full of blazing fire. “Do you kiss them the way you kissed me last week?”
His words seemed to punch you right in your lungs and all breath left them as you stood there, trying desperately to inhale and suddenly feeling a lot more drunk than he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol tonight.
“I didn’t think we were going to talk about that,” you said lamely, all conflict having left you along with your breath. It wasn’t really a response to his question but it was the best you could do when he was looking at you like that.
“We weren’t,” he said. “But only because I could see how much you didn’t want to. I could tell you were pushing me away—”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” he interrupted you before you could properly interrupt him, and continued his tirade, “and I understand your reasons. I left you seven years ago and friends aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t abandon friends.”
Faced with this point-blank truth, you were forced to lower your eyes to the floor as you attempted to lie, “I-I didn’t—”
“I told you of my reasons back then,” Jungkook said, not needing your excuses. He knew what the truth was and he didn’t blame you for feeling insecure. “I wanted to keep you safe from myself. And maybe I have my reasons now, too.”
“What?” your stomach dropped. When you looked up at him again, he was already standing a few steps closer to you. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t want to walk away from you,” he said, spilling his next words in one single breath, “but I can’t handle just fake-dating you because the thought of someone else dating you for real, makes me want to tear the fucker up to pieces.”
You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure if you understood his speedy delivery correctly or if your heart was banging against your ribs for no reason.
“And maybe that’s why I should leave,” he spoke then, taking another step towards you and taking over your personal space not with just his words, but with his presence, too. “But we’re both adults now. I’m still learning how to properly be one, but I’d already missed one opportunity to be with you and I can’t miss another one. So, even though I should, I can’t fucking leave. I don’t want to.”
Speaking quietly, you asked, “then don’t.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he said and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lift your eyes to his and settled on watching his lips instead, which was about ten times worse, “I am—I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be the same as the rest of your friends for you. And I really don’t fucking want to be the same as Namjoon.”
“Namjoon—he drove me here,” you found yourself saying as your mind short-circuited, “to look for you. He’s kind and understanding but neither of us are interested in one another. He… I think he always knew that my heart was elsewhere.”
This time, it was Jungkook who needed a full explanation, not an off-handed excuse. “Where?”
Right here, you would have said but you chose to show him instead as you leaned in closer, removing the remaining bits of distance between you by gently touching his lips with yours.
Jungkook reacted immediately, responding to you and refusing to let you pull away by placing one of his hands on your right elbow and another one on your waist. He wasted a split-second when he pulled back to inhale, but then he made up for it by kissing you again, his lips closing against yours in a tight lip-lock.
You pulled back, however, a smacking noise echoing around the hallway as you did, whispering to him, “are you still drunk?”
“Not in the slightest,” Jungkook replied breathlessly before pressing his lips to yours again.
Kissing him back and feeling how the quick, gentle pecks turned into deep, open-mouthed kisses as his tongue caressed your lower lip before making its way into your mouth, made your mind hazy and you were forced to hold onto him tighter.
He sighed into the kiss; the feeling of you clutching the flaps of his jacket was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 
And then you let go suddenly, pulling away yet again.
“Are you going to do it again?” you asked because you had to hear him say it. “Are you going to leave? Stop talking to me?”
To be honest, Jungkook would have promised you the world in that moment. Hell, he’d have promised you the whole universe when you looked at him like that – with eyes full of need and parted lips as you tried to catch your breath.
“Never,” he told you.
You seemed to read his mind. “You better not be saying that so we could keep kissing.”
He could have laughed at this if he didn’t know how much this meant to you – how much this meant to you-and-him – but he did know, and that’s why he took your hand, pulling it away from the flap of his denim jacket, and placing it squarely on his chest.
“I promise,” he said in tandem with his heartbeat.
Your lips crashed against each other again and the collision could have had painful consequences if your hands wouldn’t have been there to soften it. You held onto one another, pulling each other closer despite already touching everywhere it was possible to touch.
You could still taste the alcohol on his tongue but you could also taste him – mint and strawberries – especially when he used one of his hands to tilt your face in the right angle that allowed his tongue to play with yours. And then, as if he’d just snapped his fingers, you completely forgot about your surroundings and focused on kissing him back.
His touch ignited your skin and, as soon as he lifted the corner of your shirt and barely grazed your bare hip with the tips of his fingers, you already knew he’d started a fire you couldn’t put out.
In a rare moment when your mind cleared – all because Jungkook needed to inhale before he kissed you again – you realized that you were still in the hallway where, technically, anyone could have seen you.
Except that didn’t scare you much.
What scared you was this very realization: you wouldn’t have cared who saw you here, as long as he was still so close.
“My keys,” you whispered. He understood what you were saying – and what you implied by that – but he’d have rather been struck by lightning than voluntarily pulled away from you.
And so, forgetting your sanity for a yet another moment, you cherished in the feeling of his lips on yours, letting him push you against the wall next to your door.
Only when his body was pressed so tightly against yours that you found yourself trapped in the most delightful way possible, did you realize that this wasn’t going to be enough and you needed to leave the hallway before it escalated.
“Jungkook—” you tried again, pulling away this this time. Naturally, he lowered his head to kiss the side of your face instead, going down to your jawline and planting kisses on your neck, all while you desperately tried to find the keys in your handbag, your hands – and your entire body – shaking. “I can’t—ah, please, let me—the door—”
Jungkook would have pulled away from you if you’d asked but you weren’t asking – you didn’t want him to. And he had a hard time focusing on what you were saying anyway, especially when the beginning of his name never left the tip of your tongue.
Finally, your fingers located your keychain and pulled it out from your handbag. But blindly unlocking the door proved to be even more difficult than finding the keys.
Had you been less lost in each other, you could have stopped kissing for one minute to enter your dorm room, but any thought of disconnecting your mouths and bodies seemed ridiculous and impractical. Why would you waste your time by not kissing each other?
You managed to push the key into the lock through sheer luck, and then, hoping to open the door, you took a step forwards, away from the wall and into Jungkook – who didn’t mind being the one who held you, not letting you get too far away from him.
The speed with which you entered your room once the door was opened, would have probably knocked you both off your feet. But God favored those who were in love, and, the thing that you ended up knocking down, was just the bowl for keys that you and Inna kept by the door. You couldn’t have cared less about it – you barely even heard it clatter against the floor.
Following the invisible pull towards your bed, you and Jungkook successfully maneuvered past the door frame separating the bedroom area from the hallway, and – only stumbling once, when he pulled back to take his jacket off – you finally reached the privacy of your room.
“If you want me to stop,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your body against his; your bed was right behind you and you knew you’d have fallen on it with the smallest push from him, “you have to tell me now because—” he kissed you again with the same raw hunger as before, “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave otherwise.”
“No,” you breathed, matching the intensity of his kisses with your own, “don’t stop.”
And that was the permission he needed to nudge you forwards until he landed on top of you on your bed, leaning on his elbows on either side of you. It was so similar to the way you’d made out on Sunday night in his parents’ house, and yet, it was so different, too, because you were past the point of caring about any interruptions now.
If someone knocked on your door right then – if someone walked in – you wouldn’t have even flinched.
Lifting your shirt and exposing more of your skin for his impatient fingers to explore, Jungkook was forced to break the kiss again, so he could fully take the garment off. And then he had to pause again so he could take a quick breather because of how ethereal you looked like this: half-naked and daring him to keep going with your eyes.
“Jungkook,” your soft whisper brought him back to life and helped him realize that this time, he wasn’t dreaming. This time, he had you here with him.
And so, he took his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again – clumsily and sloppily – and the new feeling of his bare skin against yours was enough for you to arch your back off the bed, all so you could feel more of him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed before bringing his hands up your sides and kissing down your neck. Encouraged by the sound of your whimpers when he gently brought his teeth over the spot below your collarbone, he sucked on the skin there with more force, leaving faint bruises.
Your hands slid down to his waist – reaching for the buckle of his belt – but they froze when you felt his tongue soothe over the new mark he’d made on your neck. It stung but you felt more pleasure than pain and, for a good minute, that pleasure was all you could focus on.
You felt his fingertips dance around the edge of your bra and heavy breaths left his lips when he brought his face back to yours, stopping just close enough to feel the pull of your lips, but far enough to still be able to look you in the eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, successfully undoing your bra in his first attempt – he wouldn’t have called himself an expert in that particular area; he was just determined to always get what he wanted and he wanted you.
You barely had enough time to hum in response before he lowered his face and reconnected your lips, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders in a motion so slow, you nearly threw him off the bed and did it yourself.
Instead, you chose to concentrate on finally undoing his belt, which wasn’t going well due to how badly your hands were shaking. But, once you finally succeeded and got through to the zipper of his jeans, it seemed like Jungkook was no longer so dead-set on taking this slow, either.
“Oh,” a sigh passed your lips when he threw your bra to a side and repositioned himself in-between your legs, his hips grinding into yours in a dangerously satisfying way that only left you wanting more. “Please, Jungkook.”
“I know,” he spoke and his normally melodious voice seemed deeper now.
He placed a kiss to your lips again and then pulled away to slide your jeans down your legs, tossing them aside before bringing his hands over the bare skin of your ankles, then up your calves, over your knees, and down your thighs again.
“Jungkook,” you tried again, “do something, please.”
“Hmm,” he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings as he cherished in the feeling of your skin right under his fingertips. He had to touch – to feel – all of you, so every bit of your body, every crevice and every wrinkle, remembered him.
Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally reached the waistband of your panties, and Jungkook was convinced he was going to die when he took them off of you – but he didn’t mind dying in the slightest, not if he got to see you like this first.
“I’m going to make you feel so,” he said, lifting your hips off the bed—just barely—so he could slide your panties down your legs, “so good.”
And he resolved to show you that he meant it, peppering the insides of your thighs with butterfly kisses that were the complete opposite of the tight grip he had on you. 
Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he felt the way your body shuddered in anticipation as his kisses neared your core and he could feel his own pants tighten uncomfortably around his now rock-hard length.
Placing a soft, chaste kiss right above your clit, Jungkook heard your deep breath and that encouraged him to keep going, applying more force to his kisses as he went lower. Finally, just as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets underneath you, he spread your lower lips with his tongue and lightly—so lightly, that you weren’t sure you didn’t just imagine this—licked his way up to your clit.
“Oh, shit,” you threw your head back and Jungkook – who’d already proved how much positive reinforcements meant to him – released a guttural breath that vibrated against your core.
The sensation added more to the blissful feeling of his tongue as he finally flattened it against your mound, licking and sucking with a loud and sloppy slurping sound.
You gasped when the previously teasing motions increased in speed and his tongue circled around your entrance, touching and tasting you in clockwise movements, never forgetting to pay special attention to the most sensitive spots on and around your clit.
“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook spoke breathlessly and you struggled to understand him not just because of how good he was making you feel with his mouth, but also because he did not pull away far enough and his words quavered against your core. “Talk to me.”
“I-I’m—that’s good,” you tried to say but your head was spinning, “so good, you—oh! Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”
Almost screaming out in surprise, you felt his fingers against your core, gentle and careful for the first second, but eager and energetic the next as Jungkook explored the wetness around your entrance. Bringing his tongue over your clit, he slid two of his fingers inside, ready to stop and wait for your reaction but that was not needed.
Arching your back off the bed, you sighed deeply and pleaded far louder than you’d intended, “p-please—”
Smirking to himself as you struggled to finish your sentences, he sped up his movements, not giving you a moment to collect your breath as he rubbed the insides of your walls with his fingers and sucked on your clit, the slow movements of his tongue contrasting with how quickly he was moving inside of you.
“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath against your core making your whole body tingle. He felt one of your hands touch his hair, grabbing onto it; softly at first, but gradually pulling harder when the circling motions of his fingers sped up. “Are you close, baby? Tell me.”
You were close – and the pet name only increased the burning pleasure inside of you – but, at that point, you were only capable of moaning weakly, “hmmm, yes. Don’t stop, please, d-don’t—”
Gasping again as Jungkook removed his mouth from you, readjusting himself on the bed so he could move his fingers in and out of you quicker, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to keep your sounds to a minimum.
“Nngh—so close,” you spoke and just then, you felt his thumb rub vicious circles on your clit. The motion was so delicious, you were forced to abandon your attempts to stay quiet, almost shouting when you felt your walls tighten, already so close to your edge.
He could feel you clench around his fingers – a feeling that did no good to the painful hardness in his pants – and applied more force to his movements, maintaining the same speed that allowed him to pay equal attention to your swollen clit and the soft walls inside of you.
“Come for me,” he said, his voice coarse. “I want to watch you come for me, baby, please.”
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groaned, barely able to catch your breath as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, circling and curling them in a way that was just right, until the knot in your stomach unraveled with a pop so strong, your whole body seemed to lift up from the bed as you whimpered, unable to make any other noise.
Watching you lose control of your body, Jungkook used his free hand to hold you down as he kept the pace up with his fingers while you rode out your high. Barely any sound left your mouth when you reached your peak but your heavy breaths and the rise and fall of your chest as you came still overflooded his senses.
Jungkook didn’t think it was healthy to need someone this much.
When you opened your eyes a moment later, still breathing heavily, he was hovering above you, leaning on one arm as he sucked on his fingers, exhaling shakily when you bit your lip.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you here like this,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to hear you sound like this.”
Still overwhelmed and momentarily rendered speechless by the strength of your climax, you replied to him by sitting up so you could reach his lips with yours.
Kissing him – and hearing him growl into the kiss as soon as your hips pressed into his, adding pressure against his hard length – you could distinctly taste yourself on his tongue, but Jungkook wasn’t going to give you a lot of time to analyze all the different sensations you were feeling; he flipped you over until he was on his back, and you were straddling his hips.
Being on top of him gave you a lot more control of the situation, but it also made the shaking of your hands all the more obvious. You lifted yourself off him slightly to slide his jeans and boxers down, not bothering with teasing him – even though, that would have been the fair thing to do, considering how slowly he’d undressed you before.
He didn’t regret that one bit – that was plain obvious in the darkness of his lustful eyes that followed your every move – but he did wish you went a little faster because each brush of your hands right by his length made him think he was going to explode.
“There’s a condom,” he said, swallowing, “in the pocket of my jacket.”
You had to look around the room to find the jacket and, when you located it, it still took you a few minutes to get the glittering wrapper out. Biting your lip as you made your way back to Jungkook – sprawled almost helplessly on your bed – you couldn’t help yourself.
“Do you always carry condoms around in the pocket of your—”
“No,” he replied, obviously not very interested in discussing his condom-bearing habits when you were unwrapping the packaging with your teeth after your fingers weren’t enough.
“Ah, so today was a special occasion?” you asked, smiling teasingly because your heart wasn’t really in this conversation, either – you could analyze why he’d brought the condoms with him later.
Unrolling some of the latex in your hands, your fingers finally touched his length as you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft. Jungkook exhaled with a low grunt, not particularly enjoying himself in a position this vulnerable – he didn’t think the simple act of putting a condom on had ever aroused him this much before – but not being able to do anything about it because this was you.
And if you wanted to take your time with the condom – since you seemed to double-check to make sure if it was really properly on; he thought you were just teasing him, really – then, he was going to let you take your time.
For the first twenty seconds, anyway.
Just as you raised your eyes to meet his, Jungkook sat up and pulled you closer to him, only lying back down on the bed when he made sure his arms were wrapped around your body, which was pressed against his as tightly as he could manage without breaking any of your ribs with his arms.
“If I wait any longer,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours, you could almost taste him as he spoke, “I’m really going to pass out.”
“Well,” you said, your heart beating wildly behind your ribcage and echoing against his chest, “then don’t wait.”
“Fuck,” was the last word that left his mouth before he connected your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss and sat up a bit to reach his length with his hand and position himself at your entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop.
“Mmhmm—oh,” your hum of approval was quick to turn into a shaky gasp as his length slid inside of you, stretching you out far more than his fingers had before.
He watched your facial expression the whole time, entering you slowly, inch by inch, so he could stop if he noticed any pain. Mercifully, the only thing he noticed in your eyes was a silent plea to keep going – well, that, and the fact that you did most of the job for him by lowering yourself on him until he was fully inside of you – and Jungkook was sure of it: he was most certainly going to lose it.
“I’m not going to last long,” he warned breathlessly, “you’re s-so tight—you feel so good—I—”
His grip on you had loosened, which allowed you to place one hand on his chest and push him into the bed, until his head landed back on the pillow. As soon as he bottomed out inside of you, he stopped and you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a second, before you looked up at him again and lifted your hips.
“F-fuck,” Jungkook whispered, his hands clutching your hips so tightly, he was probably going to leave imprints there.
Lowering yourself on him again, you sighed deeply, unsure what brought you more pleasure – the sight of his starved gaze and swollen lips as he allowed you to set the pace, or the feeling of his length, caressing your inner walls and reaching places so deep inside of you, you could have used a warning.
“Y-you’re so—mm, good,” you mewled, your hips rising and falling on top of him as you tried to get used to the feeling but failed, your walls clenching around him each time you moved.
“Baby,” Jungkook said and it was almost a whine, “I need you to go faster. Can you do that for me?”
“Hmm,” you weren’t sure what he was saying.
Your senses were malfunctioning as you lost yourself in the feeling, so, instead of going faster, you lowered yourself until you could feel your walls hug his entire length. You stayed still for a moment, but hearing him sigh in desperation, you finally started to move again – grinding your hips against his quicker.
“O-oh,” the sudden change of pace took him off guard as Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him was pure bliss. “That’s good. Y-you’re doing so good.”
You continued to move on top of him, grinding your hips in large and smaller figure-eights, as Jungkook slid his hands up and down your sides, feeling your silky skin and gently kneading your breasts. He brought his fingertips over your sensitive nipples and, noticing how your breath got caught in your throat as soon as he did, he applied more pressure to his touch.
“Jungkook,” you said weakly and then completely lost your voice when he sat up – suddenly reaching even deeper inside of you, even though that probably shouldn’t have even been possible – and brought his tongue to your nipple, carefully toying with it at first, and then sucking harder later.
Your hips were still moving against his but you were losing your stamina, not at all helped by the fact that his smallest touch nearly tipped you over the edge.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sighed and, somewhere in his own name, he heard the request for him to take over.
Fully immersed in the feeling of having you on top of him, Jungkook had no plans to change the position. He pulled away from your breasts, licking his lips, and then, finding a more fitting position on the bed, he locked both of your arms behind you by wrapped a hand around your waist and lifting his hips off the mattress.
He roughly thrust into you once – and then once more because he couldn’t stop himself – and then paused to gauge your reaction. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed, but your parted lips and the excited movement of your hips as they met his when he moved, was a clear indication that you didn’t mind the faster pace.
“Look at me,” he instructed, not moving until you did. “Good girl.”
Finally, he slammed his hips into yours again, this time not pausing for a single second, even though both of you were completely breathless already. His length drilled into you, rubbing your walls until the fire in your stomach started to spread and you involuntarily closed your eyes again, throwing your head back in pleasure.
“Jungkook—”
“What did I tell you, baby?” he asked, holding your hands behind your back with one of his arms, as he used his other hand to bring your face to his again. You opened your eyes. “That’s it. Are you close?”
“Hmm—I-I’m—” the next words didn’t come out when Jungkook straightened his posture and thrust into you with enough force to send you backwards until you were laying flat on your back again. “Fuck, I’m really close.”
His hips continued the relentless pace but he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going, especially with the way you squeezed around him each time he re-entered your warmth. You could already feel your orgasm creeping in as you bit your lip and felt your vision go out of focus, the ceiling of your room spinning as the whole place seemed to shake from the force of his hips.
“Don’t look away,” Jungkook spoke, breathing heavily and setting himself up for failure because he nearly collapsed as soon as you returned your eyes to his – all dark and clouded with near-euphoric delight. “I want you to look at me when you come, yeah? Will you do that for me, baby—please?”
“Y-yes—” you managed, barely getting the word out before you felt Jungkook readjust his weight by leaning on one arm and lowering his other one to your core.
He brought his thumb over your clit and, matching the speed of his hips thrusting in and out of you, he began to rub circles on your already over-stimulated center.
“Jungkook!” you weren’t sure if you were screaming, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh, fuck, fuck—right there!”
“Y-yeah? Does that feel good, baby?,” he groaned, “I can’t hold out for much longer, so I’m going to need you to come for me. Hmm?”
“I’m—please, fuck—” your pleas turned into an incomprehensible mess when Jungkook applied more pressure to your clit, flicking it before rubbing it in circles again, and you were completely done for.
Throwing your head back against the mattress and lifting your hips to meet his, you reached your high and Jungkook – cursing and trying his hardest not to lose his balance – bit his lip because he knew he was going to follow right after you.
His hips had slowed, although only a little, as he continued the assault on your senses by thrusting his throbbing member into you and simultaneously rubbing your clit all through your orgasm. 
Your warm walls that hugged his length tightened around him when you came and, groaning loudly, he felt his own climax take over him. He stopped moving with one final thrust into you, loud grunts mixed with your name leaving his lips as he released himself into the condom.
Breathing heavily but still not getting enough oxygen, you both stayed still as you tried to recover.
“F-fuck,” Jungkook exhaled when he regained some control of his body. His eyes met yours and he did not hesitate before adding, “I love you. I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”
You allowed a heavy moment of silence to pass as you watched him. Then, you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought your lips to his. The kiss may have been less enthusiastic than the one in the hallway earlier tonight, but it still didn’t lack any heat.
“I love you,” you replied, the words as pointless as they were necessary, because your feelings for each other had been obvious from the very beginning, but neither of you confronted them. “I’ve loved you for much longer.”
“No,” he disagreed, kissing you again as he pulled out of you and rolled off to the edge of the bed so he could discard of the condom. Turning to look at you one more time before standing up, he said, very matter-of-fact, “I’ve loved you my whole life. Through every happy moment and every fuck-up, and every—”
With your lips stretching into a smile, you warned, “don’t try to one-up me with your pillowtalk.”
He already had his back turned to you as he walked towards the bin in the corner of your room, but you heard him laugh. When he turned around to return to you, there was a wide smile on his bright, red lips, still wet and swollen from kissing you.
“That’s not pillowtalk,” he countered, laying down next to you and draping an arm over your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck with a delighted hum, “that’s just me telling you what I was supposed to tell you on the day I talked to you at my party.”
“I’m glad you told me now,” you replied, lifting one of your hands to touch his disheveled hair and the few stray curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead, “even if you did cause a scene today.”
The softness of your touch was almost the exact opposite of the hidden razor-sharp meaning behind your words. Jungkook – who’d closed his eyes so he could breathe you in – suddenly lifted himself up on his elbows and gave you an inquiring look.
“I did not cause a scene,” he said, not in a very defensive manner because he did not think he needed to defend himself, “I was peacefully waiting for you to come back home. You caused a scene when you saw me.”
“I—oh, wow,” you scoffed in surprise, “you really are an expert at blame-shifting.”
He would have protested – and he was going to – but laying here next to you, with not a single piece of clothing preventing him from feeling the softness of your skin, he just shrugged. There were far more important things to focus on, he decided as he traced indiscernible patterns on your navel.
“Don’t do that again, though, okay?” you asked him then.
Smiling – because he was proud of his title as the resident Little Shit – Jungkook replied, “which part, exactly?”
The feeling of his fingertips dancing on your stomach was distracting, but you persevered for the greater good.
“Don’t change all of your plans if I spend time with someone else,” you said, swallowing. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”
“I won’t.”
His promise was brief but he leaned down to kiss you to seal it, and the feeling of his lips against yours had more impact than just his words alone. Then, pulling away a moment too soon, Jungkook surprised you with a warning look in his eyes.
“But don’t ask me not to kiss you in public,” he said. “Don’t ask me not to hold your hand. Don’t—”
You blinked, not following him. “W-wait, why? I wasn’t going to ask.”
“No, but you already did. At the last party we went to?” he said and then tried to jog your memory by adding, in a vexed tone, “when you were talking to Brock, and I—”
The party – and the long, long conversation that followed – returned to your mind even before the mention of Brock. You were just trying to understand why Jungkook was thinking about all of that now.
“Well, that’s because you were being a possessive dipshit,” you told him as an explanation, not an excuse.
You weren’t apologizing for standing up for yourself when you felt like your dignity was threatened, and he didn’t need you to. What he needed, was for you to understand that:
“I still am a possessive dipshit,” he said with the most unapologetic grin you’d ever seen adorning his features.
“Oh, yeah?” you raised your eyebrows, the mock-surprise completing your sarcastic look, “would not have guessed.”
“Funny,” he leaned down to kiss you again before making it clear, “I can’t stop myself from wanting everyone to know—”
“But they do know,” you said, cutting him off but not sharply, “everyone knows, Jungkook. You’ve made your point.”
“No, people still have doubts about us,” he said, “they’re still not fully convinced that you’re—that we’re together,” he paused, flashing back to the night at the party and remembering the words you’d said to him then, “but they don’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about us. And I don’t want to imply that I own you or that you’re an object—or anything of the sort. I know you’re a person. You’re a great person. And you belong to yourself. You’re yours. B-but can you be a little bit mine, too?”
“I am,” you said and, even though you may not have always liked it, this was the truth. There was no way around it. So, pressing a soft kiss to his waiting lips, you admitted, “I’ve always been yours as much as I’ve been mine.”
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noona-clock · 4 years ago
Text
What’s Your Sign?: Capricorn
Genre: Dance Studio!AU
Pairing: Jaebum x You (Female!Reader)
Warnings: None
Words: 5,693
Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜
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It was clear he didn’t want to be here.
And by ‘he’ you meant the dark-haired guy in your dance lesson whose facial expression betrayed that he would rather be anywhere else and doing anything else right now.
But you were a dance instructor. You’d been teaching for almost five years by now, so you had seen your fair share of begrudging students.
(Though, if you were being completely honest with yourself, none of the begrudging students you’d had so far had been quite this handsome... but that is absolutely besides the point.)
As you introduced yourself to your new class and began to go over the basics, you mentally prepared yourself to spend a little extra time with him -- the handsome, begrudging student. You’d discovered that some one-on-one time with the dancers who didn’t actually want to be dancers went a long way in helping them get more comfortable and enjoy themselves.
Usually, people who had no desire to take your class were being forced by a third party -- for some reason or another -- and it was pretty clear why they had no desire to take your class: their dancing skills left a lot to be desired.
But, only a few minutes into your instructions, you were more than surprised and shocked to see that this guy actually had some natural talent.
A lot of it.
But he also didn’t have a partner, so that one-on-one time you’d prepared for was incredibly easy to manage.
After you’d told everyone to pair off and start practicing the basic waltz square you’d just shown them, you weaved your way through the parquet floor to him with a somewhat cautious smile on your face.
If he wasn’t thrilled to be in your class in the first place, it was safe to assume he wouldn’t be thrilled for you to be his partner, but... there wasn’t much you could do about it now!
“Hi,” you greeted softly when you approached. “I noticed there wasn’t a partner for you, so I’m happy to --”
“Sure,” he muttered.
Of course, his terse interruption made you pause, but you recovered quickly and simply smiled at him. You then stepped closer to him, resting one hand on his shoulder and extending your other arm out to the side so the two of you could get into a waltzing stance.
As soon as he’d slid one hand around your waist and took the other one, grasping your fingers firmly, you waited for him to lead into the four-step box formation.
...And you almost yelped with surprise when he did.
His hold on your waist and fingers quickly became even more firm, and he pushed you subtly but confidently backward, dancing with you smoothly.
You’re not sure why this surprised you so much.
But it did.
And that made you a little uneasy.
“So,” you breathed, clearing your throat quietly. “What’s your name?”
His gaze had been inconspicuously aimed at the floor, most likely watching his feet, but it shifted to look at you when you asked your question.
“Jaebum,” he answered without hesitation, though his voice was still very brusque.
“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a slight dip of your chin. “I’m Y/N.”
“Yes, I know,” he murmured. “You introduced yourself about five minutes ago.”
You raised your eyebrows, unsure if you were bewildered or offended by his incredibly impolite response.
Probably a bit of both.
“...Right,” you said. But you had to maintain your composure and civility, so you added, “What brings you here?”
Rather than answering quickly and succinctly like he had previously, Jaebum simply furrowed his brow at you.
“You just seem less than enthusiastic, so I was curious as to why you’re here in the first place,” you explained, figuring you could at least be honest to counteract his almost-rudeness.
His forehead smoothed out, and he tilted his head to signal that you did have a point.
“One of my best friends is getting married in a few months, and he wants the wedding party to do this... dance routine.”
“And you’re not too excited about it?”
Jaebum shook his head.
“Well, if it helps, you’re a really good dancer.”
Again, Jaebum furrowed his brow at you, shooting you a confused, sidelong glance. “I am?”
He sounded genuinely perplexed which made you genuinely perplexed. He really didn’t know? Had he never taken one single dance class before?
“Yeah,” you chuckled. “You’re a natural.”
And naturally gorgeous, you thought.
Oh my god, why did you think that?
Besides the fact that it was true, of course.
To distract yourself from that thought, you added, “You haven’t taken any sort of class before?”
“No, never.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you replied with the tiniest smirk you could muster. “You’ve barely even looked at your feet this whole time, and you haven’t tripped me once.”
Of course, Jaebum instinctively looked down at his feet and almost immediately stumbled.
“See? Once you looked down and thought too much about it, you messed up. You’ve got instinct.”
An expression of clear discomfort flashed across his face, and rather than insisting that you knew what you were talking about, you simply kept silent. You were only planning on continuing this exercise for another minute or so, and you would rather not make him any more uncomfortable than he already clearly was.
But when that minute was up... you realized... that you didn’t want to stop dancing with him.
Oh, boy. 
A student who had made you feel uneasy twice in the first half-hour of class.
That was quite unprecedented.
And... very disturbing.
When the two of you got to a good stopping point, you murmured under your breath that it was time to move on.
Jaebum responded immediately, pausing his movements and loosening his hold on your hand and waist to allow you to step away.
“All right, great job,” you said, turning away to face the rest of the class and doing your best to avoid any sort of eye contact with Jaebum. “I know it may seem repetitive, but this is the foundation of a waltz. You need to be really familiar with these steps, know how to do them in your sleep, before you can move on.”
You had everyone go through the steps on their own while you played different music tracks, helping them find the four-count beat in each song and showing they could waltz to really any style of music.
All in all, it was a pretty typical class.
Except for Jaebum.
You had tried to get him -- and the way he’d briefly made you feel -- out of your mind, and while you had been mostly successful when you hadn’t been looking at him... you had been the opposite of successful when you had.
And once the hour was up, you found yourself doing something you truly hadn’t ever expected to do. The thought had never crossed your mind, yet you couldn’t stop your body from walking toward Jaebum, an anxious grin plastered on your lips.
“I was just --” you began, though you were quickly interrupted by a departing student who thanked you for a great class. “Oh, sure, you’re welcome.”
You pressed your lips together then, your gaze following the student and waiting for her to vanish through the studio door.
When she did, you looked back to Jaebum and saw that he was already looking at you, his gaze expectant. You jumped a little -- though, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised that he was looking at you. You had been just about to say something to him.
After letting out a breathless chuckle, you inhaled sharply and continued on from earlier. “I was just wondering -- you said your friend is wanting to do some sort of routine? For his wedding?”
Jaebum nodded. “During the reception. The bridal party is all going to do a... ballroom dance... thing.”
“Do you know if the choreography is finished?”
“I believe so,” he answered, slightly lowering his brows.
You gulped.
“I -- I mean, I would be happy to help you learn it if you want to -- have the time. You could stay after class or come in whenever you’re free. I can shift things around if I need to, this job is pretty flexib --”
“Okay.”
And you were surprised yet again.
He had actually said yes? Even though you definitely sounded a bit like a bumbling idiot right now?
“Oh, good!” you said with a relieved sigh, your lips spreading into a grin.
“I can’t stay much longer today, but if you have time tomorrow?”
For some reason your instinct was to reply immediately -- in the positive, of course -- but you forced yourself to actually pull up your schedule in your head to look and make sure.
“I’m very free in the afternoon,” you told him after a few moments. “From after lunch until about four.”
Jaebum nodded tersely and said, “I can be here at two” before murmuring his thanks and heading toward the exit.
You stood there, in the same exact spot, for about five minutes after he left, mainly because you were dumbstruck. You had no idea why you’d done that, and you had no idea why you were so relieved (and excited) that he had accepted your offer.
You had literally never offered private lessons -- private free lessons! -- to a student before. Many students had requested them, absolutely, but you had never offered.
The only reason you could think of as to why you’d done this was because Jaebum was so... intriguing. He fit the stereotype almost exactly for the “Perfect Man.” Tall, dark, and handsome. Strong and silent.
...And did you mention handsome?
Very handsome.
But that was actually more of a reason not to give him private lessons. You wanted to spend more time with him, of course. But you shouldn’t.
You really, really, really shouldn’t.
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Rather than wait in jittery anticipation for Jaebum to show up, you spent the first part of your day keeping as busy as you could.
You had two classes basically back-to-back in the morning, which definitely helped keep your mind off the perfectly handsome man arriving at the studio in the early afternoon. And once those classes finished, you took a lunch break and headed to a nearby deli for one of your favorite sandwiches.
Between lunch and Jaebum’s arrival time, you decided to clean the entire studio from top to bottom because that was just what you did when you were stressed or nervous: you cleaned.
A small cleaning crew visited the studio once a week to keep the floors and mirrors gleaming, of course, but it had been a little while since you’d wiped down your office and deep cleaned the reception area.
You dusted and vacuumed and scrubbed and decluttered and even rearranged some furniture just to change things up -- for almost two hours.
And it wasn’t until a quarter to two that you realized you’d made a rather large mistake.
Cleaning and rearranging furniture for two hours was hard work, and now -- fifteen minutes before Jaebum was set to arrive -- you found yourself exhausted and sweaty.
I mean, you were exhausted and sweaty a lot. Obviously. You were a dance teacher. 
But the exhausted and sweaty parts of your day were always at the end of class, after you’d done all the work, not at the beginning.
...And your classes typically did not involve an incredibly good-looking man whom you were nervous about spending time with.
After putting away the cleaning supplies in the closet, you quickly ran into the bathroom to splash some water on your face. You then headed into your office and dug around in your bag for the emergency vial of perfume you kept in there -- just in case.
Thank goodness you did because it really came in handy in this moment.
Just as you stepped out of your office and back into the studio, closing the door behind you, you heard the clack of footsteps on the dance floor.
“Hello?” a soft but deep voice called out.
You jumped a little, your gaze snapping over to the studio entrance and landing on Jaebum.
A quick glance to the clock above the mirrors showed you that he was almost ten minutes early -- and that only heightened your intrigue.
You loved a man who was early.
“Hi!” you blurted out suddenly, realizing you hadn’t yet answered him. “Hi, come on in. Welcome.”
Jaebum reached into his pocket as he walked over to you, retrieving his phone and tapping on the screen with a wrinkled forehead. “My friend sent me the video of the choreography,” he muttered, his eyes flashing up at you briefly over his phone screen.
“Oh, perfect,” you grinned. You came to a stop in front of him, resting your hands on your hips as you waited for him to find the video and show you.
“Here,” he mumbled before doing just that -- turning his phone around and showing you the video.
You leaned in, and only then did you realize this was a bad idea.
Obviously, watching something on a person’s phone meant you had to be standing rather close to that person, leaning in until your heads were almost touching.
And that’s exactly what was happening right now.
You were standing rather close to Jaebum, your heads almost touching.
And, boy, did he smell amazing.
It took almost every ounce of willpower in you to concentrate on the video and not on how amazing he smelled.
When the video finished, you took a step back, hoping you hadn’t backed away from him too obviously. If you were going to be learning this choreography together, you certainly didn’t want him to think you couldn’t stand being close to him. Because that wasn’t even true! 
It was just... difficult. In a good way. Kind of.
“That seems fairly straightforward,” you said, pushing all these thoughts out of your mind as best as you could.
“Yeah?” Jaebum asked, turning to look at you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Absolutely. You want to give it a shot?”
He nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it up on the rack by the door before joining you in the middle of the dancefloor. He set up his phone against the mirror, and you began guiding him through the choreography, step-by-step.
Only a few minutes in, and Jaebum stopped you. “How... how do you know the routine already? We watched it once, and you’re not even referring back to the video.”
A frown curved your lips, and you lifted your shoulders into a shrug. “I... don’t know? I just remember it.”
“Seriously?” he asked with a soft chuckle of disbelief. “How?”
“I don’t know,” you repeated. “I’ve always been this way, with dance especially. I can just picture it in my mind.”
“So, you have a photographic memory.”
...How had you never realized that before?
“I guess so?” you chuckled. “I just never thought it was different than what anyone else could do.”
A half-smile tugged at Jaebum’s lips as he got back into the dancing position, and he murmured, “No. I absolutely cannot do that.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m the dance teacher,” you retorted, trying to suppress a smirk.
He laughed softly, and you ignored the fluttering in your heart.
You spent the next hour and a half going through the first part of the routine, and even though Jaebum claimed he wasn’t able to learn choreography like you did, he still caught on quickly.
“No, you’re honestly doing a great job,” you assured him after deciding to stop for the day. “I told you, you’re a natural dancer. You have instinct!”
Jaebum simply shook his head, but you saw the smile he was trying to hold back.
As he went back toward the door to retrieve his jacket, he glanced over his shoulder at you and said, “Are you free to keep going? Go over the rest of the routine?”
“Absolutely! I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that for a wedding.”
“What if it was a birthday party?”
“Yes, maybe.”
You heard Jaebum’s deep, low chuckle, and even though you’d just spent over an hour touching him and dancing with him and being extremely close to him, the sound of his laugh still sent a shiver down your spine.
What was this guy doing to you?
“What does your schedule look like?” he asked as he slipped his jacket back on.
“Oh, here -- let me write it down for you,” you said, taking a step toward your office.
“Or --” Jaebum blurted out.
You paused, raising your eyebrows and shifting your gaze to him.
“Or you could... just text it to me.” He still had his phone handy from playing the dance video on repeat during the lesson, and he held it up as to emphasize his suggestion.
“Oh!” you chirped. “Well -- I mean, yeah, sure. That -- that works.”
Jaebum opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped himself. He narrowed his eyes slightly at you and said, “If I just tell it to you, will you remember it without having to write it down?”
Your eyes widened with minor panic. “...Yes?” you replied uncertainly even though you were absolutely certain you could do that.
He let out a soft, breathy chuckle and shook his head.
After he told you his phone number, he murmured his thanks for the lesson and then headed through the door without another word.
You waited approximately ten seconds before scrambling to your office, fishing your phone out of your bag, and quickly entering the number into your contacts.
You wouldn’t have forgotten it, but... still. You didn’t want to take any chances. It wasn’t every day that an incredibly attractive and fascinating guy gave you his phone number.
Not that you would use it for anything other than sending him your schedule.
But. Yeah.
Jaebum was absolutely incredibly attractive and fascinating.
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Either Jaebum was not a busy man or he...
Well, you weren’t actually sure what the other most viable option was.
Because the only things you could think were that he just really wanted to learn this dance routine for the wedding reception... or he just really wanted to spend time with you.
And that was definitely just wishful thinking.
Either way, Jaebum was -- apparently -- able to fit in a private lesson whenever your schedule allowed.
Did he not work? Or was he taking a lot of time off for this? Or maybe his job allowed him to be flexible like yours did.
There were so many questions you wanted to ask him and so little courage you had to actually ask them.
When he came back two days after your first private lesson, you began the lesson with those questions still occupying your thoughts but ended it with another question on your mind entirely.
And, for some reason (seemingly everything about Jaebum was a mystery, I guess, including your reactions to him), you found the question tumbling from your lips as he was putting his jacket back on to leave.
You had just spent another hour and a half teaching him the second half of the choreography; another hour and a half touching and dancing with him. Maybe that had bolstered your courage enough?
“Why do you not want to do this?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “The dance at the wedding.”
Jaebum paused for a moment before turning to face you. “I just... What -- what do you mean?”
You felt your cheeks warms, but you continued on. “You were just so... not happy to be in that first class, and... I don’t know. Whenever I bring it up, you get this look on your face.”
His eyebrows flew halfway up his forehead. “I do?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled.
He stood there just for a second before letting out a sigh and taking a few steps toward you. “To be honest, I’m not thrilled about having to dance in front of a room full of people I don’t really know.”
While you couldn’t exactly relate to the sentiment, you still understood what it was like to be scared to do something. Or, at the very least, be uncomfortable about it.
“You’re going to do a great job,” you assured him, your heart starting to skip a beat here and there as he got closer to you.
Seriously? You had just been dancing with him. Touching him. 
“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he said, shaking his head. “But... I’m just not... confident about it. And I don’t like that.”
Jaebum was such the epitome of the Strong and Silent type -- so far, at least -- that you couldn’t even imagine him not being fully confident in himself. And the way he danced definitely wasn’t something to be insecure about it!
“I don’t know,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t see the point in doing a choreographed dance at a wedding.”
Okay, now that made you laugh.
“Because it’s fun,” you chuckled. “Receptions are basically just a big party, and most parties involve dancing, right?”
“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “But they don’t have to. And you can dance without doing some full-fledged routine.”
“This is true,” you agreed, though it was mainly just to appease him.
“In my opinion, weddings should be about the marriage. The relationship. The vows you make. Not cutting a cake or a DJ playing viral songs no one really wants to hear.”
...Well. You couldn’t argue with him there.
“So, when it’s your turn to get married, you don’t even need to have a reception.”
And your heart was acting funny again. Thinking about Jaebum getting married both made you hopeful that it would be your wedding, as well, and upset that -- realistically -- it would not be. You were just his dance teacher, and he was only taking lessons until the wedding. It was highly unlikely he would come back to continue his education, and even though you had his phone number now... why would you ever have a reason to use it?
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I absolutely plan on eloping. Or only inviting my family and having just a small ceremony.”
“Ah, good. Now I know not to be offended when I don’t receive an invitation.”
Um... okay? Why? Had you just said that?
Thankfully, Jaebum simply smiled that tiny half-smile of his and let out a soft chuckle.
Was it weird that after spending time with Jaebum only three times you already knew his signature smile?
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Despite the fact you had taught Jaebum the entire dance backwards and forwards and there was literally nothing else you could do to help him, he continued to request private lessons. He continued to show up whenever you had a free hour or two, no matter the time or day.
And while this behavior would usually suggest some sort of romantic feelings on his part, he also continued to be Strong and Silent.
He talked to you during your lessons, of course, but he was never talkative. He was always polite, but he wasn’t super... friendly.
So, in conclusion, you were still as mystified and confused by Jaebum as ever.
He didn’t like dancing but he was amazing at it.
He didn’t need you to teach him anymore but he still showed up at your studio.
You just wished you could peek into that brain of his -- just for a minute! -- to see what he was thinking.
And, because you were his teacher, you never felt comfortable asking why. Why was he still asking for lessons when he didn’t need them? Why was he always so guarded around you? Why did he never ask about your personal life?
I swear, if Jaebum ever asked if you had a boyfriend, your heart would absolutely combust.
Maybe one day you would ask him all those questions, but by then, he wouldn’t be coming to your classes any longer, and what would be the point?
Apparently, you were thinking too much about all of this because, all of a sudden, Jaebum’s voice broke through the haze in your mind.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice forceful enough to make it obvious it wasn’t the first time he’d said it.
“Sorry,” you replied hastily with a shake of your head. “Zoned out.”
“Did you hear what I said?” he asked as he stood by the coat rack, getting ready to put his jacket back on before he left with hardly a word.
That had become his routine after every class, and you had come to expect nothing different.
“Hmm? Oh -- no, sorry. What did you say?”
“I said the wedding is this weekend, so I won’t need to come back any more.”
...Oh.
That was not what you wanted to hear.
“Oh,” you replied, doing your best to sound... well, not upset about it. “Well, I know you’re going to do an amazing job --”
“I’m more nervous than I thought I would be,” he interrupted.
You froze, your mouth slightly hanging open and your unspoken words hanging from your lips.
But then you quickly pulled yourself together and said, “You are?”
He nodded tersely.
But he didn’t elaborate.
So, you bit. “...Why?”
“Because I know how to dance it with you, and what if it’s different with someone else as my partner?”
“I mean, yeah, it’ll be different,” you confirmed. “But you know the steps through and through. Even if the bridesmaid is a terrible dancer, you’ll be able to carry her through it, I promise.”
Jaebum let out a sigh and his head tilted forward, his chin practically touching his chest.
“You’ll be fi --”
“What I really wanted to say is that I wish it could be you and not someone else,” he said, interrupting you again in a quiet but strong voice.
...You stared at him.
And blinked.
“...Excuse me?”
Without hesitating, Jaebum strode over to you, only stopping when he was as close to you as he was while you’d danced.
You tilted your head to look up into his eyes, though yours were still too wide with shock to say anything.
“I... I feel more comfortable dancing with you than doing... anything else. And the reason I kept asking to come back even after you taught me the whole dance is because... I just wanted to be with you.”
Okay, you were fairly certain you were no longer breathing.
You certainly couldn’t speak at the moment, so it was very possible that your heart and lungs had just stopped working.
“You are... incredible,” he continued. “Confident and talented and kind and beautiful.”
You repeated the word ‘beautiful’, though you couldn’t even hear your own voice so you must have simply mouthed it.
...Was he really saying all this to you?
To you?
And since it was obvious you weren’t going to actually say anything yet, Jaebum continued.
“You’re why I haven’t stopped coming back. I only joined your class because my friend practically forced me; he’s one of my closest friends, and I would do anything for him, but I truly could not care less about this dumb wedding dance. I would have happily fumbled my way through it if you hadn’t been so... wonderful.”
Okay, at this point, you kind of felt like you were more shocked to hear this many words coming out of his mouth at once. You’d been teaching Jaebum for almost three months, and you were fairly certain he hadn’t said more than two sentences back-to-back.
And you, who normally had no trouble speaking, could only reply with a whispered, “...Really?”
Jaebum simply nodded, and you felt more at ease. A simple nod was much more in character.
But you had no idea what else to say because there was too much you wanted to say.
Apparently, your racing thoughts showed through on your face because Jaebum stopped waiting for you to say something. “I... don’t really want to invite you to be my date to the wedding since... I’m a groomsman and all. You would have to sit by yourself, and I don’t want to make you do that.”
Ah, so, he was thoughtful, too.
“So... maybe you’d like to meet up after the wedding? I mean, like, go out. Not meet up. Go out. On a... date.”
“Yes,” you replied, finally able to force some actual words out of your mouth. “Yes, I would love to. Please.”
And then, Jaebum’s lips curved into a smile.
A real smile.
A full-on, teeth-showing smile -- not the half-smile you’d gotten used to.
Your heart stopped.
I mean, it felt like it stopped.
And you were immensely glad he hadn’t smiled like this before because oh my god. You wouldn’t have been able to go on teaching him. You would’ve fainted.
Even now, you had to reach out and grab a hold of his arms to steady yourself.
But Jaebum must have thought you were going in for the hug, so took another step closer to you and slid his arms around your waist, pressing his fingers into the small of your back and enveloping you in his embrace.
It took you approximately .0001 seconds to melt into him, feeling the strong wall of his chest and the secure cage of his arms around you.
You’d danced with him countless times by now. His hands had held your waist for hours, and yet... You had never experienced this sensation before.
And you knew right then and there that you never wanted to live another day without experiencing it again.
OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, SAGITTARIUS, AQUARIUS, PISCES
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beomglocks · 4 years ago
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sk8ter boi ; c.bg
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summary : he was a boy, she was a girl. can i make it anymore obvious?
pairing : skaterboy!beomgyu x reader
warnings & other : reader already has a child with yeonjun ok, beomgyu still pining after all these years, based off queen avril lavigne’s sk8ter boi song, listen while reading if you want 
w/c : 2.1K (i may have gotten carried away)
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"where'd you get that note and roses from?" your friend maria asks you when you get into class. you wipe away your smile quickly, already knowing who the mystery person was. "i don't know."
yeah, of course you knew. how could you not when the boy oh so clumsily shoved them in your locker while you were literally turning the corner. he tried to act like he wasn't doing anything but he was clearly caught. he tried to play it off in the best way possible and smooth talk his way into a conversation with you but you shut him down due to the bell ringing.
"oh- oh ok sure...yeah," beomgyu stumbled over his words, nervousness eating away at him with you being here. "yo gyu you coming? i just finished fixing my drum kit," his friend, jeongin, calls him over, interrupting your already over conversation.
"you should go...but thanks for whatever you just threw in my locker," you laugh. he nods hesitantly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "dude," jeongin now stands in your vicinity. he looks at you and beomgyu before pulling away his best friend to where the spare band room was.
"well open the letter, we wanna know who your little secret admirer is," maria says, leaning onto your desk. your other friends agree, eager to know who was pining over you. you laugh nervously before opening it. you're not sure how they'll react to finding out that it's beomgyu.
you see, you wouldn't exactly call yourself the prettiest girl in the school but hell it sure was close. almost everyone would compliment you every day even if it was something minor like a change in your nail color. you kind of prided yourself in that, not to gas yourself up or anything.
someone like beomgyu...well. he wasn't exactly the ideal guy, to put it simply. he was a skater boy, he hung out with the "simple boys" who skated and did music and hung out around the skate parks after school. he wasn't the scholar type like soobin or the athlete type like yeonjun, he was simple.
you liked simple but your friends didn't. they had preferences for people like soobin and yeonjun, not people like beomgyu. you could probably guess they felt like beomgyu was the bottom of the barrel, like a roach on their foot not worthy of their time.
you pull the letter out of the envelope. for some reason without even trying, you could smell his cologne all over it. you want to smile at the obvious try hard gesture but your friends don't allow it. "what the fuck is that smell, it's so strong," maria gags. you roll your eyes at her dramatics. "it doesn't smell that bad."
"yes the fuck it does," she retorts. "just see what it says." you read over the letter, smiling at certain parts where you could tell he'd done his research on the things you liked. "it's from beomgyu," you say when you finish the letter. you already knew this anyway but maria's eyes go wide and she suddenly snatches the letter from your grasp. "hey!"
"CHOI beomgyu?" she asks while she reads the letter herself. "yeah?" you confirm.
your other friends mumble amongst themselves and you can hear some snicker. "y/n you could do so much better. beomgyu is like a street rat or something. don't do that to yourself," she laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever said. you don't think beomgyu's that bad but you also don't stand up for him, simply biting your lip as she continues.
"he barely comes to school and when he does all he does is sleep. he skates with those other weirdos and thinks he's gonna make it big with his shitty guitar playing- i mean have you heard him?" she rolls her eyes, throwing the letter back on your desk. "you should go out with yeonjun, i think yall would be a cute couple. the prettiest girl with the coolest guy, your babies would be so damn cute."
"babies?!" you laugh at her ridiculousness. "yes! have you seen choi yeonjun?" she sighs in content. "anyways, don't pay beomgyu any mind because he's not gonna make it in life. go for someone like yeonjun and please for the love of god throw that letter away!"
you never did throw the letter away. you sigh as you think back to your high school years. you had just found it hidden behind one of the closet drawers while you were looking for valkyrie's binkie. she was crying so much since her father had gone out for the day and you were stuck taking care of her, as always.
you wonder how beomgyu was doing. you both talked after the fact but fell off during college since he had gone off to do his own thing. you didn't know what that thing was but you were proud of him nonetheless. you finished high school, went to college, got a good paying job, and were now married with a kid. all at the young age of 21. the typical life, you figure.
you're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your child crying in the next room. "shit," you mumble to yourself. you leave the letter in your drawer and head back to the living room with the binkie. "valkyrie~" you sing song.
she continues crying, not giving a fuck about your efforts to calm her. she was usually a bit of a daddy's girl. "val please stop crying," you exasperate. "daddy's not coming home until late today. cut me some slack babygirl."
you slip the binkie into her mouth but her shrill cries go right through it. "let me go see if you need a diaper change," you mutter.
before you can even get up from the couch you hear your phone ring from somewhere in the couch. "shit where did i put my phone?" you put valkyrie down to look for your phone but it stops ringing before you can begin searching. you wait for it to ring again you find it between the cracks of the couch.
"oh hey mari," you say in confusion. after high school ended, you and maria kind of fell off along with all your other popular friends. you still had that clout all throughout college given who you were dating but you kind of strayed away from her. you guys were still on speaking terms though but this call was odd since it had been months since the last time she called.
"GIRL-" she pauses for a moment, still as dramatic as ever. "what it is mari? val won't stop crying she needs attention," you sigh, looking over at your daughter. her cries had gotten softer but she was still grumpy about not being with her father.
"girl turn on your tv to MTV right now- like right now before you miss it!" she says hurriedly. "this better be good you know i dont watch those shows," you say into the phone. you place the phone between your ear and shoulder so you can hold valkyrie while watching whatever it was that maria wanted you to watch.
then you see it. "is that-?" you begin. "CHOI beomgyu! yes girl!" maria finishes your sentence. she's right. there he is, the boy you were just thinking about was on your tv screen. "he's famous?" you ask.
maria sucks her teeth, "apparently after high school and like a year or two of college, he dropped out to pursue a music career and i guess it worked out for him." you nod even though she can't see you. "he signed with a label and now he's in like some super fucking famous band, look at him," she continues.
you stare at your tv screen in silence, watching beomgyu have the time of his life on the MTV stage. he really did get good on his guitar. the camera pans to the drummer and your eyes go wide when you see jeongin. wow, they really stayed together this whole time.
"he's fine as hell," you admit. you hear maria cackle on the other side, "you said it, he looks so attractive playing guitar like that, look at his fingers."
"ok alright maria, i have a child right next to me," you say. she laughs again, "anyways, i got tickets to their next show. you wanna come with?"
you're not sure how you managed to convince yeonjun to stay home with the baby while you went out with maria to this concert, but you did it. he was skeptical of letting you go out with what you were wearing which is why you both argued before you eventually stormed out to go anyways.
when you met up with maria outside the venue she looked up and down with a knowing smile. "i thought that pussy belonged to mr. choi yeonjun? what're you all dressed up for?"
"dressed up?" all you were wearing was a black and white bandana for a top and tight leather pants and comfortable shoes. "do the pants really have to hug your ass like that though?" she jokingly slaps your butt and you glare at her. "that's what yeonjun said," you mumble to yourself.
the concert goes smoothly and you're glad you actually got to see beomgyu in person and playing guitar. one thing about choi beomgyu is that he will play guitar like it's his last day on earth. he plays with so much intensity that you almost feel bad for the guitar.
you could almost feel how the crowd's energy in this packed room transferred to the members. if it was even possible, they started to play with more vigor.
at some point, beomgyu was full on immersed in his own playing. his once fluffy hair was now soaked with sweat and covering his forehead and eyes. he kept headbanging along to the beat while skillfully moving his fingers along the strings of the guitar.
during the middle of one of their songs, beomgyu took the center stage for his guitar solo. it was a fast paced riff that just seemed to give the song more life. his head is down so that it's solely focused on the guitar but once he finished the hardest part of the riff he looked up smugly. the crowd went absolutely mad when beomgyu bit his lip during the rest of his solo.
you had to admit the boy had stage presence, you practically almost re-fell in love with him.
after the show, you and maria went to get refreshments at the nearby bar. beomgyu seemed to already be there talking to one of his members so you took this opportunity to speak with him. you wonder if he'll remember you after all these years but you take your chances.
"beomgyu!" you shout over the music that's playing in the background. he whips his head around to the sound of his name being called and smiles lightly when he sees you. when you get to him, he subtly looks you up and down, taking in your body and attire. "y/n is that you?" he says, his voice laced with something teasing.
"you remember me?" you ask him with a smile. "how could i forget a face like yours," he smiles, leaning back. you laugh and he smiles. "i just saw you on stage, i never thought you'd become this huge! congrats!"
he nods, "yeah, i always wanted to make it big you know." he trails off, looking over you again like he's entranced somehow. "so how's life? you still with-"
"yeonjun...yeah we um- we have a kid...now," you finish nervously. did he really have to bring yeonjun up right now. "a kid?" he says, surprised. "let me see."
you show him a selfie of you and valkyrie that you took at a time when she wasn't completely hating your existence and wanting to cuddle her father instead of you. he laughs and leans back once again, "she's cute like you, she definitely got her mom's features."
"yeah and she's got her dad's attitude," you say, mostly to yourself but beomgyu catches it. "oh yeah! i wanted to say, i really like that one song you played, uh- fairy?"
"fairy of shampoo? yeah we added our own little rock twist to it," he says. "you know the lyrics are actually about y-" your phone cuts him off and you apologize, turning away to answer it. "what is it yeonjun"
beomgyu sighs in frustration when he hears you say that. when you finish talking you turn back to him and he has his eyebrow raised in question. "looks like my fun is over," you laugh dryly. he nods in understanding, "before you go though, let me get your number so we can catch up sometime."
you agree, not wanting to pass up the chance to reconnect with your now famous friend.
"maybe we'll see each other around gyu," you smile, beginning to walk away.
he smiles at the old nickname, waving you off, "i sure hope so."
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vibraniumwing · 4 years ago
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i’ve got you, always. [2]
an oliver wood x reader wherein oliver tries to bring the walls the reader built because of a past heartbreak down. will he manage to do that or break his own along the way?
WARNING: angst, effects of toxic relationships mentioned. 
A/N: so @harrysweasleys​ planted this idea into my mind about how oliver wood and y/n’s love blossomed after her heartbreak with fred. (if you do not know that, please do read this before continuing.) so i’ve broken this down into two parts due to the fact that it was too long. i hope you guys enjoy this, i promise things would look brighter in this one.
i’ve broken this down into two parts, find the first part here.
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---
It’s been nearly four years since he left Hogwarts, since he left you.
Oliver was doing good, life was going great for him. He was a reserve player for Puddlemere United, he has met a ton of people due to his passion. However, there was still a missing piece within him. A piece that no amount of money and materials can fill in.
He still missed you.
---
“C’mon! Hurry Up!” Oliver’s voice shouted through the chaos as they rushed to the main warzone at Hogwarts, the adrenaline pumping as he saw the school he once attended and deemed as a second home in ruins as flashes of green and red ensued the field, leading a group of his old Quidditch teammates down into the field. 
“Professor!” Olive was quick to shout, immediately spotting McGonagall who was tending to students running from left to right. “Tell us where to go, we’re on it.” Katie, an old student and former member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team added upon nearing the woman. 
McGonagall had easily directed them inside the castle, telling them to spread out and assist whoever they could and care for themselves along the way. Oliver sprinted along the hallways- or what was left of it- as he casted spells left and right to shield students from their impending misfortune.
He had run into familiar faces along the way, bumping into Harry once as they both fled their separate ways and from afar he spotted a certain ginger who was running frantically through the crowd, fighting his way through threats; looking for someone amongst the sea of what it seems like never-ending people. 
That’s when he heard it, your familiar voice stood out from the loud crashes of walls. “I’d rather die knowing I didn’t live a life under a monster!” He heard it as clear as day, running to over where you are, he immediately casted, “Stupefy!” which sent the death eater flying away, taking you in his arms in a tight hug.
“You have to be more careful, lass.” His voice was rather broken as you took your face in his hands, letting out a shaky breath as he took in your rather relieved smile. He didn’t know what took over him but tears suddenly filled his eyes, the pent up emotions he had overwhelming him as his posture relaxed visibly.
Holding his hands, you let out a soft chuckle, “I’m alright, Oli. Thanks to you, of course.” a shaky sigh soon following as the fear soon slowly sunk in. You leaned into his touch, finding warmth and safety in his touch before giving him a big smile. “We best be off now and fight our way ‘til dawn, Oli. Thank you so much for saving me.”
His heart was jumping out of his ribcage at the sight of you leaning into him, engraving that into his mind as he nodded. “Promise me you’ll be safe, (Y/N).” He said, voice dripping of seriousness as he readied himself to let you go. This earned an eye roll from you but a big smile nonetheless, nodding eagerly, “Of course, Oli. Thank you once again.”
With a reluctant sigh, he quickly placed a kiss to your forehead and let you go, “I’ve got you, (Y/N). Always.” he said, showing you a bright smile as he and you both ran your separate ways. The sudden course of energy flowed through him, making him feel invincible almost instantly.
“Oh and Wood! Whatever you do, don’t tell Weasley you saw me!” Your voice rang out once more, making him stop dead in his tracks. His head whipped to where you were but all he saw was you saving the twin of the man you just said not to mention your existence to. 
What do you mean by that exactly?
---
The sun slowly shined through the broken walls of the Great Hall, multiple people either crying or just in a trance due to the whirlwind of events that just happened within just a few hours. 
Oliver was by the bleachers, tending to a few first years who were severely injured when he saw a glimpse of your clothes walk away from the castle. He handed the cloth to the boy, “Can you tend to this for a bit?” To which the younger nodded, taking the cloth from him. 
He was quick on his feet and ran to you, catching you in the nick of time as well. His hand grasped onto your wrist, making you twirl around to be greeted by the same honey-colored eyes you’ve seen just a few hours back.
And there it was again, the butterflies you’ve sworn to ban from your stomach, it’s back.
“Oli! I’m so glad you’re okay” You breathed out, taking him into your arms for a hug, heaving a sigh of relief at the sudden burden lifting of your chest. You placed your hands on his shoulders, eyes inspecting all over his face and visible skin, looking for any sort of abrasion on his skin, “Are you hurt anywhere?”
This made him laugh rather loudly, shaking his head, “I’m all good. This is nothing I can’t handle, if I survived nasty bludgers to my stomach, pretty much I can handle anything.” He said, smiling at you rather happily before remembering the reason why he approached you in the first place.
“Would you mind telling me why you asked me to keep you hidden from a specific Weasley, (L/N)?” He suddenly asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his rather tattered jeans, eyes watching how your hands went back to your sides as your body tensed up at the question, clearly caught off guard. 
“We aren’t together anymore.” You explained, gently leaning against the bridge as you crossed your arms, now sparing him a sad smile; despite successfully pushing the memories away, you’ve never really recovered from the fear of loving someone and just have them let go in the end. Ever since the day Fred left, your heart sealed the deal of never loving anyone again.
Taking his silence as a notion to continue, “I caught him kissing another girl one night, then when I gained courage to officially break things off, that was also the day that he and George left Hogwarts. I couldn’t bear to see him today after everything he’s put me through.” You further explained, the fear creeping back into your mind as tears started to fall. 
Oliver didn’t even hesitate to pull you into his arms, engulfing you in a tight hug to silence the sobs that slipped past your lips. He held a subtle scent of cinnamon and ash wood, making you sink into his embrace further, not wanting to let go from the warmth he emitted. 
His hands found its way back to your cheeks, cupping them as his thumb prodded against your skin that glistened with tears, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it, love.” His voice gentle as he spoke, afraid of ruining the fragile moment. You smiled at his caring tone, leaning into his touch once more. 
“(Y/N), I know this may come as a surprise, and I'll accept whatever reaction you may have, but I just want you to know that I’ve got you, always. I know you’re still going through a lot right now because of your emotions, but I’d be more than happy to help you through it all.” He suddenly said, sincerity dripping with every word he spoke, despite the erratic pacing of his heart. 
“I’ve loved you since Godric knows when and I just can’t stand seeing you like this. I won’t mind how long it would take, I’d love you every second of it and even more.” He ended his confession, a shy yet hopeful grin on his lips as he stared at you, readying himself for the probable rejection.
You were stunned into silence, shocked that someone has loved you all his life without the certainty of him receiving the same love back, that someone stayed despite of you losing yourself for another person. Your judgement easily wanted to reject him, to leave him hanging and just protect your heart, but a small part of you just yearned to be held like how he was holding on to you, to feel the warmth and affection he had easily given you over the course of your discussion right now. 
All of these emotions were coursing through your body as he patiently waited for your answer, eyes never leaving his rather calm expression; how he reminded you of the same warmth he had always given you back in the day.
“Just promise me to always be truthful and that you won’t hurt me, Oli. I’ll try and learn to love once again, just please promise me this.” Your voice quietly spoke, searching for the sincerity that never left the brunette’s face. 
“Of course, (Y/N). I promise to give you what you deserve. I’ve got you, always.”
---
And he did hold on to his promise, Oliver had always been so patient with you; giving you the space you need when you ask for it, the attention, affection and love always there despite him going out to train on a daily basis.
He’d always visit your small business and help out when he’s off from Quidditch training, be proud of all that you have done. He has treated you with the utmost respect and understood days where you just can’t control your emotions and help you through the toughest days and weeks; Oliver had always been there. 
Nearly a year into his promise, you’ve realized how much you have fallen for the male, realizing how he effortlessly broke down the walls of fear and hatred for love and replaced it with warmth and security. 
How your heart would flutter when you hear him laugh at your rants and stories from the customers you would encounter, how he would always be gentle when tending to you, how we kept the end of his promise, how he only made you feel that you were worth the fight and patience; that’s when you knew you love him.
---
The two of you were sat by the garden of your childhood home, the sun shining through the spaces in between the leaves as you two sat by the bench swing under the tree. You asked him to accompany you to your family dinner and he gladly accepted the offer, even clearing out his schedule for you. 
It was still quite early so the two of you decided to kill some time by your backyard, your younger cousin immediately finding him interesting and decided to keep you guys some company, settling himself by Oliver’s lap. His feet were gently swinging the bench as he held unto him, lulling him gently to sleep. “Looks like Theo had grown quite attached to you.” You whispered, giggling softly at the sight. 
A soft chuckle resonated from his lips, shrugging lightly as he spoke, “I’ve got my way with kids, what can I say?” tone light and easy as to not wake the child up while his hand rubbed on his back soothingly. 
Maybe it was how he looked at that exact moment that you knew you wanted this forever or just the way your heart pulsed out of beat that made you say, “Oli, I love you.” Your eyes were trained on him as you had sincerity painted all over your features, cheeks as red as the sweater he was wearing at the realization of what you just said, “I’m sorry, that didn’t mean to come out-”
“(Y/N), you have no idea how long I’ve wished for you to say those words to me, you don’t have to apologize for any of it. I love you too.” Were his words, tears forming in eyes as his whole body was suddenly filled with gratitude and warmth, Oliver was never the one to cry, but hearing those words from you were enough to move him to tears, knowing that you meant that by heart. 
Now wrapped upon comfortable silence, the two of you had the biggest smiles as your hands were now interlocked, his thumb caressing your skin gently. “(Y/N)! Oliver! You guys come in now, dinner’s almost ready and we’re about to take pictures!” your mother called out, hand waving to rush you guys back in. 
The two of you looked at each other knowingly before getting up from the seat, his hands cradling Theo as you made your way inside, immediately greeted by your uncles and aunts who you haven’t seen in quite a while. 
“Merlin’s beard, who might this be then?” One of your uncles asked, staring straight at your companion who instantly straightened up despite rocking your cousin in his arms gently. He was about to answer when you spoke up, “This is Oliver Wood, a former schoolmate, one of Puddlemere United’s reserve players and most importantly, my boyfriend.” introducing him with a proud smile as you take his free hand in yours, squeezing it gently. This earned hollers from your cousins and older relatives, making your cheeks a warmer hue than how it was already.
He looked rather surprised at the last thing you put, giving you a did you just say what I think you just did? Which you returned with a subtle nod, smiling happily as your cousin took baby Theo in her arms, quietly thanking him. “Before you even ask, you already know my answer, Oli.” you immediately said, reaching up to peck his cheek before leaving him to help out with your parents. 
That’s when he knew that he wanted this for eternity.
---
Oliver’s heart was erratic as he touched the small velvet box in his pocket as he led you to the very same place where you first confessed your love for him, smiling at the sight of you nervous and trying to peek through the blindfold, squeaking gently as he let you go, gentle music now filling the quiet space, melding with the noises of the grasshoppers that echoed through. 
“You can remove your blindfold now, love.” He said from behind you, to which you happily complied, eyes instantly catching the rather intimate candle-lit dinner set up under the tree, tears springing into your eyes as you searched for your boyfriend, turning around to see him standing with a bouquet of your favorite flowers which he handed off to you.
“This is going to be really cheesy but a year ago, today, a very special girl said something to me under this very same tree. A year ago today, was also the day that I knew that I wanted her- this- for the rest of my life.” He started off, a nervous smile displayed on his lips as he grabbed the same small box from pocket, getting ready to kneel down. 
“I know that we haven’t been together for the longest, but being with you for a year was enough to convince me that I would never find another. You might have beaten me to say I love you first, but I want to be the last person you’d ever say it to. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?” He finished off, your vision blurred with tears as it was greeted by a simple yet elegant diamond ring. 
You were at a loss for words as happiness overwhelmed you, only managing to let out a small “yes” as you opened your arms for him, to which he easily found himself in, capturing your lips in a kiss  before slipping the ring on your finger.
“I love you so much, (Y/N)”
“I love you as much, Oliver.”
---
“Are you really sure about this, darling?” He questioned you one last time as his eyes wandered through Diagon Alley, seeing the rather large moving figure of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes come closer. 
You had asked if it was alright to personally give your invitation to George, to which he happily agreed,  the unnerving feeling of you seeing the man’s twin still present despite the never-ending reassurance that you gave him that it was alright, that you can handle yourself. 
“I am, Oli. Don’t worry too much, I’ll be fine.” You answered, finally reaching the front door of the shop. Your hands slipped from his as you grabbed the invitation from your bag, placing a chaste kiss on his lips in the process. “Don’t miss me too much, Mr. Wood”
He laughed softly, waving as you entered the shop, “I’ll try not to!” he answered, peeking through the glass of the door. A wide smile on his lips as you were now greeted by the ginger, nodding at his direction as you pointed at him from the outside, to which the latter waved happily, giving him a thumbs up in approval. 
What happened next however, made his blood boil. He knew that Fred would be surprised to see you, but to see him take you in his arms was enough for him to rush inside and blast a hard punch across the man’s face, loathing how he treated you in the past. His better judgement, however, told him not to intervene and just trust your words.
His jaw was clenched shut as he watched the scene unfold, how he subtly heard you voice say that you didn’t want any part of him anymore, that you were done and you were happy with him. 
With those words said, a sudden wave of tranquility washed over him as pride swelled over his chest, a big smile on his lips as he welcomed your figure with a warm hug, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears that managed to escape your eyes, “Are you alright, princess?”
You nodded, not moving from his grasp as you captured his lips in a kiss, conveying how thankful you are for him, how thankful you are that he taught you how to love once again. “I am, love. I’m just so thankful for you, I love you.”
He smiled once more, resting his forehead against yours as he spoke, “You know I love you too, love. You don’t have to thank me for anything.”
“And why is that?”
“Because as a girl told me one too many times before, I’ve got you, always.”
--
general taglist: @theweasleyslut​ @violetravens​ @starlightweasley​ @eunoia-kth ( i can’t tag you :<)
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kuroos-moon · 4 years ago
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「ii. Collide Pt. 2」
☽☽☽☽☽☽ ❦ ☾☾☾☾☾☾
He shuts off his phone, sliding out of his car with ease with his mask already on and his bag strapped to his shoulder. As much as he likes to deny it to himself, he’s still hurting over you, the mere mention of your name already making him want to stay at home and do what he rarely did— self-destruct.
He exhales a breath in annoyance, bitterness welling up in his chest. Who were you to lurk in his mind after all these years?
He pushes the door open, silently walking through the marble halls. For him, it was impossible for you to be there inside the gym. Why would you— after all these years of ‘hiding’— show up in front of him now?
“What? But Keiji, Tetsuro, I just got here!”
He immediately stops in his tracks, a chill running down his spine. It’s your voice. How cruel could time be, why didn’t he ever forget it? Not once had he watched your movies or interviews, heck, at even hearing your name on the radio he automatically turns it off.
Yet here he was, knowing fully well this sweet voice belonged to you.
“You wanted to hang out, right?”
He remembers this voice too, and all he felt was distaste.
“I did, but Akaa-
“Y/n, please.”
An unwanted memory resurfaces, and he curses himself for thinking of it now, backing up against the wall just beside the entrance as he leans on it with his head tilted back.
With eyes closed, he tries to calm himself, actually considering to take off his mask just so he could breathe better.
That day— like all of the days with you in it, it’s clear as an image; one he could replay like a movie.
“Y/n.” You yelp in surprise and turn back to look at him, flushed at the fact he was holding your wrist firmly but at the same time his hold was gentle. 
His eyes dart down to what you wore— you were managing Karasuno now? He obviously had so much questions but that wasn’t the important part— for now at least, he just wanted to assure himself that you’re actually here and you won’t disappear again.
“Err, uhm, hi, uh how do you know my name?” You look at him weirdly, slightly tugging back at your arm. His brows furrow, lips parting so slightly behind his mask and his hand not loosening its grip on your wrist.
“What? You haven’t seen me in months and that’s the first thing you say?” He exasperatedly says before he exhales a breath in disbelief, “y/n what-”
“Y/n, I told you to stick with me,” he was cut off by Akaashi Keiji, your arm now out of Sakusa’s grasp, causing him to glare at the setter in irritation. Yes, he knew Akaashi was your close childhood and family friend but he hated him. 
He told him he didn’t know where you were or why you left that time when Sakusa was practically about to go down on his knees just to see you again.
“Sorry, Keiji, he- uh- well,  I don’t know him though-”
“He must be confused, let’s go,” his hold glides down from your elbow to your hand as you both turn away. Subtly, he looks back and locks eyes with Sakusa once more; a warning glare, followed by a sigh as if Sakusa was about to screw something up.
He was beyond confused, moreover, in pain. You left without a word, and now that you see each other again, you pretend to not even know him. It wasn’t hard for him to conclude that he had been the only one who cared, the only one in love, and the only one who suffered when you parted. 
He steadies his breaths, before finally opening his eyes. He’s okay now— he thinks, as he leans away from the wall, deciding it’d be best to skip practice for today since you decided to grace the gym with your visit. 
Heaven knows he’d do anything to steer clear of you, but it’s as if they were mocking him as you stood before him in curiosity.
“I know you,” you blink, looking up at him in thought, and he chuckles humorlessly, looking at you spitefully as if you’d wronged him.
“You do,” he darkly says. You both stand a foot away from each other, your gaze unfaltering despite his hostility. It’s not that you weren’t intimidated, he was just so fucking handsome. His shoulders were stupidly broad as he towered over you with his tall and ripped figure you could clearly make out though he’s wearing a jacket.
He was totally the type you didn’t know you had; with his curly black hair you wish you could run your fingers through, a beautiful mesmerizing face adorned with the two moles above his thick brows, a penetrating gaze that seemed lifeless but not at all making his eyes any less pretty, and overall, he was beyond attractive, smells like your kind of love potion too.
 “May I know your name?” You innocently ask him, and he raises a brow at you before he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Sure, lets both pretend you don’t know,” he coldly says and you scoff at him. 
“I wouldn’t ask you if I did,” you put a hand to your hip, “aren’t you quite arrogant, mr.-i-look-good-in-black.”
He was stunned, you’ve always been bratty, he figures that you didn’t change much. Well, he did; he’s changed, the distant but loving boy you once knew grew even more distant and cold, hatred coursing through his veins at the mere sight of you.
“We’re doomed,” Kuroo mumbles to Akaashi who nods, Hinata and Bokuto stressfully running their fingers through their hair. “They were bound to cross paths though,” Kuroo shrugs but Akaashi shakes his head.
“That’s not all,” he sighs, staring at you, “can’t you recognize the look on her face?” They look at you intently before a simultaneous “oh,” was dropped. “That’s what y/n looks like when she spots nice clothes while we’re out shopping,” Bokuto nervously says and Kuroo lets out a sarcastic chuckle.
“That look on her face right now? That’s the exact same one when she fell head over heels for her musician ex, Semi, was it?” He says, and Akaashi nods. “We could’ve prevented this.”
“No, it was an accident!” Hinata pouts, “she said she was going to the restroom, how were we supposed to know she meant the one outside the gym?” 
“If looks could kill, I think I’m already dead, thanks to you,” you sweetly smile at him, and Sakusa studies your face once more with with glaring eyes before he slowly turns on his heel, “make this day the last time I see you—please,” he says the last part more quietly.
You only cock your head to the side in wonder as you watch him walk away. 
“Y/N! YOU OKAY?!” Hinata screams and you shush him, immediately making him shut up. “What’s wrong?” Bokuto whispers as the four of them watch you stare at his back.
“His shoulders are so broad, his back is so hot, and for what?” You bite your lip, Akaashi almost having a stroke at what you had just said. “Did he say anything weird though?” He quietly asks, and you finally look at the four of them once Sakusa turned the corner.
“Yup, our whole conversation’s weird, I think he hates me,” you chuckle, and they all exchange a look, “what’s so funny?” Kuroo mouths at Bokuto who shrugs. 
“You okay y/n? You seem weird, do you need something?” Hinata asks you and you smirk. 
“I need two things Sho,” you grin widely as you hold up two fingers in the air, “his name, and his number.”
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Smau Masterlist
☽☽☽☽☽☽ ❦ ☾☾☾☾☾☾
Taglist [Open]: @juno-multifandom @dope-squish @moonlightaangel @ladymartiini @kac-chowsballs @amareloecrime @bokutosuwus @animatedrapture @dianablushblush @seikamuzu @luvssuna @thepuffybubby @thomas-brodie-sangster-newt @cutiekawa @prcttylittlcthing @impromptuxprompts @lulu3mon @pockytokyo @arianatorgrand3 @coconut-dreamz @tskeiki @superstarsw18 @kaito-thedumbass @sunshine-hina @paripedia @kasandrafaye  @kac-chowsballs @bokuakadaily @doggonudez @seokjinnieandthesixbabies @princess-angel-sweetheart @d-efend @sun-daddy-yoriichi @euphorihan @moncymonce @elianetsantana @gaychemicalwater @miitchii @channiechanchan @chaelysian @weebartistinc @bonkyandloki @dinablossom @adriivette @uwu-baby-boi @broccoliandwheeze @sunflowerirl @yeahhemmings- @violetarks @craftyfawns @haikyunicorn @tinymidgetsstuff 
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leviiattacks · 4 years ago
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Two Faced | Chapter Five
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↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.
pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note :: just got diagnosed with covid so i have a lot of spare time on my hands so ummm send in any requests you have into my ask box i’d love to try doing headcanons!! → next part is here!!
Erwin sees the confused look you have and now he too seems lost as he shifts his line of vision to Levi. At that moment your husband slams his heel and grinds it onto your foot. Squirming around in your seat dealing with the stinging pain you catch on that you can't let Erwin think you're clueless.
Quickly, the look of confusion washes away from your features and you return his smile. "I'm willing to do what I must."
You think you've ruined this entirely because Erwin's eyes dart suspiciously between you and your husband. However, Hange intervenes, the interference seems to be enough for him to shake off any skepticism he senses.
Two hands hold onto your frame and squeeze your shoulders. Hange is standing up and seems ecstatic."You two are just so evil." they cackle to themself and you play along laughing too. You are not giving Levi the opportunity to ram into your foot again. Hange who is practically a personified ray of Sunshine at all times does still seem a little down, you did pick up on it when you entered the room. Maybe it was just you overthinking, that's what you assure yourself with.
Then it settles in your bones. Evil? Blinking you turn to look at Levi hoping for some sort of indication about whatever is going on.
"She wouldn't listen to me at all, said she felt the need to step in and help the Empire in some way." His tone is monotonous, still not sparing you a glance and you want to kick him in the shins. He's usually much more affectionate and you're afraid Squad Leader Hange and Commander Erwin will figure out this is all a facade.
"It's a noble commitment to put yourself forward for such a risky position, I see why you and Lance Corporal Levi are a sound match." Erwin isn't smiling this time but his tone is content.
Mind now buzzing with ideas you want to fall face first into the carpeted floor of the office spread out like a starfish. You would prefer that instead of being left in the dark. Could they simply mention the name of whatever it is you've apparently offered to do?
Levi's clearly grimaces but then he moves to hold your hand rather boldly. Shaking him off isn't an available option because of his strong grip. "She wouldn't listen to me at all. If I had it my way she wouldn't step anywhere near enemy soil." He grumbles.
The fake concern he's trying to lace in his voice is having an effect on his two colleagues, they're eating it up and believe this act.
Enemy soil? Risky position? He has to be stealthily plotting your death because you see no other reason for why you would be sent off to venture anywhere near the enemy. You aren't even apart of their regime, or any regime for that matter, you're itching with nervousness and want to free your hand from his desperately.
The only emotion this man is good at feigning is straight boredom, he ignores the way your hand shakes and squirms, ignores how your palms are dampening with sweat, instead the way he holds onto you only strengthens. It's surprising that no one has said a word about the lack of chemistry between the two of you.
Suddenly Hange looks down at their pocket watch and hurriedly gets to their feet dragging Erwin up with them too. "Y/N, I have something to tell you later on, please do stop by HQ when you can, I expect that will be soon." They then tell Erwin that there's no time to loiter and that there are more important meetings to attend to.
Erwin leans into your ear and whispers. "He seems disturbed that you're putting yourself at risk. He means well." You wish that were the case but it isn't. Despite that the way Erwin tries to explain Levi's behavior is sweet.
Hange gives you a cute thumbs up but makes it a point that you need to speak later on, even as they're both walking out the door Hange keeps reminding you to meet up later on. The abnormal behavior between you and Levi may have been noticed but you know if that were the case Hange would have been more vocal about it.
"Combat classes start soon. We know this will all be difficult, building you up from scratch is hazardous but all in good time you will serve a key role in the liberation of Paradis."
Erwin's parting words are gracious.
And then both the Commander and Squad Leader leave, the room is empty but Levi doesn't even wait for the door to shut behind your two visitors.
He makes it a priority to throw your hand away from his, he's now methodically using his handkerchief to dust his fingers off. It's oddly ironic and enrages you because he's the one who grappled your hand into his grasp. What's the point when those same hands until recently looped around your waist in the middle of the night?
He thinks your hand is filthy, that you yourself are filthy and disgusting. At least that's what you think he thinks.
Crossing your arms over your chest you make your feelings known to Levi. You're frustrated beyond the way words can describe, it's not about how he refuses to touch you. Admittedly that does hurt you, makes your chest swell in remembrance of the old days but you really just want to know what he's put you up to without your permission.
Not speaking you wait for him to take the hint but he doesn't get it or he refuses to acknowledge your existence, something tells you it's the latter because all he cares about is sanitizing his hands.
He always had been a clean freak but when he was enchanted it didn't take much for him to touch you. Part of you wonders if it's the nature of the touch that he wants to exterminate or the fact it's your skin he's come in contact with which is bothering him.
"Care to explain?"
"Touching someone such as yourself romantically gives me the urge to retch." The confession is as acidic as the after taste one has after a late night of drinking, but he has no problem telling you the blunt truth.
"I see." You shortly reply, you weren't asking about that, your question was directed more towards the conversation which just took place with his colleagues but now knowing he doesn't want to touch you has an emptying effect on your chest.
A silent minute passes, maybe two minutes, you're not sure all you're doing is eyeing the carpet thinking about how you would like to be asphyxiated and brought to your end, you can't handle this for much longer.
"Sign these papers, we need your written consent." His voice shows no hints hints of Lev. Last night may have been the last time you had a chance to witness him.
A stack of documents is thrown in front of you and then you see it right at the top of the pile. A sheet filled with general information, eyes skim over the "Purpose of employment" section and you don't know what churns in your stomach. Is it Exasperation? Nerves? Grief? It can't be pinpointed, it could be a mix of all three.
"An Informant."
Rereading the title you hold the paper in disbelief between your palms. "You told your regiment that I would be willing to spy in on enemy kingdoms?"
His hands rub at his forehead, he's not perturbed at all. "Is it in your blood to be ungrateful?" Brutally cynical his tone is rocky.
He moves - not even towards you but for some reason you flinch stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. Narrow ice cold eyes trace your face carefully for any signs of manipulation or deception. Gulping anxiously you know you have to be careful with what you say or do. Getting too comfortable or casual around him is a risk you are not willing to take.
"I don't think you understand. I do not have the abilities nor the skill to do this. I would cause more issues." You cautiously move to grab his arm but before you get there he takes a wide step back. He's clearly defining that there's a boundary. You won't step into his territory not when you've already invaded a large portion of it for so long.
"I am no witch. I still don't understand what happened." You mutter hoping he believes you or at least tries to.
"Then die." Levi hisses. He fixes you with his poisonous stare. "Make it quick."
Curse yourself to a life with this man who every step of the way is hoping for your death - maybe he'll even push you towards it purposefully one day. The alternative choice available is to die by the hands of that same man right now.
Guilt and regret are what you feel, you can't look death in the eye proudly. Not right now. If you can't commit to the promise you made mother then there is truly no point in making your way to the afterlife.
Cowardice is not the cause of death you want to present her with.
With a heavy heart you sign the papers.
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It's been a few days since then, you've received training from some of Levi's squad, at first the combat is nerve wracking but you get to a level where you feel comfortable in terms of defense.
Oluo is slow, you've picked up on the way his stance predicts every move he's about to make. You're thankful for that because it makes training easier, he's oblivious to just how easy it is to read his movements and you snigger at that. Today he's trying a new technique, it consists of attempting to dive in the direction of one of your shoulders and suddenly darting at the other. It catches you off guard for a second but it's simple to block him. Jumping back from another surprise attack you lunge forward as if you're aiming for his face. He lights up thinking this is his chance unbeknownst to him you've already seen the open opportunity you've been waiting for. You can change the wager in this brawl. Swiftly ducking you undercut him with one of your legs, his balance has been knocked and he stumbles teetering by a thread.
A solid kick to his stomach is all it takes for him to collapse to the ground grumbling in vexation.
Mikasa has been helping you with one on one combat and the extra hours of training behind the stables has clearly been of benefit.
Thinking back to your training sessions with Mikasa you frown, not because of the way she flipped you and shoved you into the dirt, no that part was quite exhilarating. It's Sasha. She's been on your mind. She has to be feeling left out, that's your fault you've kept her in the dark about joining the regime, how could you attend training with her? Your maid waiting on you whilst you were training? Impossible.
The last problem you wish to arise is everyone finding out you're Duchess Ackerman. No one has to know about that minor detail, in fact when you informed Hange and Erwin of your decision they strongly agreed it would be best to hide it.
"I think we should get you strapped into some gear. See how good you really are in the dexterity department." Oluo is spitefully mumbling under his breath red faced.
Offering him your hand he looks like he wants to smack it away, You don't have time for this, you were planning on dropping by and paying Hange their more than overdue visit after training hours were up.
ODM-gear doesn't look too hard, you're sure you can work out the mechanisms if given some time. Calculating and shifting time blocks in your head you can come to an end at Six, if and only if you're able to rush past ODM training.
"Okay, I admit you were tired today I could tell. I'll strap myself into some gear."
At this new new challenge Oluo willingly takes your hand and you heave him up.
He's got a cocky shit-eating grin sprawled across his face as he pats your back enthusiastically.
"Good luck, you're in for one hell of a ride."
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Three dimensional ODM-gear, a contraption that is very different to a sword or dagger. Most soldiers find it difficult to master the balancing of all their body weight whilst simultaneously gliding through the air with the grapple hooks. This is why introductory lessons in balance, momentum and effective weight distribution are a must.
It's been instructed that you won't be using ODM-gear nearly as much as other members of the regiment, you're training to become a spy after all and ODM-gear is very obviously visible when a person is strapped into their uniform. Nevertheless it's still a requirement to be able to use it. It's a hurdle because it's not your forte by any means but you can't continue avoiding it.
When living as the Duchess you deemed it pivotal to only interact with a limited number of Levi's colleagues, those who worked at the estate couldn't be avoided such as Mikasa but apart from that Hange was the only outsider you spoke to (Before Erwin had come along). You don't know if you regret that decision because it's definitely why everyone is cackling as you thrash around, they have no idea he has a wife and if they do they show no inclination of knowing you are that woman.
Sniggers can be heard as you struggle to center your strength fully, your instructor bellows at you. "No, come on. STOP FLAILING AROUND!" Particles of his saliva fly in your face and that only feeds into your embarrassment. Paralyzed you don't know what to do, he tells you to not move around then the next minute barks at you to not give up, repeats that you have the agility level equivalent of a sick child.
You've been stuck in this upside down position for more time than you can imagine, at some point a large majority of the scouts including Oluo double down in laughter whenever you make a mistake - they berate you when you are trying your best.
Legs kicking out you're panicking and want to escape the harness you're in.
Oluo was right, nothing could prepare you for this.
Mikasa when she isn't busy assisting Levi is a part of the regime too, that's why she's grinding her teeth this morning when she walks into the training grounds and sees the whole scene play out right before her eyes.
She wants to desperately step in and stop this because you being forced into ODM training without having your core strength developed is unfair.
Then a yell is heard from the crowd "GO Y/N!! LISTEN TO ME ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS KEEP CALM!" Both you and Mikasa turn to see Sasha standing next to her.
Sasha? Mikasa knows very well how you forbade her to follow you today, you gave her the day off to visit her family.
"I thought Y/N warned yo-"
"I am dedicated in my service to the Lady, if she chooses to do this I will be by her side to support her. She does not have to feel embarrassed."
Members of the corps are eyeing her weirdly when she says "Lady" she doesn't know you're keeping your identity secret, that was the reason for giving her time away, you were afraid she'd slip up and expose you but simply hearing Sasha proudly announce her commitment for you in front of all these people knocks the wind right out of your chest. You've never felt this much importance before.
Sasha's motivation is all you need because by a miraculous turn of events you manage to steady your breathing pattern and find it within yourself to focus on your core. Wobbling shakily the transition is far from smooth but you flip yourself right side up, the muscles in your calf ache and throb with pain but you've done it.
Grinning from ear to ear at your two friends you feel light-headed with relief.
"Took her long enough." Levi sneers. He's made his way to the front of the crowd, you wonder when he got here. Beaming at him you think your presentation might be enough to discourage his usual response. You're incorrect.
"She's a shame to this squad, there is no need in motivating someone of her rank." Shallow breaths puffing out of you it comes to your attention that he's addressing Sasha.
She ignores what he has to say about you and stays silent, any normal person would have their head hanging down in shame but she looks into his eyes with a determination that takes your breath away.
He pays her no mind after that and turns back to where you're still struggling to keep steady. "Don't think you're hot shit." Your bottom teeth dig into your lip, and your throat suddenly clamps down on you restricting your breath. "She's no good at combat, no good at using her gear. Do you only excel at spreading lies, Cadet?" The way he's now completely indignant in the way he speaks stings. He doesn't even bother to sound normal in front of Mikasa or Sasha anymore, it makes you manually hollow your cheeks trying to keep your tears at bay.
Lies, you know what he's referencing. You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and throw him to the muddy ground. That's what he deserves for prodding and poking at your vulnerabilities.
He doesn't understand the degree at which all these sudden changes are affecting you, in his eyes this is light work and shouldn't impact you at all, that's why when you feel a muscle contraction and reel backwards, rapidly falling back into that cursed upside down position. He scoffs, doesn't even move to check if you're okay.
Whispers circle around you and even some of the cadets who participated in ridiculing you step forward to take you out of your harness. However, Sasha and Mikasa get there first and shoot them with their intense glares, the both of them work on hoisting you out of your gear.
Levi takes one last look at you before he storms away convinced you're faking, what else would a runt like you do to escape the situation?
In his mind you lost your momentum and your ship capsized because of your own self sabotage.
Little does he know all that has truly lost momentum is the inner-workings of your heart and that is all thanks to him.
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blueskrugs · 5 years ago
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Four Times His Teammates Said “I Love You,” and One Time He Did | Vince Dunn
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for @captainpetty​ and Erin who encouraged the hell out of me while I wrote this (and the other Vince 4+1 I was writing at the same time whoops)
length: 3.8k words
Brayden Schenn You’d been dating Vince Dunn three months before you met the rest of the team. You hadn’t minded, really. You were more than content to hang at one of your apartments on nights off, watching movies and HGTV shows and eating takeout. Vince had told you once that he didn’t want them to meet you purely because they could just be a lot, but sometimes you wondered if there was more to it than them just being a loud group of guys.  You tried not to be insecure, but it could be hard when your boyfriend was unfairly good looking and also in the NHL. 
You waited for Vince near the locker room after a game, nervously fidgeting with your phone, standing apart from the other WAGs. There were conversations happening around you as other boys trickled out of the locker room, but you stayed out of them, feeling out of place and like you didn’t belong. 
You were so distracted and caught up in your head that you didn’t notice that Vince had emerged until he swept you up into a hug, spinning you around once for good measure. They had won, and Vince had scored a goal in the process, and he was clearly still a little high on adrenaline. You laughed as he bent down to kiss you but ducked your head and blushed when you heard his other teammates whistling. You were pretty sure Vince flipped them off behind his back, but then he was leaning down to kiss you again, and it didn’t really matter.
A win meant the boys were going out, and Vince had told you he wanted you to come with them this time. You piled into his car with Sammy, still quiet as your thoughts raced. You had fought with Sammy for shotgun and won, but you were mostly worrying about whether or not everyone else on the team would like you. You didn’t really understand why it seemed so important to you that they did, other than the fact that you knew they meant everything to Vince.
The bar was loud and crowded, between fans and twenty-something large hockey players and their assorted significant others. All of you managed to find a spot in a corner. You were wedged up between Sammy and Vince, with Vince’s arm draped over your shoulders and a beer in your hand. You let yourself listen to their conversations, carefully free of hockey talk, save for when a particularly brave fan came over to talk about the game. The boys asked you questions for a while, but a bar is hardly the place for small talk. Your tables were near a dartboard, and Brayden Schenn and Colton Parayko had pulled away to play. You watched, resting your head on Vince’s shoulder, as they got more and more frustrated when the darts weren’t landing where they wanted them to.
“You ever play?” Vince asked, nudging your head a little.
“Not really,” you lied. Really, one of your older brothers and your dad had taught you when you were a kid, and you were actually pretty good. None of them knew that though, and you wanted to have a little fun. 
Vince lit up, just like you knew he would, and dragged you over to Brayden and Colton. He kicked them off the dartboard, suddenly excited all over again at the prospect of teaching you something. He spent like fifteen minutes pressed up behind you as he showed you how to stand, how to hold a dart, the right way to throw it. It was more than a little cute. By the time he was done, you were dying to tell him the truth, but you also wanted to play it up a little more. So when he let go of you and told you to, “Show us what you’ve got, babe,” you deliberately threw it poorly. And again. And through a whole game against Brayden and Colton.
“Let me try again,” you begged, eyes maybe a little too wide, voice a little too eager. Vince looked at Brayden and Colton, who both shrugged good-naturedly. “I think I’m getting the hang of it now.”
“Put some money on it this time!” Perron yelled from the table. Okay, he may have been onto you a little bit. 
You pouted at Vince until he sighed and pulled out some cash for both of you, throwing it onto the table next to what Schenner and Colton had put down. You made sure to let Brayden and Colton go first this time. For dramatic effect, you drank the last of Vince’s beer before turning and nailing a bullseye. You were met with raised eyebrows, but you just shrugged.
“Got lucky, I guess?” You could hear David Perron laughing for sure now. 
The rest of the game continued like that, with your throws true to aim each time, and Schenner and Parayko very quickly becoming frustrated again. The rest of the guys were paying close attention now, joining in Perron’s laughter and chirps. 
“Alright, fuck you, what the hell?” Colton asked as you swept their cash off the table, but he was laughing too.
“Dunner, I think I’m in love with your girlfriend,” Brayden said, slumped over the table. Kelsey made a noise of protest somewhere behind you. You laughed and tried not to think about how good it felt to have been accepted, a smile never leaving your face for the rest of the night. 
Robert Thomas It was the beginning of summer, and you were at the Tarasenko’s (frankly, ridiculously large) house for one last team barbecue before everyone scattered to the four corners of the earth. The Blues had gotten knocked out of the playoffs early, and, honestly, it had been kind of ugly. Vince and Sammy had wallowed around their apartment for a couple of days, but today everyone seemed determined to bask in the sun and relax (and maybe drink too much beer). 
You had been in the pool for a bit, while the sun was still high in the sky, but it was only early May, and before long you got too cold. You were making your rounds, chatting with Jayne and Dayna and Yana. Vladi was in his element cooking, and Petro and Schwartzy were fulfilling their duties as team mom and dad, keeping an eye on the young guys on the team. 
It was loud and energetic, but it was comfortable and it was nice to see all the boys relaxed after the end of the season and the playoffs. You wandered over to Vince where he was part of the group playing Spike Ball in the grass. They were all way too into it, in the nature of being competitive athletes, and you watched for a while, sipping on a Truly and laughing when one of them ended up sprawled across the grass dramatically.
Vince and Sammy eventually got kicked off the game, and Vince came over and wrapped an arm around your waist. He plucked the Truly out of your hands and took a drink before making a face.
“Gross. How do you girls drink these things?” he asked. 
You scoffed. “As if you guys didn’t drink your fair share of Bud Lights when you won the Cup,” you said. Vince rolled his eyes but didn’t have a good comeback for that one. 
Vince got distracted after standing with you for a couple of minutes and went off with Sammy to annoy Petro. You were pretty sure Perron was encouraging them. Soon it was Robert Thomas standing next to you.
“What do you want, Robby?” you asked, at the same time Robert said: “Will you steal me another beer?”
Now, you knew Schwartzy had cut Robby off after two beers, but you also knew that he’d had at least one more since then. You shot him a look.
“Why am I doing your dirty work? I don’t wanna face Schwartzy’s wrath.”
“Please?” Damn him. You knocked back the rest of your Truly before sighing one more time and heading off to find a beer that you weren’t even going to get to drink. 
It was nearly ten minutes before you could make it back to Robby, and you only narrowly avoided being thrown back into the pool by Kyrou. You slipped the beer to Robby, who took it gratefully. You rolled your eyes.
“I want it on record that I hate you sometimes.”
“I love you, too,” Robby said, draping an arm across your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You let yourself smile, even though you knew he was a little drunk and that it was just the beer talking. 
Colton Parayko  The boys were coming home from a road trip, and you were in Vince’s kitchen, baking cookies. Technically, Vince had given you the spare key to his apartment four months into your relationship “for emergencies,” but you were craving snickerdoodles, and he had a better kitchen than you. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they’d been in California for nearly two weeks, and you knew that they were Vince’s favorite cookies. 
He texted you when they got off the plane, asking if you’d come over, while also warning you that some of the guys would be coming home with him.  You carefully didn’t tell him that you were already waiting in his apartment. You were just pulling the last of the cookies out of the oven when you heard the front door open behind you, and several loud hockey players spilled through the doorway. You listened as they dropped their bags and shed their shoes, focused on trying not to burn yourself as you transferred cookies to a cooling rack. 
You felt an arm wrap around your waist, and another arm reached around you to steal a cookie. You knew it was Colton based on the sheer size and leaned into him a little bit.
“What did we do to deserve you baking us cookies? I think I love you, Y/N,” he said, immediately followed by, “Hot, shit, hot,” when he took a bite out of the cookie.
“Careful, those just came out of the oven,” you said, ducking out of Colton’s grasp to run and hug Vince.
He was laughing, and he thanked you for the cookies with a kiss, but he didn’t say anything else. The rest of the guys crowded into the kitchen for cookies, but Vince stayed plastered to your side. There was a chorus of thanks from his teammates, and you settled into the noisy chaos that came with being friends with a group of hockey players. 
Sammy Blais The last time was actually almost the end of your relationship with Vince. It had been one of those stereotypically terrible days where you slept through your alarm, spilled your coffee on the way to work, and then nothing else seemed to go your way the whole day. You made your way over to Vince’s apartment after work without texting, but you knew they had a day off and would be chilling. All you really wanted was some food and cuddles, but you knew at the very least you’d have to deal with Sammy, since they still lived together. 
You let yourself in with a sigh; those idiots never actually locked their front door. 
“Vince?” you called out, kicking off your shoes by the door, but it was Sammy who poked his head around the corner.
“Hey, Y/N. He’s streaming right now, but I was about to order dinner,” Sammy says with a smile. That’s Sammy for you, always smiling. You groan, suddenly feeling tears burning behind your eyes. Your head was beginning to hurt. 
“Of fucking course. You know what? Forget I came here, I’m just gonna go home,” you said, turning back to put your shoes back on, angrily trying to blink back those stupid tears. 
“Hey now, none of that,” Sammy said quietly, suddenly behind you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. Distantly, you could hear Vince yelling at his Fortnite game. “I’m ordering all of us dinner, and then we’re gonna lay on the couch while we wait.”
You wandered into the living room and settled on the couch, listening to Sammy order your favorite from the kitchen, before he came back. You could still hear Vince playing Fortnite in the other room. You vaguely wondered who he was playing with if Sammy was in here with you. It didn’t matter, though, because Sammy was pulling you into his lap and maneuvering the two of you until you were cuddling to his satisfaction. You immediately felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders all day release. 
Sammy rested his chin on your head, your face pressed into his chest. Cuddling with Vince’s teammates was hardly a rare occurrence; they were almost always in some sort of dog pile, and you often got dragged into it. (You would never really admit to how much you loved it, and you would complain about being trapped under hockey players until the day you died.) Both of you were quiet for a moment.
“Are you gonna tell me what all this is about today?” Sammy asked gently, poking you in the side. You poked him back but buried your face in his chest a little bit more. He poked you again, harder this time. “C’mon,” he said, “tell me what’s wrong or I won’t let you eat.”
You knew Sammy would never actually do that, but you launched into the tale of your day anyway, beginning when you woke up and even including the argument you’d had with your mom at lunch, about Vince no less. You didn’t realize you were crying as you vented, more out of frustration than actual sadness, until Sammy tightened his arms around you, shushing you. 
“Stop that.” You laughed a little. Sammy was needy all day long, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was good with emotions, much less his best friend’s crying girlfriend. “That’s better. You’ve gotta remember that no matter what shit happens we all love you, right? You make us cookies, and who else am I supposed to cuddle with?”
Vince chose that moment to walk into the room, stretching. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, completely oblivious. You pulled back from Sammy, but his words were still echoing sharply in your head. Words Vince had never said, but so many of his teammates had no problems telling you casually. 
Vince Dunn You had been with Vince for almost a year. Just shy of eleven months, if you really wanted to get specific. All those months, and you had never heard Vince say, “I love you.” You wanted to see it as no big deal. He certainly cared about you, and he knew the little things like your favorite flavors of candies and the way you drank your coffee when you made it at home versus your Starbucks order. He indulged in your stress baking, and he stayed up late with you to binge your favorite shows. 
It was just something you thought about, as time went on, spending nights at his apartment, stealing his hoodies, and cuddling after long days and road trips. It was what distracted you when you were running your fingers through his curls, and it was what kept you awake at night when he was in another city. 
You had said it, more than once. The first time had been more of an accident, the “I love you” slipping out while you were laughing at a story he was telling about Sammy doing something stupid; you had both frozen when you registered what you had said, but you’d moved on. Soon you realized that that mistake was definitely not a mistake. You were falling in love with Vince Dunn, and it scared you. You told him again one night, in the dark where he couldn’t see your face, the fear of rejection you were sure was there. He had kissed you and pulled you closer, but he didn’t say it back. It terrified you, that you were falling so hard for someone when you had absolutely no idea how he felt about you.
You tried your hardest not to think about the stories you had heard when you first met Vince–all the things about wheeling girls at home and girls waiting for him in different cities. You tried to remind yourself of the nights spent with his head in your lap while you played with his hair, the way he looked fondly at Sammy when he was being an idiot, how good he was with kids. You had long since learned that the cool Vince Dunn who got into fights on the ice was a front; the real Vince Dunn was actually soft as hell, but only people he trusted could see that side of him. You’d seen that side of him from the very beginning, so surely he had to love you too, right?
All these doubts were running through your mind more and more often, and you started pulling away, shutting down–you were quiet when you were with Vince, and you found yourself making excuses for not spending time together. You didn’t think Vince noticed, either, but you missed the worried looks he shot you when you pulled away from his cuddles.
It all came to a head one November night when you were over at his apartment. He was still up playing video games, and Sammy had just gone to bed. You were curled up under a blanket and in one of Vince’s team hoodies, the 29 on your shoulder like a brand. You’d been thinking all night, but especially as you watched Vince smile at whatever was said on the other end of his headset; you weren’t really listening to whatever his response was. You had decided a couple days before, while Vince was on a plane home from a road trip, that you really needed to talk, and you’d spent the days since then rehearsing the words in your head, but they never sounded right.
“Vince, what’re we doing here?” you blurted. Okay, that still didn’t sound good, and you definitely hadn’t meant to say it right then. Vince looked up at you, startled, and you heard him mutter a rushed apology and goodbye as he ended the game with whoever he was playing with. He dropped his controller on the floor with a clatter as he stood up. 
Vince pulled you onto his lap, and you went, still tense, but tucking your face into his neck. “Baby, I don’t know what you mean,” Vince started. You both knew that was a lie.
“You know we’ve been together almost a year, right?” Vince sighed above you, and you knew those still weren’t the right words. “I love you, Vince, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, but I just don’t think I can stay if you don’t. I just-I can’t keep waiting around, I don’t think I can handle another summer of you in Toronto while I’m still here in St. Louis and I don’t know what you’re doing-” At this point you were just rambling.
Vince cursed under his breath and shoved you off his lap. You watched, confused, and more than a little hurt, as he jumped up and ran towards Sammy’s room as fast as he could in socked feet. He pushed Sammy’s door open without knocking and disappeared inside; you heard Sammy’s muffled swearing– possibly in French– and the sounds of Vince throwing things around.
You had half a thought to get up and leave when Vince burst back out of Sammy’s room, flushed and flustered. Vince was rushing back towards you, tripping over his feet and landing in a heap at your feet. Without thinking, you reached out and pushed his curls out of his face.
“I, shit, I wanted to do this well, wanted to wait until next month,” Vince said, out of breath, “but that clearly wasn’t the best idea.” What you thought was impending heartbreak was just fading into confusion. “I know I froze the first time you told me you loved me. I fucked that up. But then I was trying to figure out how I felt, and then when I did figure it out, I wanted to make it perfect, and then I had to ask for advice, and then-”
You laughed a little then, because Vince was the one rambling now, and all of his words were coming out rushed, like he thought you still might get up and walk out of his apartment right then, in your pajama shorts and his hoodie. “Vince, slow down, you’re freaking me out a little.” Vince just blinked up at you for a moment, green eyes wide and still a little frantic.
“I love you so much, Y/N. And I was an idiot for not telling you months ago. But I’m telling you now, and I mean it. I love-” You cut Vince off again, this time with a kiss, pulling him up by his collar to reach your lips. You felt him relax underneath your hands.
He climbed back up onto the couch, kissing you gently one last time. “Part of the reason I needed to wait was because I needed to find this,” he said, pulling a jewelry box out of his pocket. He opened it quickly to reveal a simple silver bar necklace, engraved with a small heart and a 29. You had to kiss him again. Suddenly the rush to Sammy’s room made more sense. “And when it came in, I had to hide it from you. It’s a miracle Sammy didn’t say anything. I was trying to figure out a way to ask you to come to Toronto with me this summer, too–whenever the season ends, for however long you can get out of work, I want you up there with me.”
Vince let you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him again, sliding his arms underneath your legs to carry you to bed. You were tired all of a sudden, and you let him set you on his bed, watched as he carefully placed the necklace on his dresser. He climbed into bed next to you, shifting both of you around until he was mostly laying on top of you and you could wrap one arm around him and run your fingers through his curls with the other. 
“‘M sorry,” he whispered ten minutes later, long after you thought he was well on his way to sound asleep, the words mostly muffled into your chest. Your fingers paused until he made a plaintive sound and moved his head so you would keep going. You rolled your eyes a little. 
“Nothing to be sorry for,” you whispered back. Anything louder felt like it would break whatever spell had fallen over the darkness, the quiet and peace you were feeling.
“I love you,” Vince whispered again instead of explaining. “I love you.” 
You fell asleep like that, with your hand tangled in his hair, and your legs tangled together underneath the sheets, murmuring “I love you”s back and forth.
942 notes · View notes
mummybear · 5 years ago
Text
Teach You A Lesson
This Is Day 20 Of Roleplay May
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Words: 5081
Warnings: Smut, Dom Dean, Bratty Sub Reader, Teacher/Student, Blowjob (Face fucking), Spanking With Cane, Choking, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Name Calling, Sir Kink, Swearing. Think That’s It.
Characters: Professor Dean, Student Reader, Reader’s Best Friend Poppy.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Detention with hot substitute teacher, Mr Winchester, sees him trying to teach you a lesson.
A/N: Sorry my beautiful followers :) this is another late addition, I’m a little behind! But they are all still coming don’t worry! It’s safe to say I couldn’t have done this one anywhere near as well without my amazing Beta, Bee @negans-lucille-tblr​ She’s been a really massive help and I loves her :P 
Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this and it was worth the wait! ;)
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Last night had been freaking exhausting, you had stayed up late with your study group studying for a final exam, an exam that you were frankly wishing you could ignore forever. You sigh as you take your seat in class, luckily it was still free, even though you were late. Although you were clearly earlier than your teacher, judging by everyone chatting and the lack of someone shouting at the front of the room. Looking up at the board at the front of the class you could just about read the words that were scrawled across it.
‘Substitute teacher today, running late. Please wait.’
Sighing in annoyance at the words as if they were the reason for all of your problems. The last thing you needed was some substitute teacher who knew fuck all about the class. To top it off you’d been really needing to speak to your permanent teacher today, evidently she had other things to attend to today, so you were just gonna have to suck it up and wait.
You were nodding off slightly at your desk when your best friend elbowed you, quickly getting your attention. “Wake your fucking ass up and look at that.” Poppy hissed, nodding at the direction of the front of the class.
With a big yawn you sit up in your chair a little and stretch, your arms pausing on the way down at the sight in front of you. You had a substitute alright, but you weren’t aware that the class required a substitute for a model. Your arms immediately drop back to the table when his eyes find yours from across the classroom. He doesn’t say anything, merely smirks at you and looks away, writing his name on the board and yet your eyes are locked on him unable to look away. 
Twenty minutes into the lesson and you're on the edge of your seat, watching and listening to every word that’s formed with those perfect plump lips of his. 
“You’re staring and drooling,” Poppy laughs, pulling your attention away from the substitute for the first time since he’d walked into the room.
You can’t help but laugh when you look at her. “I’m admiring the view.” you reason with her, which apparently she finds really funny. 
“Oh you’re more than admiring.” She mocks you playfully. 
“Can you blame me! Besides, I’m hardly the only one.” Your defence seems self-evident when one of the girls half moans beside you, when he bends over to grab something. 
“I mean come on Pop, you could bounce a quarter off of that thing,” you groan shifting in your seat.
“Oh no arguments from me.” she grins, then you notice her face drop and she starts blushing hard moving away from her.
Before you can ask her what’s going on Mr Winchester is standing by your desk, making you jump when his large slaps hard against the table top.
“Glad that I’ve finally got your attention. Were you planning on paying attention at some point this afternoon?” he asks a little sarcastically, cocking his eyebrow at you.
“I don’t...I wasn’t…” clearing your throat you lick your lips, hoping to stop your stuttering voice as you look up into those green eyes. You almost moan at the way he’s looking down at you, but you manage to hold it back long enough to get your words out. 
“Yes sir. I’m sorry.” You swallow the lump in your throat when he smirks.
“Good. Well I’ll see you in detention after school and we’ll go over it again. Until you manage to grasp the concept of listening. Am I clear?” 
You hear hushed laughter around the room but all you can do is blush and nod. “Yes Sir. I’ll do better.” Your voice is so quiet you barely recognise it, with a swift nod he walks away, back to the front of the class.
Without turning around you know that Poppy is smiling. “What are you smiling at exactly?” You grumble, not taking your eyes off of the front of the class.
“How wet are you right now?” 
“Oh, fuck you.” you laugh, knowing that she knows you a little too well at this point and that she didn’t really need to fucking ask that question.
The end of class bell rings and you pack up your stuff, it takes you a little longer than usual for some reason. Maybe it’s the fact that your panties are still a little uncomfortable from earlier. 
“Don’t be late sweetheart. Or there will be an extra punishment.” Mr Winchester warns you as you attempt to slip from the room unnoticed.
The deep gravel of his voice makes you pause at the door and turn back to look at him.
“I won’t be sir.” you reply quickly with a small smile, yet there’s that part of you that wonders about what punishment he’s talking about. Especially with that mischievous glint that’s in his eyes. 
“What kind of punishment are we talking about though, Mr Winchester?” you ask curiously, the curve of your smile turns into a smirk as you take several steps back into the room.
Mr Winchester folds his arms across his broad chest, leaning back against his desk. Not even trying to hide the way that his eyes wander over your bare legs and your curves, before they finally move back up to your face. You’re standing in front of him before you can rethink your actions.
You’re standing straight and yet Mr Winchester practically towers over you. Biting your lip when the look on his face changes from playful to dangerous, sparking something inside you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time. 
“Don’t push your luck sweetheart. Girls like you need a firm hand and trust me, I know just how to deal with you.” The way he says that makes you shiver and take a step back. Looking up at him through your lashes as his tongue swipes across his pink lips. “Now, get moving, before you’re late to your next class.” 
You let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, “I can’t wait to find out just how you deal with me, Sir.” 
Mr Winchester’s long fingers wrap around your wrist when your fingers brush over his chest. You both hear his next class coming down the hall, loud steps and voices approaching quickly. He leans in closer, “do as you’re told unless you want to be bent over my desk in front of my next class...” He releases you as soon as the door opens and you step back with a smirk, not missing the dangerous look that crosses across his face once more, making you feel slightly giddy. You turn away from him, making sure to put an extra swing in your hips when you walk away.
 The bell for your final class rings and you leisurely pack away your things, making sure to take your time. When you finally leave the class you know that you’re already late to your detention and you can’t help but get excited about what Mr Winchester will have in store for you.
You spot him before you even get close to his classroom, the closer you get you can see that he looks pissed, but that only makes you bite back your smile.
“Get the fuck inside. Now!” he all but growls as soon as you’re close enough that nobody else can hear his low voice. “Oh sweetheart. You better wipe that smile off of your face right now.”
The door slams closed making you jump in anticipation, watching him lock it and pull down the blind on the door. You take the seat that he had set up for you at the front of the class. “Sorry i’m late Sir.” You smile cheekily, pushing up your tits as you lean forward against your arms on the desk.
Your belly rolls as he smirks at you, “no, you’re not. But you will be.” 
There’s that dangerous lilt to his voice that makes the throbbing between your legs return.
“Get up. I’ve got something to show you,” he demands quickly, walking over to his desk and opening a drawer.
Curiosity gets the better of you as you slip out from your table and walk over to his desk. He turns when you’re standing beside him, pulling out a long thin wooden cane. You feel yourself shift as your mouth goes dry, you look up and meet his eyes.
“Are you gonna spank me Sir?” You gasp feeling the cool wood move slowly up your thigh.
His free hand moves to grip your jaw and you can feel his thumb digging into the bone, which pulls a whimper from your lips. Humming low in his throat he leans in close so that his lips almost brush yours.
“I told you sweetheart. I know just what to do with you. You’re gonna be begging to be a good little girl for me by the time I'm done with you.” 
“I don’t beg,” you sass at him, quickly earning yourself a gentle warning tap of the cane against the backs of your thighs, which makes you bite into your lip trying to stop the noise from spilling past your lips. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
He chuckles darkly and releases your jaw from his tight grip, tapping your cheek with the palm of his hand. “Well, that’s about to change. Bend over and do not make me ask twice.” 
You turn to face his desk feeling his body press close against your back. 
“Go fuck yourself.” you giggle pushing your ass back against him.
Growling he roughly presses between your shoulders and forces you against the desk. 
“Stop being a cheeky little bitch or I’m gonna get really angry. Now, pull that skirt up, I wanna watch your ass turn red.”
You reach down and grip the hem of your skirt, wiggling it up your legs slowly, barely moving. However, he doesn’t seem in the mood and roughly pulls it up your thighs and over your ass.
“You’re such a tease. Mr Winchester,” you moan, feeling the cane move slowly up your thigh with the lightest touch, just barely tickling your skin as it moves over the globes of your ass. 
“You’re one to fuckin’ talk. I’m just gettin’ started little one, so I suggest you start doing as you’re told.” he all demands as one of his big hands smooths over the skin of your ass cheeks and squeezes harshly. 
“I want you to count them out for me and if anything gets too much we're gonna have a word that you can use, a word which stops everything,” he explains, keeping his tone even and his voice quiet.
“Please don’t. I’ll be good.” You pout looking back at him, failing miserably to hide your smile.
He’s pressed against your back, lips pressed to your ear as he chuckles.
“Uh huh. Yeah, I’m not totally convinced, honestly sweetheart. So that’s gonna be a real big no. You’re getting this because you deserve it. You really are such a little smart ass” 
“Yeah, well I am smart and you’re real hot when you’re angry.” You wink back at him when he finally stands back up again.
“Yeah well, we’ll just see about that. Now, pick a word.”
"Okay fine, how about, tree?” you reply with an edge to your voice.
“Good girl, but hold the attitude. Use it if you need it. That’s what it’s for, you understand?” Mr Winchester asks you.
“Yes Sir. I’m ready,” you breathe out feeling the cockiness leave you for a moment. His thumbs hook into the sides of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. His lips gently press against your ass cheek, making you whimper at the contrast of his soft lips and the slight scratch of his stubble. At the same time he bends, he picks up the discarded panties and pushes them into his pants pocket.
“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks, voice a little deeper than before.
“No Sir. Only with their hand but it wasn’t enough,” you explain wiggling your ass at him.
“Well, we’ll go slow this time. Just remember your word,” he reminds you firmly, “spread your legs for me. Show me what I’ve got to look forward to.” 
Your thighs are shaking in anticipation as you spread them, whimpering when you feel one of his fingers move through your already slick folds. He pulls back with a chuckle. A moan slips past your lips with the first measured and careful strike of the cane across both of your ass cheeks. “So wet already my little slut, and I've barely touched you. Don’t forget to count,” he teases you with that husky voice.
“Can’t you just fuck me Sir? You don’t need to punish me, don’t you wanna feel how tight my little pussy is?” you ask him teasingly.
“No. Now, stop being a brat and fuckin’ count,” he tells you, giving you a warning tap on your ass with his hand.
“One, Sir,” you moan, feeling the second hit sting a little harder, striking in almost the exact same place. But your lips remain shut and you just push back against him.
“Oh, you better keep counting. Or I'll give you twice as many.” 
“Oh fine. Spoilsport. Two,” you answer, not able to hide the shake in your voice when it’s quickly followed by another. “Fuck! Three!” You cry out as the sting of the cane hits you just under your ass cheeks.
“Such a filthy mouth,” he chuckles, another strike hitting you much harder than before.
“Fuck you! Four,” you whimper against the desk, feeling your fingers tighten against the wood. You gasp loudly when the next two come down in quick succession of each other.
“I swear if I have to tell you again, all you’re gonna get is a sore ass.” 
“So bossy,” you giggle, turning back to look at him and biting your lip.
“Do it,” he demands huskily.
“Fine. Five, six,” you grumble, pushing back towards him.
There’s another hit and you giggle hoping to wind him up, his hand grips your hip and holds you to the table as another one hits your skin.
“Seven.”
“You’re loving this aren’t you? Such a needy little slut, not so mouthy when you’re having your ass beat are you?” He laughs darkly, pushing the smoothness of the thin cane back and forth between your soaked folds. 
“No Sir, I just want it harder. If you can manage it.” You’re panting even with your snarky reply but you lift your head, just long enough to look over your shoulder and meet his darkened green eyes. Your laugh is quickly cut off by his voice.
“Oh yeah? Well, we can't have you enjoying it too much, can we?” he smirks. It's the filthiest smirk you’ve ever seen, sending a new wave of arousal through your body. This time you hear the cane move through the air before you feel it. When it hits your skin twice in a row you have to bite into your arm to stop the scream.
“Count. You wanna be a smart ass with me, you will fuckin’ learn,” he growls darkly. It turns out poking the bear may have been a bad idea but you couldn’t resist. Even now the throbbing between your thighs is stronger than the one beating across your ass. 
“Eight and nine,” you whimper, feeling your skin start to sweat.
“Better. One more, then we’ll see how good your gag reflex is my little slut, would you like that?” 
“Yes Sir,” you reply as seductively as you can at that moment.
“You want it here?” he chuckles when you push back into him, gently tapping against the lips of your soaked pussy with the cane, before he moves it down to the back of your thighs and taps again. “Or here?” He slowly moves back and forth between the two waiting for your answer.
“There Sir,” you moan when the cane moves back to your thighs.
“Such a shame, I’d love to watch you squirm when I spank that little pussy pink. Now say please.”
“Oh hell no,” you all but growl in reply, trying to get out from under his grip but he keeps you pinned to the table.
“I guess you just wanna go home then?”
“Fine. Please,” you snap back at him.
His words cause you to groan but that quickly turns into a scream of his name. Followed by, “ten!” 
Your body collapses against the desk and you hiss slightly as his hands smooth over your ass.
“You did so well baby girl, even if you were a mouthy little bitch. But fuck is that a sexy sight,” Dean praises you, pressing his lips to the sore throbbing skin of your ass. 
“So you did hear me say my name earlier this afternoon then?” He asks knowingly, pulling you up off the desk and turning you to face him.
“I tried to tell you I was listening,” you smile at him sickly sweet, hoping to get away with a little more than you might have otherwise. 
“Yeah well, forget it. From this point on you will call me Sir. Do you understand?” he demands firmly, you can’t help but blush with the way that he’s looking at you. Reminding you of a parent who’s disappointed with a child.
“What happens if I don’t?” you sass him, biting your lip when he steps closer, until he’s practically pressed up against you.
Grabbing your jaw the way he had earlier that day, his lips brush yours this time and you have to swallow the lump in your throat, feeling his grip tighten and his thumb dig into your bone once more.
“You’re such a fucking brat,” he growls roughly crushing his lips against yours. 
You’re completely taken by the kiss, every movement of his lips and tongue is so demanding and perfect. You moan into his mouth, dragging your teeth over his plump bottom lip. Dean growls, making you giggle, but it’s quickly cut off when his tongue tangles with your own and his hand fists in the back of your hair. Tugging it hard, he pulls your lips away from his.
“Get on your knees and open up, let’s see how much of a cock slut you are.” 
“Yes Sir.” You grin up at him, wincing a little when his grip on your hair adjusts and he frees his cock from its tight confines. You help him pull the suit pants and boxers down his legs. When you’re finished you look up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.
He taps his cock against your closed lips.
“Open. Now,” he growls his warning, narrowing darkened green eyes at you. You keep smiling as you part your lips and stick out your tongue. Kitten licking the tip and dragging your nails down the back of his thighs. You watch him grit his teeth and his grip tightens in your hair, making you whimper but you don’t give in.
“What’s wrong Sir? I thought you liked teasing, you changed your mind?” you pout, looking up at him as innocently as you can manage.
Dean’s free hand grips your jaw as he meets your eyes and squeezes roughly, “fuckin’ open. Now. Or you can go home and get yourself off,” he threatens, voice thick with annoyance and you can’t help but giggle behind closed lips.
Feeling the ache in your jaw paired with the threat of him not getting you off causes you to finally give in and open your mouth. Smirking down at you, Dean thrusts his hips forward roughly until his cock bumps against the back of your throat.
“Relax and breathe. You can do better than that, can’t you my little slut?” he mocks, pulling his cock almost all of the way out of your mouth before repeating his actions.
You try your best to relax your throat but he’s so thick it’s almost impossible for your gag reflex not to kick in. You grip his thick thighs tightly when you gag again, feeling the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Drool is leaking from the corners of your lips as you let him use your throat, doing your best to breathe through your nose. You cough and gasp for air when he pulls out of your mouth letting you breathe.
“Fuck you look good on your knees, such a good mouth when it’s stuffed full.” Dean groans, wiping the spit on your chin away with his thumb. “Surprised you’re not begging to have that little pussy filled yet.” 
“I told you Sir, I don’t beg.” you remind him with a cocky smirk on your lips. 
Dean hauls you up from the floor by your hair and pushes you back against the desk behind you. He lifts you until you're sitting on the surface. You can’t help but wince as the sting from the cane's whips shoots across your skin but Dean continues stepping between your legs.
“You sure baby girl? You sure you don’t want my big thick cock stretching out that tight little cunt?” He asks with a smirk, tugging you towards the edge of the desk so that his cock is pressed against your soaking wet heat.
“Oh, I want it, Mr Winchester. I’m just not gonna beg for it.” 
You smile reaching up and pulling his tie free from his jumper and wrapping it around your hand. 
He pulls his hips back and moves a hand between you both, pushing two fingers inside your tight wet pussy easily. Cocking his eyebrow he smirks, curling his fingers as he starts to move them inside you and his thumb brushes over your clit, back and forth teasingly. He chuckles when a moan is forced from your lips and you roll your hips down into his hand.
“So, is that still a no? If my fingers feel that good, just imagine how good my cock would feel,” he challenges you, licking his lips when you let out another deep moan and your free hand moves from the desk to grip his wrist, feeling it tense as he twists it, his muscles flexing as his hand moves.
“F-Fuck you!” you gasp, squeezing your eyes closed when he speeds up the movements of his fingers.
“Now that’s not very nice, is it little girl? You’re gonna beg for my cock or you don’t get to come.” The grip you have on his tie tightens as you buck your hips against his hand, chasing your release but you keep your lips tightly shut. However, before you can get there Dean removes his fingers and pushes them between his lips, leaving you a whimpering mess on the desk, slick soaking your inner thighs and you groan feeling your orgasm ebb away. 
“I’ve got all night, so either you can keep pushin’ me or you can do as you’re fuckin’ told.” 
You grumble something under your breath and Dean smirks, getting his lips closer to yours and then suddenly he turns his head, pressing his lips to your ear.
“Say it again.” He practically purrs, dragging his teeth over your earlobe and wrapping his hand around your throat. It just rests there, the pressure practically non-existent, but God does it feel good.
“I already said it once, Dean. I’m not saying it again,” you grumble, meeting his dark green eyes when he moves his head to look at you again.
“What did you just call me?” he growls deep in his chest, fingers tightening around your throat.
“You fuckin’ heard me,” you say, biting back your smile when his other hand wraps in the back of your hair and he pulls harshly.
“Maybe I should just use your throat again, get myself off and let you sort yourself out. What do you think slut? It’s your last chance to do as you’re told.”  
“Fine. Fuck me, please!” you practically shout.
“You can do better than that.” He seems to think for a moment before a smirk stretches across his perfect lips. “I want you to say, I’m such a needy little cock slut, pretty please will you fuck me Sir.” He laughs, seeing the annoyance cross your face when he releases your throat and wraps his hand around his aching cock and starts pumping it in his fist.
His cock nudges your entrance, just the swollen head of it slipping in and out repeatedly as he bites into his lip, teasing you mercilessly until you start to feel your orgasm getting closer…  Then he stops,  waiting for it to go away completely before he starts all over again. Your heart is racing in your chest and you can hear your blood pumping in your ears. You meet his eyes again and yet another moan is ripped from your chest. Your voice is shaking when you finally speak. 
“I’m such a needy little cock slut. Pretty please will you fuck me,  Sir?”
Your mouth drops open when he snaps his hips, thrusting forward roughly, burying his cock inside you to the hilt so that his balls are pressed against your ass.
“See. That wasn’t so hard was it? All you had to do was admit you wanted this tight little cunt filled with my cock,” he mocks you, pulling you into another demanding kiss as he picks up a punishing rhythm. The kiss is messy and nowhere near as controlled as your first, it’s all teeth and tongues. Then you feel it, sparking in the pit of your stomach like a blazing fire and heat is prickling across your skin. “You gonna come all over my cock my little slut?” Dean grunts feeling your walls flutter around him as your pussy spasms with every snap of his hips.
“Fucking God. Yes! Yes! Please Sir, faster,” you beg, desperate for the release you’re right on the edge of.
“Fuck! Such a good girl. Go on, you can do it. Show me those pretty eyes when you come baby. Look at me.” He moans his demand as you start to thrust against him matching his pace the best you can to chase your release.
Your entire body arches against him when your orgasm hits, all you can hear are your own moans and Dean’s grunting as he pushes through your release.
He doesn’t give you time to come down from your orgasm before he turns you over and presses you down into the desk. Pulling your hips up he pushes back inside you with ease, groaning when your walls stretch and clench around him again. His fingers start to dig bruisingly into your hips but it all feels so damn good. 
You sit up, resting your hands against the desk, moaning loudly when one of his hands fists in your hair and he smacks your still red ass with his hand, pulling a whine from your lips as it stings that much harder.
“Come on, Sir, you can do better than that. Wanna feel you inside me for days, fuck me like you mean it,” you taunt him, feeling him respond immediately, the snap of his hips somehow getting harder and faster. The echo of your ass bouncing off of his hips sounds loudly around the room, coupled with your moans and whimpers, mixing with his growls, grunts and groans. “You gonna fill me up Sir?” 
As soon as the words are out of your mouth he tugs harder on your hair, forcing you back against his chest and rips your shirt in half.
“You talk too fuckin’ much,” he grunts against your neck, cupping your bra clad breast in one of his big hands as his hips continue to slam into your ass. His free hand wraps around your throat and keeps you there, this time his fingers tighten and you can’t hold back the gasp.
“Come on slut, rub that little clit for me, make yourself come. Wanna feel that tight cunt squeeze me again,” he growls against your neck as he drags his teeth along the skin.
This time you do as he asks, wanting nothing more than to come all over the thick cock that’s buried deep inside you.
“So close, Sir. Gonna come all over your cock again,” you whine desperately, your fingers move quickly over the tightly wound bundle of nerves.
Then the hand cupping one of your tits wraps around your waist and you scream as fucks into you almost painfully, practically ripping the last orgasm from you. He’s not far behind, you feel his hips start to stutter as your thighs shake from the intense orgasm you had just endured. You're sure if he wasn’t holding you up you would be on the floor.
“Fuck. Y/N.” Dean growls when he finally falls over the edge and his own orgasm hits hard, he throws his head back with the final pumps of his hips and he fills you so deep, you can feel his release leaking from your abused cunt and down his cock.
Pulling his cock from your tight wet heat,Dean stumbles back with his arms around you, making you laugh when you both fall awkwardly into his desk chair. His ass just barely in the seat and yours on his thigh. You drop your head back against his shoulder with a lazy smile, seeing Dean return it as he presses a quick but firm kiss to your lips.
“Jesus, woman. That was something else.” Dean grins brushing the sweaty hair back from your forehead.
“It sure was, Sir.” you smirk, tucking his tie back inside his jumper.
“I think you can probably just call me Dean now.” His wink still manages to do things to you. As you stand to pull down your skirt, he follows you, pushing his softening cock back into his boxers and does his belt up.
“Okay well, are you working again tomorrow Dean?” 
“Hmm, yeah. I think I might just have to be. Why were you lookin’ for round two?” He asks knowingly, gripping your thigh roughly. 
“Because as it turns out you do have detention again tomorrow.”
“Guess I can get my panties back then huh?” 
“Possibly. I guess we’ll see if you’ve learnt your lesson and you can be a good girl.”
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ailec-12 · 3 years ago
Note
Ahhhhhhh congrats to reaching 100!!! It‘s super deserved! Could I request something for House Potter, please? Like, maybe something with Sev and Sirius along the lines of hurt/comfort? But no pressure, if that is too much or would be too fast-forward into the story! :) thanks!!
Thank you so much, Anon, you're so sweet! I'm sorry you've had to wait so long to see this prompt done —I hope you'll actually see it!—, especially since it was the first one I started to write back in October. I just got a little stuck with it halfway through, but I loved it and hope you'll enjoy it, too.
I decided to take today off to rest and, though I know I probably shouldn't have, I couldn't help sitting down and finally finishing this prompt. I don't have the energy to edit it, but I wanted to post it anyway.
So, this is set in the future, but let's imagine Sev and Sirius have made no progress whatsoever in the meantime. Also, the Potters have either moved out or gone on holiday.
Also on AO3.
No Harm Done
He told himself, as he took James’s broom without breathing a word of it to anyone, that it was okay. James did let him have it, so it was none of Sirius’s business what Severus did with it. A voice in his head begged to differ, but he ignored it and ploughed on.
He was nervous and excited, although, in all honesty, it was hard to distinguish one feeling from the other. After all, the clench in his stomach and the tingling in his fingers seemed to fit well together. It was the first time he would be flying alone and his mouth had become completely dry long before he had sneaked out the broom. Still, he had no doubts about wanting to carry on with his plan and Sirius, who had come to watch over them and was currently sleeping on the sofa with Harry, did not ever need to know.
The day was clear, if a little windy. Severus mounted and kicked the ground once, firmly. The broom took off at once and he gripped the handle tightly before relaxing his grip ever so slightly.
Flying felt great, exhilarating. Any fears he may have harboured stayed well below him.
He was not confident enough yet to try some of the stunts that James performed as easily as breathing. However, he enjoying riding higher than any of the adults would likely have allowed as well as going round and round in progressively smaller circles. He was enjoying himself so much that, when he started to descend, he miscalculated the higher speed he had achieved. When he saw the ground come closer far too fast, he pulled up the handle abruptly and the broom responded with a sharp jump. Startled, Severus saw his own fall in slow motion: the way his hands failed to regain hold of the wood, how his body flew a bit higher than the broom and how the ground greeting him face first. The world around him went deadly silent.
The impact left no air in his lungs. He tried to take a breath and succeeded after a few desperate attempts. The pain came afterwards. Gingerly, he sat up to examine the damage. Although the grass had surely softened his fall, one of his arms hurt from the wrist to the elbow. His jumper was covered with green stains, as were his jeans. Luckily, he had not ripped anything off, but his knees hurt when he stood up.
All these thoughts were forgotten once he spotted the broom. James’s racing broom, the once he had used for matches at Hogwarts. Severus’s blood ran cold. If he had broken the damn thing…
His hands were shaking uncontrollably when he took it, but his heart began to beat again as he observed no major damage. There were some sticks that stuck out of place and a few scratches on the handle that would not look amiss in a well-worn broom —that is, if James did not keep his in prime condition. He was bound to notice, Severus knew, fearing the moment. He might be lucky enough that James may just think he forgot to fix it before putting it away the last time he rode it. Severus was aware that he was not half bad at lying and, although it left a bitter taste on his tongue sometimes, he was too much of a coward to take the blame if he could avoid it.
And yet, his thoughts were useless, for he never had the chance to do any of it. Halfway through the house, the back door slammed open and revealed Sirius, thus freezing Severus on the spot.
“Where the—” Sirius started to yell. Then, he saw Severus and strode in his direction. The boy gripped the broom, but did not move. “What the fuck, Snape? You were flying?”
His hands were trembling again as he offered the broom. He had been caught, so there was nothing to do but manage the damage.
“I didn’t break it, it’s fine,” he said mulishly, as if that could cover up the fact that he was unable to look up, instead keeping his eyes focused on Sirius’s tight fists.
“What the hell happened to you, though? Did you roll down a hill? Wait, did you fall while you were flying?” Sirius did not snatch the broom while berating him, as Severus had expected. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”
His tone became strangely flat when delivering the last sentence and the boy was unsure how he should interpret it. What could Sirius plan to do with that information?
“I’m fine,” he snapped, just in case.
Sirius’s fists relaxed a little.
“Really? So blood just comes out of your knee on occasion?”
His black eyes snapped down and he saw a darker stain than the ones from grass and dirt. His cheeks became warmer and he faced Sirius’s smirk, offering a scowl of his own.
“I’m fine. May I go to clean up?”
His heart was beating very fast. What if Sirius said ‘no’? Severus did not understand why that was so frightening. The most the man could do was not let him get out of his dirty clothes, maybe force him to stand in a corner all day until Lily and James got home past his bedtime. Sirius could not hurt him, they would not allow it —they had promised. And yet, Severus waited with bated breath for the answer.
“Let me check first. I don’t need anyone come down on me ‘cause I neglected you.”
For some reason, that did it. Severus dropped the broom and made a dash for the door that led inside the house. ‘Stupid,’ he would think a second later, when he realised he should have run in the opposite direction, even if the open field did not feel any safer when the other was a grown wizard with a wand.
Before he was aware of what was happening, there was something encircling his waist and trapping him.
“L– Let me go!” He could not help the way his voice sounded high pitched and scared. He did not want anyone to know he was scared.
He hit Sirius’s arm and tried to kick him, too. He struggled for a while and did not stop to see whether he was doing any real damage. He felt numb and detached and maybe fear was still there despite his best efforts.
“Ow, ow! Snape, stop! Bollocks, you twat, I was j– Okay, that’s it!”
And then, the ground under his feet disappeared. He may have let out a pathetic shrill until he got hold of himself, shut his eyes very tightly and kept still. His breathes were the only sound for a short second. Then, a likely livid Sirius carried him inside the house, stomping all the while. He took him to the living room and put him down in front of the couch. Nearby, Harry was playing with his moving animal toys.
“Sit down,” Sirius growled and Severus obeyed.
At the same time, Harry stumbled over them and demanded,
“Sev, play!”
The older boy only shook his head, leaving Sirius to explain just in how much trouble he was at the moment.
“Harry, I’ve got an important mission for you,” Sirius said, solemnly but still warmer than he ever addressed Severus. The toddler looked up. “You watch that Snape stays put till I come back, all right?”
Harry nodded, reciprocating the solemnity, and turning back around, repeated his request to play together. Severus refused in silence, letting his hair fall on his face and focusing on not letting fall the tears that had started to gather in his eyes.
He had mucked it up really badly that time. He had panicked and attacked an adult —a man that James considered his own brother. The world was a blur and his ragged breaths flooded his ears.
“Snape.”
An impatient voice broke his train of thought. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps hours. He looked up and saw a very irritated Sirius holding up a familiar blue bottle in one hand and his wand in another.
“Calmer now, aren’t you?” the man huffed. “Roll up your trouser leg, let me see what we’re dealing with.”
Severus shook his head vehemently. He did not understand what was going on, but his eyes were still fixed on the wand. His breathing was still making that horrible sound.
“Hurt?” pipped up Harry somewhere next to him.
“Yeah, mate, Snape’s hurt and too ruddy stubborn to let me help.”
Help? What did Sirius understand for help when it came down to a brat like him?
“No ‘Nape, Sev!” Harry corrected all of a sudden, drawing Severus’s attention to the pair.
There was a small chubby finger pointed at him and, when he looked at Sirius —his face, not his wand—, the man had a bemused expression.
“Right,” he said after a moment, turning his terrible grey eyes towards Severus. “Well, Sev, will you please roll up your trouser leg so I can heal your knee?”
Sirius dragged the short nickname with all the smugness he was able to muster and the boy found he did not like it any better than hearing his surname.
“I’m fine,” he tried once again, but his voice sounded small and frightened as his anger failed to rise.
Sirius let out a weary sigh and handed him the blue bottle. After looking between the children, he decided to put his wand between his teeth. Then, with no hurry, he proceeded to pull up Severus’s damaged trousers himself.
The bottle trembled in his grasp. The boy bit his lip and tightened his fingers around it. Staying still was his only task now.
Sirius was excruciatingly slow until he finally revealed the cut on his knee. It had stopped bleeding and clearly did not merit so much care, but there was no comment on it or the mess it had made. In fact, for once, Sirius forwent his habitual cutting remarks and kept mostly quiet, only speaking to assure Harry that everything was okay.
Severus was pretty sure he stopped breathing when the wand came near him. Yet, he did not move. He felt something warm and, when he looked down, the cut had disappeared. A cold feeling ensued as Sirius washed the dry blood away with a cloth under Severus’s fascinated gaze. The bottle was taken from his hands as Sirius began to apply it on his knee, even though the bruise had not appeared yet.
Next, the man rolled up his other trouser leg.
“Does it hurt here, too?”
Severus was about to shake his head again, but Sirius was staring at him intently and the boy knew his lie would be caught.
“Just a little,” he mumbled, looking back down.
Some balm was applied on that area as well without another word. Severus pondered whether he could ask for some for his wrist and elbow, but Sirius proceeded to examine his arms himself. The boy could not help a sharp intake of breath when Sirius took hold of his wrist.
“This has swollen.”
“It’s not broken,” Severus hurried to assure.
Sirius frowned at him, although he did not look angry.
“No, it’s not, but let me…”
And he moved his wand in a different pattern until both the redness and swelling had faded away. Still, he applied some balm there and on his elbow. Severus had no idea whether he should be more surprised that Sirius was healing him or that he apparently knew where to look for injuries.
At long last, they were done and Sirius obliged Harry by sitting him on his lap. A dense silence settled between him and Severus, who tried to still his fingers by burying them in the hem of his jumper. Eventually, the boy was the one to break the quiet.
“The broom…” he started, peeking at the open door, in the direction where the magical object remained lying on the grass.
“Accio Prongs’s broom.”
Harry was very excited to see his father’s broom flying towards them and Sirius let him grab the end of the handle while he examined it. Severus could not relax completely, but at least the man’s face was not giving him any more reason to panic.
“We’ve all fallen on our arses while riding; more than once, actually,” Sirius remarked, almost offhandedly. Then, he looked up, straight into Severus’s black eyes. “There’s no harm done, so I suppose no one needs to know… as long as you’re careful next time and let someone know before flying off.”
The unexpected reprieve from Sirius of all people took a moment to register in Severus’s brain. He hurried to wipe the shock off his face and nodded with all his might.
“I will, I swear!”
The man looked at him for a bit longer, until he turned to his godson with a big smirk.
“Harry, you up for beating Severus at Exploding Snap?”
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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago
Text
Spider On The Wall | Peter Parker
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Request:  Hey :) could you write something about the reader having a major crush on Spiderman and being Peter's friend, but not being aware that he's spiderman, so she's like: fuck he can destroy me with that super strenght and Peter gets a boner cause damn he would love to destroy you as well? lol - Anon
A/N: It might not be great, but I hope you like it anyway. Feel free to send me some feedback, it’d be much appreciated. And don’t forget that requests are open xx
Warnings: It’s a lil smutty (handjob, blowjob)
The thing was, when Peter had became Spiderman, he spared no thought on how you would react to the webslinger in that moment. All he wanted was to fight crime, and get justice for the victims in Queens.
Perhaps he hadn’t thought about your reaction to the boy in red and blue because you had never been one to hype up the idea of superheroes. He could quote, once you had supposed, that you had ‘zero attraction’ to anyone from another planet or someone with superpowers. 
And so he hadn’t suspected you to be spending your time ogling at an ass kicking vigilante, if you could even call him that. Falcon said that he spoke too much when they were fighting, but in all fairness, he still kicked his ass...
That was a few months ago now, that whole hero on hero fiasco. And to his luck, the secret of his identity was safe, from those that he fought against and his loved ones. Except Aunt May... and Ned... Okay, only you. But he was afraid that your boredom of anyone genetically exceptional would dictate the way you felt about him, or didn��t. And in all fairness, those two finding out his truth had been an accident.
Those seemed to be happening too much lately. The only thing to keep him preoccupied was the Stark internship, what wasn’t what it sounded like at all, it was a cover. Even today, when he had been shadowing Mr Stark, he broke a test tube when trying to explain how he makes the suit’s webbing, and then he got stuck in an elevator because FRIDAY was being reprogrammed, and she mistook him saying ‘stop’ as a message to her.
But actually, he was on a call with you, listening to you making fun of a song a lady of the street had played. It was about the Spiderman, being able to apparently do whatever a spider could do. So when he returned home, he had not been expecting to hear the music coming from his room, speaking about him.
He smirked as he opened the door, watching as you laid on his bed, eyes closed, rocking your socked feet to the tune. “I thought you said it was annoying.” He counteracted your earlier statement, making you jump at the sound of his voice.
Aunt May had went out for her weekly shop, so you had expected to have the place to yourself after she had let you in for an hour or so. But Peter was early, and clearly enjoying the redness that was growing on your face.
“It is!” You defended yourself, not wanting your friend to find out your little secret. “But admittedly it’s catchy, so...” You dragged out, hoping that would be enough to make him shove off and leave you alone.
When you realised that the song was still playing, you grabbed your phone, stopping it. “Did you download it?” He asked seriously, astounded by the fact. He saw that it was in your music app, so you must have.
“Well who knows, maybe it will get me to soften up to the idea of a hot guy swinging around the neighbourhood in blue leggings.”
“They aren’t leggings.” He whined, disregarding the other thing that you had said for a second, until, “you think he’s hot?” Peter couldn’t believe it, but if that was the case, then he was feeling jealous at the thought of himself. The only thing was, that you didn’t know that he was that guy.
“I’m optimistic.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulder, trying to not be too open with your opinion. If he knew that you had a thing for Spiderman, you would never hear the end of it. “And plus, everyone thinks he is.”
“They do?” He knew that all of your peers at school perceived him as some sort of god, at least practically, even Flash. But the fact that they found his ulterior attractive gave him some sort of silent confidence. The only problem was, that you seemed more interested in his disguise instead of the real him; your friend.
“Yeah, I mean fuck, he could totally destroy me with his super strength and I wouldn’t care if I was incapable of getting up in the morning. Or the morning after that, or... well, you get the picture.” Yes he did, and it was very vivid. His mouth was gaped open at your confession, and he tried to think of anything that would get his mind off the images that were blurring through his mind.
He couldn’t help it, he was a teenage boy. So he as he thought, he came to one conclusion that would change the topic, although not really. “But you’re a virgin!” He squeaked.
No that didn’t help. Right now, he felt like he knew too much about you. And just the idea made him sigh in frustration, and then he felt it. He had gone hard, and as he dreaded to look down, your eyes followed his gaze, clamping a hand over your mouth, covering your amused giggles.
“Don’t tell me that you have a thing for Spiderman too!” You laughed, making Peter shuffle and try to tug down his shirt, but to no avail did his efforts cover much.
“I don’t.” He wasn’t that vain. In respect you tried to look away, but you just couldn’t, it was practically right in front of you! And so you continued to laugh at the cost of his dignity, feeling bad for your friend at the same time.
“Then what gave you that?” You went to point at it, but you were too close. Your fingertip grazed the bulge in his jeans, making Peter’s eyes widen in shock as he let out a whimper. “Shit, sorry.”
His whole body had gone stiff at the contact, not just that one limb. He was frozen, clearly, and as you knew, had never had anyone touch him there, or really anywhere for that matter.
“Do you want me to leave, so you can, y’know, fix yourself up?” On instinct, you bit your lip, slightly nervous in this situation. As Peter had said, you were a virgin, this was all new territory to you too. “Or... do you want me to maybe, I don’t know... help?” At that thought, you shook your head, ashamed at your own offer. “Never mind, that’s stupid, why would I-”
“Would you?” He was sheepish, and with good reason. He didn’t want to cross a line, he knew that if you left right now, things would be awkward for a while, and then you would never get the real answer of why he had gotten a hard on.
His question had you struck with shock. Yes, when you said it you had been serious, but you had never expected him to actually agree with that condition. “You sure?”
You needed his consent if you were going to go ahead (no pun intended) and do anything to his body. This had to be what he wanted, because these first steps were things that you could ever retake, they weren’t like drafts in class.
“Yeah.” His composure had relaxed from how it had paused. At that he let out a deep breath, relieved that he had even managed to answer you with words. The nervousness that he was feeling, you could relate to.
The two of you were friends. Nothing more, as much as either of you unknowingly wanted to be. Sure, a couple years back you had kissed, but that was just to get the heat of the first kisses off of the both of your chests. And since then, you had never paired your lips with each other’s, let alone another’s.
At his answer, you stood, looking expectedly, dragging him by the sleeve to switch places with him. “Sit down.” You motioned at the edge of his bed with a nod, and he looked back at the portion of covered mattress, before he complied with your command.
You wanted him to be comfortable, you cared about him, a lot. Possibly more than a friend should. Clumsily, you shuffled onto your knees, feeling the carpet through the rips in the knees of your jeans.
You reached towards his belt, but the proximity that your hands were on made his hips buck up in the air. His body was eager, excited. But nevertheless, your fingers continued their route, grabbing onto the pleather and unbuckling it, until you had a free path towards his zipper.
Dragging the closing of metal down, and shimmying the rest of the fabric a little ways down his thighs, you were left with one layer. His boxers. It was dawning on you that this was all happening all so suddenly. Peter noticed the anxiety painting your face, and so he spoke up about it.
“Are you okay?” If you had changed your mind, that was okay. If this wasn’t the position that you were wanting to be put in, then you wouldn’t have to continue. Although you were the one about to do the dirty work, it was still half about you and your emotions.
“Yeah.” Nodding your head, you reached up and began toying with the blue plaid that was covering his nether region, running your fingers below the elastic band slightly. “Just settling into this, it’s new and everything.”
A small smile played at your face, and Peter reached down and began to play with your hair, but not with a sexual intention. He often noticed that when you were tired, or even scared about an oncoming exam, you would do so yourself. And his attempt at calming you worked, and as a result, you dragged the blocking material down, leaving his lower half exposed.
This was the first time that you had seen a penis in person, and at the sight alone your eyes widened. You guessed he was average size, perhaps he was more, but at the end of the day, you had nothing to compare it to. It wouldn’t matter whether it was or not, after all, genitals didn’t define a person.
But still, it was weighing on your mind as you reached forward and took a hold of it in your dominant hand. At your light grasp, Peter threw his head back, clenching his jaw. It felt so much different when it was somebody else’s hand, he realised.
You began moving your hand in soft jerking motions, leaning your head towards the action in interest until a thought appeared in your mind. Sure, hands worked, but so did your mouth, and so you brought the tip to your lips, engulfing it out of curiosity.
The feeling of having something so filling and warm in your mouth was strange. But it wasn’t bad, and so you suckled around the head, letting your eyes roam until they landed on Peter who had now began fisting his own hair and sheets.
“Fuck.” He breathed, with sweat collecting upon his face. It felt so good, possibly even too much. And then you attempted to take him a little further into your mouth, in the direction of the back of your cheek, and with that, he was plunged into pleasure. “I think I’m gonna -” He tried to warn you, but he cut himself off with a groan.
You hadn’t pulled away, instead you had rested your chin upon his thigh, taking everything that he had to give you. Swallowing, frowning at the unusual taste, you pulled him out of your mouth, extensively breathing, surprised with how you had handled the situation, and well, him.
His breathing was still pretty heavy too, but he gave himself a moment to laugh euphorically. “So... you like Spiderman?”
Wiping your mouth, you shook your head at his comment. Of course he had to bring that back up.
260 notes · View notes
kaiqarker · 4 years ago
Text
bottle green reflections | xavier plympton
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pairing: xavier plympton x reader
warnings: angst?
summary: even after years of being bound to the same place, you and xavier still don’t see eye to eye, and it seems like you never will. until, however, secrets are revealed and the both of you delve past the surface to uncover something that changes everything.
a/n: this was originally supposed to be a smut but it felt right to end here. maybe a part 2?
“I HATE HIM.” SHE OUTWARDLY EXPRESSED to chet, who was sprawled out on the dock beside her. It felt as though she was only talking to the open air, though, because chet barely acknowledged her declaration.
eventually, there was subtle movement seen out of the corner of her eye, chet shifting to get more comfortable, and all he managed to give her was an “uh huh”.
she didn’t let his lack of enthusiasm bother her; it was one of the reasons she liked chet and befriended him to begin with. even as a ghost, he was a pretty laid back person. he spent most of his time sunbathing, huddled up on a log next to a brewing campfire, and getting frivolous with just about any other ghost here — besides her. she was one of the few spirits left here that had yet to put her hands all over his impressive, athletic body, and that was a mutual decision. not that neither of them were particularly unattractive, because they were, but their unexpected bond meant too much to them to bend the platonic nature of their relationship.
her attention towards her nonchalant best friend, who was sporting sunglasses and allowing his skin to golden with the absence of a shirt, averted and she was once again squinting at the three figures across the lake. there was montana in her bold red bikini, another one of her friends and one of the people that made the afterlife not so boring. her boyfriend, trevor, was at her side, an arm swung around her neck while he had his head thrown back in laughter. that was no surprise; montana and trevor always seemed happy around each other.
then, finally, there was him.
she could see his vibrant pink swim trunks from here, how low they hung on his waist and contrasted with his pale skin. she watched him skip a stone, throwing his arm back, flicking his wrist, and sending it forward. he was good at it, which was disappointing. she would have loved to see him fail.
even through narrowed eyes and pursed lips, just like all the other spiteful times she gazed at him from afar, she couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. dazzling blue eyes accompanied the smooth planes and angular structure of his symmetrical face. his bleached hair, which was normally styled to perfection, was slicked back and wet from swimming. she was glad she wasn’t close enough to see the droplets of water glide over his taunt body, the muscle he normally hid underneath pastel clothing now on show. she despised any thoughts that deemed him attractive.
it wasn’t long before he stilled completely, his back facing the beaming couple and his throwing-arm going limp by his side. his head tilted, and his eyes that were casually roaming the lake stopped and settled on the dock. she held her breath when he noticed her, knowing she should turn away and feign indifference, but she didn’t. she began to even wonder if he could recognize her from the distance.
when his lips curved into a smirk and he went as far as to wave at her, it was clear that he could. his taunting gestures were enough to make her growl lowly, that helpless feeling dissolving into something familiar, her burning hatred for the one and only xavier plympton.
not being able to stare at that stupid look on his face for any longer, she let herself fall backwards onto the heated planks of the dock. “i really hate him.”
“xavier isn’t as bad as you think.” chet spoke up from beside her. this time he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and turned his head towards her.
“i know he’s your friend and all, but i have a valid reason to hate him.” she protested, face scrunched up in annoyance because even though she was talking to chet, she couldn’t stop thinking about xavier and every part of his maddening behavior. “he murdered me.”
chet sighed at her response, and for once, he appeared conflicted. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say.
“actually, you know-“
she interrupts him before he could finish. “and you know, after years of being stuck here together, not once has he shown any remorse. mostly everyone is evolved now and if they had a murderous phase, they talk about how they regret what they’ve done. xavier has never apologized to me. he’s never tried to make it up to me. in fact, i think he likes how mad i am. gives him some sick sense of pleasure in death. he wants to torture me.”
“he does enjoy getting you riled up, i can tell you that.” chet agrees. he tips his sunglasses back up and stares upward at the tinted sky. she has the urge to continue talking, because even though it may not seem like it, chet was a really great listener.
instead, she decides to allow him some peace and quiet. she leans up on her elbows, daring to glance across the lake again. relief washes over her when she sees that the trio were no longer there and had wandered elsewhere. she didn’t dwell on the slight twinge of disappointment she had.
humming delightedly, the girl shuffled upwards until she was sitting on the edge and her feet skimmed the surface of the water. she always desperately craved moments like this one, moments of tranquility. when you’re a ghost, cursed to roam the campground where numerous massacres occurred, it was rare.
along the relatively still waters, something caught her eye when peering downward. ever-so-slowly floating in her direction, a glass bottle bobbed along the surface. it was sealed with a cork and reflected green hues of sunlight, and as it drifted closer, she could make out that there was something inside.
reaching down before it diverted more out of her path, her fingertips managed to wrap around the neck, lifting it from the lake. she examined it with her small hands, brows furrowing in concentration. she doesn’t know how or why the bottle had managed to be thrown into the lake, but after seeing that there’s a folded piece of paper inside, she figures that will give her answers.
there’s barley any noise when she yanks the cork out. she tips the bottle upside down, slender fingers allowing her to slide the note out. after she unfolds it and her curiosity simmers, her calmness is thrown out the window.
do you like what you see?
- xavier
nostrils flared, her eyes roam the expanse of the lake again. although he was no longer out in the open, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was hidden in the surrounding trees, waiting to see her reaction to his note in a bottle. she could picture himself clearly with his provoking smile and devious eyes, basking in how irritated she was.
with that image imprinted into her mind, she balled up the slip of paper and tossed it back into the water. she was going to do the same with the bottle, ready to watch it fill with water and sink to the bottom, but once she grasped it, she got distracted by her own reflection.
a clenched jaw, unforgiving eyes, a mouth morphed into a snarl stared back at her. she was almost taken back by how furious she looked even though she felt the rage invade all of her senses. it only took one simple action from him to set her off. she couldn’t remember anyone ever making her feel like this, so boldly and so intensely.
she vowed then and there that their dynamic was going to change. it was time for xavier to get a taste of his own medicine, a plan already forming in her determined mind.
SNICKERING AND THE CRINKLING OF beer cans resonated around the campfire. chet was settled on the log beside her, chugging his fifth can like his afterlife depended on it. montana and trevor were across from them, whispering things to each other that, even out of ear shot, she knew were dirty. a few others lingered, wanting in on the two cases of beer left by a couple when they were spooked out of the camp earlier today. they rarely had people wander in nowadays, but it was better to scare them away rather than let them become apart of the bloodshed.
xavier was nowhere to be found, which was extremely disappointing. she had ran through ideas all day, accumulating all the vile words and maddening gestures she could think of. she was well aware of his history, knew exactly what buttons to push and sensitive topics to bring up. she could picture the darkening of his crystal blue eyes and the balling up of his fists when she finally got him to snap, becoming that ruthless person she knew he still was.
it didn’t matter how many roaming outsiders he spared or charming smiles he offered to brighten up everyone’s doomed existence. xavier has and always will be someone she could never trust. and if he was going to go out of his way to torment her for the rest of eternity, she would do the same.
no longer having the motivation to act like she was actually having fun, she sat her own can by her feet and rested her chin in her palm. at first, she glanced up at the sky, seeing the same vast blackness she always did when night draped over the camp; she couldn’t remember the last time she saw stars. then, her eyes roamed the circle of fellow ghosts, settling on chet after one rotation.
chet looked back at her, a smile slowly spreading across his flushed face. he seemed rather lively for someone who was dead. “giving up?”
“giving up?” the girl repeated, frowning. “giving up on what?”
“waiting for him.” chet answers. her confusion becomes more evident on her face, something that makes him chuckle lowly. “don’t think i haven’t noticed. you always get like this when he’s not around.”
“like what?” she asks defensively. his words are outrageous to her that she leans back a little.
“you get so... antsy. you do anything to preoccupy yourself and when that doesn’t work, you just pout and look around like a lost puppy.”
“i do not-“ she denies before getting interrupted.
“oh, you so do. because whether you realize it or not, xavier excites you. he makes things interesting. he may piss you off, but you hang onto his every word just the same. i used to wonder why you’d never shut up about him, but i get it now. i’m glad you have someone that makes our reality... not so bleak.” he nods to himself, content with the way he voiced his thoughts.
“you are so far off. you’re drunk, probably. i don’t know if ghosts can get drunk, but being hammered is the only way to explain your lunacy.” she scoffs, receding her stare and forcing her eyes on the ground.
if she were alive, this is when her heart would be sputtering inside her chest. her lungs would contract harshly and breathing wouldn’t be such a simple task. but she still felt the weight of it, the strain of everything she was feeling. she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, but it was consuming every fragment of her fractured soul. she just understood that chet was wrong. he had to be.
“it’s like that for him, too, you know? hell, maybe even more.”
this persuades her to turn her head back in her friend’s direction, unwillingly invested now. there’s this newfound vulnerability in her eyes, and you wouldn’t even think for a moment that they were ever filled with hatred. “what?”
“he lives to tick you off — metaphorically speaking, of course. at first, it was the only way you’d pay attention to him, so that’s why he did it. but we all see that look xavier gets when he’s arguing with you now. it’s that same excitement you have. you both get so invested that it seems like nothing else matters to either of you, and maybe it doesn’t. maybe there’s a reason for that.” chet concludes, gazing at her stunned features.
there’s no witty rebuttal or unkind jab that comes to mind. the only thing running through her head is xavier, which, as it turns out, isn’t something out of the ordinary. it had always been obvious that xavier liked to pick a fight with her, but to accuse her of liking it, too? of spending the moments of time in between anticipating them? it was out of line. or... was it?
she was planning on indulging with xavier tonight. she had spent the day calculating how to get him fuming, and there was no question that those thoughts of him in misery pleased her. she tried to remember if it had always been like that between them. if, without being aware, every move she’s made, everything she’s done, was because of xavier. had she really let her distaste for him consume her that much? to the point where she craved a daily dose of their poisonous exchange?
“i...” she pauses, trying to think of the right words — any words really. “how could i possibly enjoy spending time with someone i hate?”
“there’s a difference between being upset with someone and hating them. and even more so, you’re upset about something that didn’t even happen.” chet laughs lightly, picking up her can that she barely sipped out of and taking a drink.
she tilts her head. “you’re losing me again.”
chet sighs, before giving her a deadpanned glance. “listen, i’m not supposed to tell you this because xavier is my friend and i was sworn to secrecy. but you’re my friend, too. and i think i’m drunk. so, i’m going to tell you what everyone around here already knows: xavier wasn’t the one who killed you.”
“what?” she said a little too loudly than she expected, but the others were too caught up in their own conversations to notice. she swallowed hard, trying to gain the composure she once had.
“he took the blame, but he didn’t do it.”
“why would he do that?”
“i don’t know. to make it easier, i guess.”
“easier?” she echoed, that familiar spark of anger resurfacing again. “how in the hell does lying to me about the identity of my killer make things easier?”
chet’s eyes flicker over her shoulder, lips tucking into a thin line. “why don’t you ask him yourself?”
pivoting her neck, she’s graced with the sight of xavier finally approaching the campfire. he steps out of the shadows, the orange hues of the fire flickering over him. montana greets him casually before trevor squeezes her thigh and she’s back to laughing giddily with her boyfriend. he nods at her briefly in acknowledgement before scanning the group, halting when he sees her. his lip twitches, threatening to break into a grin, when he notices an empty space for him to sit.
still so overwhelmed by her conversation with chet, all she could do was watch him come closer. her lips were parted, her face held an unreadable expression, and she remained motionless when he sat down right next to her, sighing delightedly while he tossed an arm around her shoulders.
“there’s my girl. what’s with the face? not happy to see me?” xavier mused, leaning down closer to her. his eyebrows were raised from the question and his mouth spread into a playful grin, but the most genuine part of his expression were his eyes, desperate for a real answer.
her gaze rakes over him, not even trying to hold onto her rage anymore. she searches for anything different. what she could have overlooked. as if answers might be written over his ageless skin while all those lies rolled off his swift tongue.
xavier notices the lack of fury in her eyes, the passionate hatred replaced by this hollow daze. his teasing smirk drops. he blinks away the facade. until he’s staring at her with a seriousness that penetrates through her conflicted feelings.
he overwhelms her to the point where she shoots up from the log, shaking her head subtly as if to physically rattle herself out of his influence. she just knew she had to get away from him. he had controlled her enough already, altered her way of thinking too much.
“y/n!” he calls after her once she leaves the circle and makes a beeline to the edge of the forest, undoubtedly taking one of the many paths that snakes its way around the camp. he stands up, turning towards chet. “what’s wrong with her?”
“i told her.” chet doesn’t even bother to lie, completely over anything resembling secrecy.
xavier catches on to what he’s saying instantly. “you what?”
“i gave you a chance to do it yourself, and you didn’t. you just kept on having those petty little fights — which everyone here knows is basically just flirting when it comes to you two. so spare me all your bullshit. i got it out there and now it’s your turn to make it right.”
he grumbles under his breath before abandoning his conversation with chet and taking off after her.
with a flashlight that was previously tucked away in his coat pocket, he follows the sound of snapping branches and shuffling leaves. for a ghost, she was easy to detect. he remembered all those times he teased her for her lack of subtly, watching her face became all furrowed brows and pouty lips as a result. he always loved the reaction he got from her; even though most of the time it was from aggravation, it never failed to reel him in.
she felt every word that left his lips, and in return, he felt everything about her. he felt every piercing stare, every provoked push against his chest, and every wisp of tangible tension that was in the air whenever they were too close. being dead, there isn’t a lot of things that make you feel like that - or at all. but that was never a problem for them.
in death, they were more alive than they ever were before.
it doesn’t take long for xavier to catch up with her, seeing the moonlight bounce off of her silky hair and the movement of her body as she continued to jog. he followed her until they were out of the woods and near the lake, watching her from the tree line while she slows down, thinking she was alone. she wraps her arms around herself, shuffling slowly to the end of the dock.
after taking a deep breath, xavier continues towards her quietly. he stops right when his feet hit the dock, the thump of his shoes on the old wooden boards alerting her enough to turn around. her wounded expression deepens further at his presence. she couldn’t believe she was more hurt by him lying to her than she was when she thought he committed that awful deed, but there was no denying it anymore. xavier didn’t end her life, but he ruined it all the same.
“let me explain.” he pleaded, taking a cautious step forward. even in the darkness, she could make out the desperation in his eyes. she almost scoffed at his audacity to display any sort of remorse.
“explain what, xavier?! that all these years i’ve been here it’s all been a big lie? that you decided to swoop in and toy with me when i was at my most vulnerable because there was nothing better for you to do? i accepted my fate. i accepted that i died because i was at the wrong place at the wrong time. but that’s not really true anymore is it? i don’t know what happened to me. apparently everyone else does, but i don’t. do you not see that because of your lack of decency, everything i know has been turned upside down?” she ranted, a different kind of fury rattling her, one fueled by pain.
xavier shook his head, offended by the conclusions she’s jumping to. “i did not toy with you! that is not why-“
“that is all you ever do! and i’m sick of it! all of it. i hate you. i hate you so much, you selfish, inconsiderate liar.” she seethes out, tears prickling at her waterline.
this sets xavier off as well, fuming at all of her interruptions and false allegations. he strides forward, forgetting about giving her space. she tries to step back in response, but she’s halted by the edge of the dock; the last thing she needed right now is to go for a midnight swim.
“you hate me?” xavier growled when he reached her, automatically met by a harsh shove to the chest, but he barely faltered. “you hate me so much? good. that was the plan. i did it all for you!”
she keeps her venomous glare even when he pulls her roughly by the arm, their faces closer than they’ve ever been before. at first, she fights him, trying to wriggle herself out of his hold. but once she settles on the hypnotic intensity within his stare, she becomes motionless.
“please, enlighten me, xavier. please tell me how much you enjoyed deceiving me for my entire afterlife and did so for me.” she murmurs, the remains of hostility still there.
his shoulders slacked, anger dissipating, and he’s ready, after all this time, to say the truth. “you needed someone to hate. someone accessible. not someone who you knew slipped away and had all the time in the world when yours ran out.
“before margret came back, i spent over a decade taking my revenge out in all the wrongs ways. that kind of injustice, that kind of unfairness, can twist you in death. it can make you into a person you don’t recognize. i didn’t want that for you. so, yeah. i lied and made everyone else keep the secret. but i didn’t do it out of cruelty. i did it because, even as strangers, i couldn’t bare to see you go through what i did.”
she took in his soft-spoken words, casting her gaze downward to think. her body slumped and her mind tried to comprehend what exactly he meant. someone who had all the time in the world when she didn’t? did that mean...
her eyes flicker back up to his, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “are saying it was...” she couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“it was your sister.” he nodded, letting his hand fall back to his side. she didn’t bother to move away from him.
“oh.” she whispered.
she remembered the day she died vividly. she recalled being persuaded to the abandoned camp by her sister, who was a fanatic for supposedly haunted places. they weren’t particularly close; her sister had always had a competitive and apathetic personality. she honestly wasn’t surprised by the truth. it made sense. her sister always had the tendency to stab her in the back, and it looks like she did literally as well.
there was probably a time where she would have resented her and the situation and spiraled out of control. but now, standing in front of the person who sacrificed so much and carried a burden he didn’t have to, she knew that wasn’t her anymore. she’s grown into what her existence is, made peace with it.
although, things might have been different if it wasn’t for xavier. he did make her who she was, but it wasn’t for the worst like she previously believed. it was for the better. he made her better.
“i’m sorry if i made things worse for you. that wasn’t my intention. i was gonna tell you sooner, but i thought you’d never talk to me again. and the thought of going on for eternity without you, it’s worse than anything i can possibly imagine.” xavier sighed. his fingers twitch, itching to touch her but fearing repulsion.
she returned back to reality at his declaration, seeing him in a way she’s never have before. the anguish contorting her face faded into this peculiar look, one that made xavier nervous as he awaited her response. he was anxiously scanning every aspect of her expression but missed the fascination in her eyes, the very thing that made her grab his face and pull him down so his lips met hers.
the kiss only lasts a few seconds before she pulls back, surprised herself by the impulsive move. her hands are still pressed against his cheeks, holding him close while he looks at her with bewilderment. their breaths mingle together, and he almost can’t comprehend what she did. that after all the fighting, secrets, and vows of resentment, she kissed him.
she kissed him like they were standing under the porch lights of her childhood home or swaying intimately on the dance floor in a technicolor-lit gymnasium. she kissed him like they were stopped at a red light in the dead of night and like they were stargazing on damp grass with only a thin blanket to protect them. she kissed him like she meant it.
and when he wrapped his fingers around the base of her neck, thumb caressing her cheek, he kissed her the same way.
there’s desperation behind it all, behind every tight grasp, heavy exhale, and swipe of their tongues. they revel in the closeness of their bodies and that buzz that’s igniting every single fragment of their lost souls. it’s everything they never knew they needed and everything they’re never going to let go of. it’s relief. it’s peace.
“i hate you.” she mumbles against his lips, feeling him smile.
“i love you.” he murmurs. the certainty in tone makes her eyes hazily open half-way, finding his blue eyes staring back at her. “i’ve loved you for forever.”
she kisses him again, harder, telling him all he needs to know. his arms encircle her waist. her fingers rake through his hair. they’re so consumed by one another that they don’t hear the shuffling of incoming footsteps.
“well, i’ll be damn!” chet announces after a rowdy wolf-whistle, chuckling.
both of them immediately pull back at the interruption, turning to see their friends huddled together at the other end of the dock. they all cheer and clap enthusiastically, cupping their hands around their mouths. what looks to be a contagious grin is etched onto everyone’s faces.
“oh no. this is not happening,” she says, mostly to herself, but xavier replies to her.
“unfortunately, it is.”
“we were wondering what was taking you so long! guess we know now.” montana laughs, leaning back onto trevor who wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
she groaned, burying her head into xavier’s neck. he breathed out a slight chuckle, running a hand through her hair, before he averted his attention back to their nosy friends.
“hey, perverts! would you go and leave me and my girl alone please? we don’t need an audience.” xavier tells them in what he tries to make a stern voice, but his uncontrollable smile is proof enough that he’s overflowing with happiness.
“alright. come on, let’s get them some privacy. i don’t need to see xavier’s bare ass... again.” chet relents, being the first to retreat and head back to the campfire. the other follow him, waving goodbye and stumbling into the woods.
xavier pecks the top of her head, still tucked away into his shoulder. “they’re gone. you can kiss me again.”
“who says i want to kiss you again?” she rebuttals, lifting her face up to look at him again. his shining eyes light up the dark night.
“me,” he replies, and his mouth is molded to hers once more.
adjacent to the limb-entangled couple, the green bottle still rests, propped up against one of the dock’s pillars. it’s barely visible in the dark, but it’s reflecting the view of the two of them, delivering a memorable message without the need of a folded note.
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