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anhelus · 4 years ago

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plato is a bitch - part (i)

pairing - tsukishima kei x afab! reader

rating - e

warnings - timeskip spoilers (!!!!!), soft dom tsukishima, mean tsukishima, jealousy at its finest ig, cheesy references, idiots in love, cute nicknames, public sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (f. receiving), reader has a vagina, fingering, some clit love, plato bashing (all of my homies hate plato lmao), greek myth references, both of you are emotionally constipated lmaoo, insecure reader, featuring two other characters from the anime idfihf, has an original female character, lots of reassurance, a lot of cuss words are used somehow???? some poetic bullshit in my writing style sorry for the delay

summary -

tsukishima kei is a skeptic. it’s hard for him to believe in anything that is not cold, hard facts.

but you might be the one thing that turns him into a believer all right.

the one where tsukishima has a penchant of getting needy for you….in public of all places.

smh tsukki.

spotify playlist link - here

a/n - this series is a part of the hqhq discord server’s nsfw collab for the month of march, 2021. you can find the works of many talented and amazing writers in here.

p.s. - this is a repost

WORD COUNT - 5.7K

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

“We have a new one, chief”, Miyuki nudges your elbow, bringing your attention back to the conversation at hand.

Professor Kurosawa of Greek Philosophy 101 had been gracious enough to drop a group project out of the blue. An added bonus was the fact that she chose everyone’s partner, only adding to your unneeded anxiety. By the time you could approach your latest project partner, the bell had rung and signalled the end of the class. Between the bustling crowd of your batch mates, you lost sight of the tall man, unable to keep up with his long strides.

Worriedly, you bite your lip till it’s swollen and ponder over your options. You didn’t even get his phone number. How the fuck are you supposed to work with him? This project is worth 30% of your grades. Fuck this up, and you’re doomed.

“Another kid working with us?” you ask, numbly chewing onto your lips as your eyes roam the museum’s cafeteria. Working at The Sendai City Museum has its perks, you have to admit. One of them is probably the fact that the boba tea you’re sipping on is much cheaper for you to afford on work days here.

You pay attention to your companion half-heartedly, still very much hung up on the project you need to get a head start on, if you wanted a decent grade on it.

“Yeah, he’s from the same place as ya”, she replies, happily munching on her own sandwiches and you watch in amusement at how easily the frown on her eyebrows dissipates because of food.

Ah, the joy of little things….

“Oi”, Miyuki calls your attention in the present again, indicating by her worried eyes the arrival of some misfortune your way, “Manager is coming your way”.

Your eyes widen and you can feel your hands sweat, your leg shaking incessantly under the table. You turn around the moment your superior calls your name, only to freeze when your eyes meet his.

It’s him. It’s him! For fuck’s sake, of all the people….

“Tsukishima Kei”, the blonde introduces himself, an awkward arm extended for a handshake.

“Please take care of me, senior”.

It’s hard working with Tsukishima Kei.

Not only do you have to endure his presence in the library in whatever free hours you get from university, but now you have to show him the ropes of working in a city museum.

This is stressful and I’m about to blow off like a pressure cooker any fucking time now, you think as you clean the storage room – full of old antiques and extras. It’s dusty and the napkin tied around your face is not helping your nose from scrunching up whenever you get close enough to sneezing out your lungs.

Your ‘junior’, as Miyuki has playfully dubbed the blond man, is assigned the duty of cleaning out the fake antique extras that are usually put out on display whenever it’s rush hours in the museum – a wise decision, given how the kids that visited the place were prone to always messing with the artefacts that signified the existence of the Date Clan aeons ago in Japan.

The buzzing of your phone in your pants’ pockets give you an apt excuse to stop squatting down and stand up, groaning at how your thighs burn at the ache. Opening up the unread messages, you feel your eyebrow shoot up in visible confusion as you read what Kei has sent you moments ago:

“Why would you say that?” you ask him, turning around to see him putting away some old boxes up on the metal shelves stacked against the cream walls of the room.

‘Damn him and his height. Damn him and his veiny arms that can easily choke me- ‘

Whoa, why in the world did that thought come into your brain? You blame the intrusiveness of your mind. Yeah, that’s all there is.

“What?” he questions you, wiping his palms onto his trousers, “He is a little bitch”.

Out of all the philosophers you could’ve chosen, you went with Plato. And now more than ever, you regret it heavily.

“Care to elaborate?” you feel your jaw ache as you grind your teeth as a way to not snap at your classmate and colleague.

“Well, for one, he was a pretentious asshole”, he lists off from the top of his head, making sure to keep a count of his arguments on his nimble fingers, “Number two, he implied that the only thing we know is that we know nothing”.

“Which is true, given how there’s no absolute fact or truth to compare our progress with”, you quip in, getting defensive over a dead Greek man who wouldn’t give two fucks about women or any minority for that matter.

You’re carrying most of the load of this project, on top of working multiple shifts at the museum and freelancing for meagre amounts of cash and experience. Tsukishima, while helpful, isn’t present to assist you whenever you need him, due to his volleyball practice as well. And you know it’s awfully selfish of you to pick a fight with him over a project that’s supposed to bring you closer (at least according to Professor Kurosawa) as classmates. But you’re tired and sick worried out of your mind about, well, everything.

Rent, exams, deadlines – every single chore in your life has you wearied down to the bone and you know not when it will be all too much for you to handle. So the fact that a guy your age is doing just as much as you, and not feeling the same insecurities as you?

It makes you envy him.

‘How can you be so laidback about everything?’, you curse him out for even entering your life.

“But if that was true, then we wouldn’t have science or maths. We wouldn’t have electronics, phones or even the broom you’re cleaning the floor with”, he articulates without breaking a sweat, and you wish you had it in you to give him a piece of his own mind.

But today is not your day, and you’d prefer to just crash into your cosy bed and sleep as if the world is ending and you cannot give two fucks about it.

“That means that we are knowledgeable to a certain extent and Plato might’ve idealised Aristotle due to some homoerotic subtext historians forgot to acknowledge”.

On any normal day, that would’ve made you laugh. Maybe you’d have rolled your eyes and added your own input. But you’re tired and cannot imagine spending another moment inside this stuffy room, feeling dirty and exhausted beyond belief.

You turn around, trying to conceal your tears of frustration that cannot help but fall down your face and you speak out after several beats of moments pass you by, “Tsukishima, I’m tired. Can we not do this right now?”

You don’t know that he can see your shoulders shake with your silent sobs. You don’t know when he silently decides to make his way towards you. So it surprises you when you feel his arms wrap around your waist and you let him rock your body gently back and forth, feeling yourself melt into him and letting go of your inhibitions as he softly kisses your neck.

“Tsukishima- “, you speak, caught off guard by this gentle gesture of his.

“I should’ve known today was not it for you. You do a lot and sometimes I take things too far. Remind me- “, you feel his breath shudder against your back as he tries to continue:

“Remind me that just because I can do things with you; things that others may not be too fond of, it doesn’t mean that I cannot take it too far. Tell me to back off and I will”.

You turn around to face him and whisper, “What if I don’t want you to back off?”

—–

And damn, Tsukishima Kei must’ve thought in that moment as you looked up at him with such pretty eyes, so full of hope and fear, How am I to resist someone so sweet?

And so he dives right into those honeyed lips of yours, savouring you and consuming you whole as he locks lips with you. He feels your hands slowly run through his hair gently and he knows now, that he couldn’t have had anything better than this.

Reasons of existence be damned; you are the reason he feels alive right now.

It’s been an entire week since you’ve last talked to him.

It’s not as if you don’t see him anymore. You still meet him at the university library at least thrice a week and find him sitting further away in the very back of the spacious room, two steaming Styrofoam cups filled with coffee that could burn your tongue unless you blow on it.

You still meet him after his practice, ready to take on the cleaning duties on weekdays. You still see him when he reluctantly volunteers his weekends away at the museum, to guide the horde of school children visiting for a field trip as he lists off everything he knows about the Date clan from the top of his head with such poise and grace- it makes you wonder what did he see in you that made him kiss you that one strange evening.

It’s just…you haven’t talked to him about it. Not one mention of what went down that day in the storage room. Almost as if…. nothing’s changed.

And that has you worried. So worried that it makes it hard to breathe whenever you look at Kei’s furrowed brow as he studies the various books and articles you suggested him for the project. It makes you want to rub away the crease on his head with your fingers. Whenever the sunlight of the setting sun hits his face as he escorts you from his volleyball gym towards the museum, it makes him look ethereal and you wonder if maybe he is what Apollo must’ve looked like – sublime and so deep in thought he is in those moments, you wonder if he can even sense your gaze on him.

If he can tell that you want him to kiss you again and let you run your fingers through his soft hair again. Taste the peppermint candy he keeps munching on during his break hours on his lips as you pull him closer still, until both of you are united as one in each other’s arms again.

And so you wait for him one day, arriving earlier than your partner with two cups of steaming coffee you have bought instead when he texted you that he would be late. Tapping away your pen against the oak wood table, you chew away at the dead skin of your lips as you anxiously wait for him to come. Noises from a few feet away grab your attention and you are surprised to see Kei with a girl you have never seen before.

She’s talking away softly in a saccharine voice and he’s smiling. He’s actually smiling.

And for a moment you feel your worries melt away as your shoulders sag in relief at the sight of Tsukishima so carefree and open, only for envy to consume your thoughts about it.

Sure, Kei has been open with you – but not here. Not in public.

You wonder how much you really know him. And the answer does not please you.

You watch as she bids him goodbye at the library entrance, leaving the man searching for you. You’re sitting where he usually sits, all for the sake of the man finding you easily amongst the crowd – and yet, you feel invisible.

Unseen.

Feeling as if you cannot handle your thoughts any longer, you get up and hear the chair scrape against the marble floor as you make a beeline towards the deeper sections of the library, getting lost between the tall bookshelves that tower over you, akin to the shadows your insecurities always cast over you.

—–

Tsukishima waves you down, walking towards you but slows down in confusion as you up and leave without a second look towards the Statistics and Analysis section of the library. Finally putting his bag onto the seat beside you, he wonders if you had ever mentioned taking a course in the said subject…only to come up empty.

Yachi had been kind enough to meet him at the university and drop off some cookies she had baked for everyone, having promised to do the aforementioned activity when they all had a reunion for the 1st years of the Karasuno volleyball team. It had been fun, egging Kageyama and Hinata for a match, all so that they can compare how far they’ve come now. Seeing his friend Yamaguchi was refreshing, to say the least. And when they have egged him to spill the beans about his life, he may or may not have let it slip that he likes someone.

You. You’re that someone.

And even though Tsukishima has a hard time expressing himself, he thought he has shown you how much he cares about you in his own way. But when he sees you walking back and forth in the Archaeology section (for you have walked in pretty deep when you up and left), and when you literally freeze at the sight of him and falter, cowering in on yourself – he’s proven wrong. Yet again.

He hadn’t done jack shit to show you he cares.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Tsukishima, ha. Wasn’t expecting to see you here so early”, you say as you wipe away your eyes. (Had you been crying?)

“Let’s leave, okay? We have a lot to do- “

He pins you against the shelf, careful not to hurt you. You look at him with those pretty, doe eyes of yours and he relaxes a little. It’s just you and him here.

“Let’s talk first, yeah?” Kei wets his lips, gulping down his doubts as he looks at you with such fierceness you’re certain it would’ve scorched you on the spot.

You nod meekly, looking up at him as he towers over you.

“Why are you crying? Did someone do something?” he asks, hoping to narrow down the reason why you may not be feeling your best at the moment.

You shake your head.

“Was it me? Is it something I did?”

You reply, “It’s you. And it’s something you did not do”.

Fuck.

“Okay, what did I not do?” he asks you, and you let go of all inhibitions, letting your feelings take over you instead.

“What you did not do is talk about when we kissed. What you did do is act as if things haven’t changed, because guess what? Things do change when you kiss someone who’s your project partner, genius!”

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “What you did do, however, is act as if everything is so easy for you – studies, the museum, the volleyball when I even struggle to stay afloat. And then without talking it out, you show up thirty minutes late and with a girl I have never seen before in my life!”

Your throat hurts from talking so much, but you applaud yourself mentally for neither losing your cool nor being too loud.

“Do you know how I felt, Kei? What if she’s your girlfriend? What if I’m a home wrecker?” you bemoan into your palms, feeling exhausted and drained after the rant you have went on earlier.

Kei chuckles. That motherfucker fucking laughs at your misery. You’re so going to kill him now-

And then he kisses your forehead, bringing you into his arms once again and holding you tight against him. He begins, “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to worry you. Yachi is just my old schoolmate and yes, we need to talk some more about it. I didn’t mean to worry my beloved senior so much”.

“You mean a lot to me, I swear”, he looks into you, reluctant to break eye contact.

“Really?” you ask in a small voice, timid and tired from the day’s activities already.

“Yeah, you do. That’s why I’m still reading Plato. Ow!”

You playfully punch his arm, your face breaking out into a soft grin that makes Kei’s heart beat just a tad bit faster.

“Want me to prove it to you?” he asks you and you don’t hesitate to take him up on that offer, letting him guide you through the library to make good on his promise.

—-

“Kei, what if someone sees us?” you whine, watching as the man below you lifts you by your thighs with ease, flipping your skirt all the way up to your torso.

Gently sliding your panties to the side, he says, “Who cares?”

“I care, you dummy! Oh, oh! Kei, fuck please!”

You’re forced to silence yourself by covering your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans as you feel him gently kiss your swollen clit, using his fingers to spread your pussy open for him. You can feel the hair at the back of your neck rise up as you gasp at the way his fingers tease you, stroking you softly before entering inside, making you burn at the sudden stretch.

The sound of your pleas are silenced by you hand and Tsukishima (that sly little asshole) takes advantage of your situation – torturing you by hitting all of your weak points. You slump against the shelf behind you, stacked with books of various subjects.

You’d have known which section of the library it was, had you checked and not just blindly followed your shrewd classmate along. His fingers fiddling with your g-spot is making it harder for you to think, curling inside you just right and making your eyes roll back in your head as a result.

Damn him and his hands.

‘Why do I trust him so much?’, you think and if it wasn’t for him, you’re certain your shaky legs would’ve given out long ago.

“I’d have asked you to beg for me, but we don’t want to be caught, do we now?” he asks, as he nuzzles his face deeper and his voice makes everything in you thrum in need. God, it’s pathetic how you’d do anything for him to touch you more.

He looks up at you

Your fingers run wildly through his hair, harshly pulling him closer as he finally (finally!) touches you where you need it the most and you feel your eyes water with tears of pleasure as waves of pleasure shoot through your body in the form of your much-awaited orgasm.

Your arms slack and fall beside you as you heave heavily, greedily inhaling as you slowly come down from your high. Tsukishima lets you down gently as he gets back up, licking his fingers and tasting you on them. You’re unable to look him in the eyes because of it.

“Come back to earth, sweetheart”, he taps your cheek gently, pulling you out of the pleasurable haze you’ve easily lost yourself in.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly, feeling the dopamine work its effects on you.

“We need to work, don’t we? Come along now, I wanna finish up soon with you”.

And if Kei really did drag you back outside with your hand in his, you don’t comment on it – scared that you’ll ruin this moment with him.

“I guess Plato wasn’t wrong about one thing”, Tsukishima speaks, breaking the ambient silence you have been working under for about an hour now.

“Oh? What thing is it, then? What made you concede, o’ great Tsukishima Kei?” you tease him, waiting for his response.

“Soulmates”, he answers, stirring his black coffee with a steel spoon gently.

“Care to elaborate?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“Maybe. Depends on whether you come”.

“Come where?” you ask, genuinely curious about his sudden proposal.

“Come to the match tomorrow”, he mutters out suddenly, intensely gazing at you for a response.

You both have decided to visit the café a few blocks away from the campus so that you can discuss and finalize the details of your project before you submit it. Surprisingly, you had been able to finish up your project after that little ‘escapade’ in the library – much earlier than anticipated.

You splutter out, “I, um-“

“Come see me play”, he almost looks as if he’s excited about it. Is he?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course”, he scratches the crown of his head awkwardly, and oh god, you couldn’t have been more whipped for him than in that moment.

“I just want you to see this part of me too. Want to show you how serious I can be about all that I love. Want to show you I can be serious about you as well, babe”.

“You cringed a little at ‘babe’, didn’t you? Be honest”, you giggle as he grimaces and accepts it, nodding stiffly in response.

“But that’s the tamer and more socially acceptable nicknames”, you reply, happily sipping on the iced coffee Kei reluctantly bought you (He’s apprehensive about letting you consume caffeine in high amounts, to which you can only scoff indignantly in response.)

“Would you prefer I call you sweetheart, senior?” he smirks, and damn your stomach for doing a flip at the term of endearment.

But you recovered quickly by responding, “Hm, maybe if you actually take me out on a date?”

God must’ve been on another realm when he created the man named Tsukishima Kei, because you have never met a person so stubborn and persistent as him. Given how laidback he seems at times; it’s surprising how he can be hung up on one thing for such a long time.

“Attend my match and I’ll think about it”.

You could only roll your eyes at that.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You’re so screwed. So utterly fucked.

Tsukishima had been gracious enough to inform you about the location of his upcoming match against the rival team. Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, the place he’s supposed to have a match against EJP Raijin.

The fact that the gymnasium is four hours away did not deter you. It only made you more determined to visit your project partner even more.

‘He divided his time between work, uni and volleyball. The least I can do is watch him once’, you think as you swipe your metro card and finally arrive at your destination.

Welcome to Tokyo.

Tsukishima now owes you a proper trip to this city, but first you need to locate where the gymnasium was.

Better hurry up, then.

——-

Unfortunately, traveling to a new place isn’t as picturesque or simple as movies make it out to be. In the bustling streets of Tokyo, it is easy for you to get lost and unable to trace down the original point you have departed from.

You’re lucky you soon found an elderly lady who was nice enough to guide you to a taxi station and you hailed a cab from there onwards.

The fact that you’re cold due to the sudden downpour of rain when the weather man had been certain about a clear sky today did not make it any better for you.

And as you shivered in the backseat of the car, you cannot stop your leg from tapping away on the bottom in anxiety and dreadful despair whenever you take another look at your watch, signifying another minute closer to you missing Kei’s match.

Please let me be on time. I cannot miss this. Not when it’s him.

—-

He’s looking for you everywhere. It’s halftime and he couldn’t spot you because he’s been too nervous to seek you around the bustling crowd earlier. But now he’s not pressured by the need to defend his side of the court and so his eyes scan and loiter throughout the gym, but he’s unable to find you anywhere in the stands.

Where the fuck are you? You’re supposed to be here. By his side.

And he’s supposed to officially ask you out after he wins the match.

But you’re missing, and he wonders if this is a sign he should’ve paid attention to a long time ago.

Maybe he’s been too optimistic about everything.

He’s snapped out of his spiralling thoughts when the crowd cheers all of a sudden and he turns around to see Suna Rintarou making his way through the crowds and the yellowing bleachers, with an arm around your shoulders.

What the actual fuck?

He’s unable to take his eyes off of the pair of you as he watches the middle blocker help you settle down on the seats of front row as he bids you adieu and makes his way over to his team.

Many questions run through his head as the buzzer indicates the end of their break and he gets back into position.

There’s a lot to unpack there regarding you, but first he has to win this game.

For himself.

EJP Raijin loses the match by a small margin.

It’s still amazing to see this happen with your own eyes though.

Even with your limited knowledge about the sport, you’d noticed yourself being on the very edge of your seat as you observed each move, each block, each rally with keen eyes, absorbing everything the match had to offer to you as a viewer.

When Sendai Frogs finally won, you cheered as loudly as you possibly could and ended up attracting the attention of nearby patrons. You didn’t care though.

All you cared about is the fact that he won. His team won. And you got to watch it.

You couldn’t have been prouder about it.

But as you wait for him to arrive near the exit gates, he never comes. Visitors, players and even management have left you behind, opting to leave the gym empty save for you and a few of Kei’s teammates – who are well on their way of leaving the place as well.

You’re lucky enough to nab one of them and after further bugging, he’s kind enough to reveal that Tsukishima’s still in the locker room and he might take a shower soon.

Thanking him, you hurriedly make your way to the lockers assigned to their team for the day. Sighing in relief, you finally make your way towards the mop of blond hair and call out his name, only to stop short when he fails to respond or acknowledge you.

“Kei?” you call out again, feeling yourself shrink in on yourself.

“What?” he scoffs out, turning to face you and you notice he’s yet to freshen up.

“Done getting cosy with Raijin’s blocker? Is that why you’re back here with me? Did he leave you hanging how you left me?”

Okay. Pissed is an understatement.

This man is furious at you.

—-

“I was late, but I didn’t miss your game, Tsukishima!” you yell out, desperate to stop the man in his stride out of the locker room.

“I saw you play. I saw you focused, serious and so devoted today! I saw you and your passion towards volleyball!”

“And?” the man asks, his narrowed eyes ready to judge you for whatever you’re about to offer him as a response.

“And? What else do you want me to say?”

“Explain why I saw you enter with Suna Rintarou of all people? After half-time no less?” his eyes narrowed as they pierced through you, dissecting your very being for sensing any foul play or tricks you might have up your sleeves.

“I-“

“You know what? Save it. I’d rather not hear your half-assed excuse”, he snaps back, brown eyes glowing with anger at you.

Indignant at his casual dismissal of you, you grab him by the collar so that he’s at your height and finally speak through gritted teeth:

“Listen here, you little shit. I did not come from Sendai all the way here by wasting four hours of my life, got lost in Tokyo all on my own and had to take Suna-san’s help so that I could actually watch you play, only for you to act like an insecure little bitch about it. Especially not when you’re not even dating me. Go it?”

He gulps audibly, feeling the sweat from the match earlier cool down on his skin. Despite the height difference, he can feel the aura you’re emanating and damn, he should not be feeling this way when you’re seconds away from skinning him alive.

“Did anyone tell you how hot you are when you’re angry?” he quips, and he watches as you implode in on yourself and splutter for a coherent comeback.

“You’re unbelievable, Tsukishima. I’m done”, with that said, you walk away only to be pulled back by the man as he kisses you fervently.

It’s clumsy and your teeth are knocking together with his, but you feel your anger dissipate at his actions. Pushing him away so your burning lungs can catch a break, you fan yourself with eyes gazing the floor (for you’re scared they might give away how you feel about him) and retort, “God, Tsukishima. Why are you acting like a heathen? Don’t you know it’s bad manners to kiss someone without wooing them first?”

When your eyes meet his again, his eyes are alight with need and a need so animalistic that it scares you. Stumbling a few steps back, you watch as Kei eyes you like a prey worth the long chase. And just as you feel like you may need to leave before he devours you whole, your back crashes against the wall.

The distance between you and him is covered swiftly, thanks to his impatient stride and greedy soul. You’re forced to look up at him when he tilts your chin so he can take a long hard look at you and your flushed state. You’re not doing okay, and it’s because of one sarcastic man named Tsukishima Kei.

“Nowhere to run off to, senior?” he eggs you on with the rhetorical question, and your mouth dries up as you attempt to muster up a response that shuts his smug self up good. Before you can, you hear footsteps approaching and panic, looking at your partner for an apt idea.

He scoffs, pulling you by your hand as he guides you deeper inside and closes the door behind him. The cool tiles and the showerhead above gives away the fact that you’re in the showers…. with a man, no less. Well, that’s one way to do it.

“Why drag me in here, Kei?” you whisper harshly, finding it hard to focus when his hands start trailing down. You gasp as his fingers rub you under your skirt (which you have worn in an indescribable high where you felt brave enough to wear something adorable and yet revealing) and he’s taking advantage of the fact very well.

“Why? I want to have my fun with you too, y’know? Or are you wishing it was someone else?” he asks, his lips soon finding themselves kissing your neck, teeth dragging harshly at your weak spots and marking you as his for the moment.

“F-fuck, Kei. Listen-“ you whimper as he marks your skin jagged with his canines and feel the hair at the back of your neck rise up when you hear footsteps approach and stop short right in front of the cubicle you’re trapped in.

“Someone in here?” an unfamiliar voice calls out, and it takes everything in you to not moan out loud when Tsukishima slides your panties to the side and starts playing with your clit gently.

“Uh, it’s me. Tsukishima”, he responds but his eyes are pinning you down and watching each and every expression you make at his ministrations.

“How long will you take? Coach was thinking about treating us out for the win”, his teammate responds jovially, totally unaware of what’s going on at the other side of the door.

“Uh…”, he pretends to think hard, only to take this time as an opportunity to shove two of his fingers inside your soft walls, groaning at the way you clench tightly around them.

“You okay, Kei?” he asks, and you almost correct him because Kei isn’t fond of many people using his first name. The only time people can use it is when they’re either his parents, or they’re someone who’s taking his long fingers in them like a champ.

“I think I’m a little under the weather, senpai. Mind if I leave early?” he asks, curling his fingers just right as he watches you twitch under his touch.

“Sure thing. Just clean up a bit and leave soon, yeah? The security might make a round before closing up”, the other man responds, and you let out a sigh of relief as you hear his footsteps retreat.

“Focus on me, pretty one”, he coos, tapping your cheek gently to get your attention.

“Not enough”, you try to ride his fingers but the position isn’t advantageous to your attempt and Kei almost smiles at the way you pout, whining as he slows down and your orgasm fades away to nothing.

“I know”, he responds as he undresses himself, removing his shirt in seconds.

You’re left gaping at how lithe and pretty he is – soft, pale and unblemished skin is begging for you to leave your mark on it. You can already imagine how pretty he’ll look with thin angry nail marks down his back and his chest covered in red and possessive hickeys.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, not expecting to see such a sight today of all days. Maybe you should’ve read the astrology column in the newspaper today before you left for Tokyo.

“Undressing, duh”, he speaks as if it’s obvious.

Which it is.

“I can see that but why?”

“Well, you want to cum, don’t you?” he asks, raising his eyebrow at you.

You respond, oddly timid for somehow who’s gone almost all the way with the man standing in front of you.

“Yeah….but-“

“Then, you better cum on my cock, baby”, he whispers, kissing your forehead gently before asking:

“So, can you take off your clothes or shall I do the honors? We need to clean up and leave before security finds us in a compromising position, y’know.”

And you’ll be damned before you let your beloved junior one up you.

And so, you move forward as you undress yourself slowly and wait for him to let you make the next move.

NOTE - DO NOT CROSS-POST OR RECOMMEND MY WORKS TO ANYONE WHO’S UNDER THE AGE OF 18 AND IS NOT INTO EROTICA. DO NOT USE MY FICS FOR COMMERCIAL USE W/O MY PERMISSION.

#tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #hqhq server collab #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #smut tw #sex at workplace tw #nsfr tw #☘️.kore #☘️.mini series #☘️.tsukishima

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solomonish · 4 years ago

Text

Love is Just a Feeling I Do Not Need (Lucifer x Reader)

Even if this dream isn’t yours, just keep dreaming it.

based off of this song.

ao3 link: here!

Ah, don't you know all this shit is annoying me It's not my act and it's driving me crazy That gaze you're giving me, that voice and that face I see Ah, don't you know? I hate them so-o-o

Though Lucifer was normally a fan of reliability and structure, this was a routine he wouldn’t mind going on without.

Every Thursday, sometime between the hours of 5 and 6 o’clock, you and Mammon would find yourselves shuffling nervously in front of his desk, shoulders hunched in anticipation for the verbal lashing you were about to receive. Most often than not, he’d direct his frustration towards Mammon, saving the gentler reprimands for you. It isn’t that he intended to go easy on you - if anything, he truly thought you could do with a little more firm punishment - but you normally got roped into Mammon’s schemes in the middle of trying to stop them. It was a noble, yet foolish, effort, and forcing yourself through the same vicious cycle seemed punishment enough for your naivety.

If ever there was a chance at levelling with you, Lucifer would hope you’d agree that receiving such a punishment was him was a blessing in disguise. He never lacked in the discipline department, but compared to the types of demons out there that weren’t bound by honor or loyalty and would love to take a bite out of you, his lectures were hardly anything to complain about. Though you’d furrow your brows or glower at him every now and then, it was your sweetness that got you into your messes and it was what allowed those transgressions to pass. He could tell that, as burdensome as you clearly thought he was in these moments, you never intended to interrupt his work or irk him beyond repair.

However, even the sweetest of fruits could rot if left on the table for long enough, and you were no different.

Lucifer had hoped that you might be a good influence on Mammon, or at least teach him a little bit of responsibility, but it seemed the influencing was happening the other way around. You got braver with your challenging looks and quips of defiance, only pushing the boundaries further the longer you were in the devildom. Perhaps, in his effort to allow you to ruminate on your actions yourself, he had spoiled you, for you were certainly acting far out of the bounds of what was appropriate for your situation. Not only did you seem to find your consistent troublemaking a persistent problem that needed fixing, but you also thought that, in a house filled with some of the most powerful demons in the realm, you found it a wise decision to directly challenge him, the oldest, the one most capable of hurting you. Lucifer wasn’t known for his tendency to hold back his anger or his punishments, and exchange students didn’t exactly have the privilege of diplomatic immunity.

Even worse, when he told you as much, all you had to say for yourself was, "You know, you don't have to put on this authoritative act for every little thing just to earn my respect."

Even worse for you, you had a lopsided smile that you couldn't repress, one full of arrogance and challenging him directly. He clenched tighter onto his desk, not quite sending spindling fractures through the wood but hearing it creak in protest all the same. Almost immediately, that cocky grin slipped off your face and you murmured an apology, lowering your head in submission in the hopes he would only continue his lecture and not add on to the punishment.

If the work slotted into his day had been any less, he would have come up with some sort of punishment for you. Your sudden cowardice was not enough to force his pride to keel. But his workload was already too immense to be dealing with a human’s daring - stupid - display of defiance, so he waved you off shortly after and stewed over his reports.

Lucifer didn’t miss the way you practically scurried out of his office, nor could he block out the harsh whispers outside his door as Mammon fussed over you. For a brief moment, he figured that he should call you back, give you a fitting punishment for your continued antics and save the future version of himself from these headaches. However, he knew that it’d only breed harsher animosity within you, and you would only work harder to annoy him. At the mere thought, his headache returned, and he focused on the paper on the desk in his attempt to block out the pain.

Whether it was due to your tendency to attract danger or his own tendency to micromanage once given a job (and dedicated to his task to assist in the exchange program he was), Lucifer found himself keeping an eye on you whenever he could. Oftentimes, he was out of your range, working in his office or assisting Diavolo wherever he may be in the expansive school. Even during class, when he wasn’t pulled aside to help Diavolo, he was in some of the most advanced classes in the school, all far above your level as a human thrown into an unfamiliar realm. That was one of the reasons he assigned you as Mammon’s responsibility - even though he did know, deep down, that his brother would rise to the occasion, he was also the only brother in a few of the lower level classes you had. That was a thought he didn’t dare linger on for too long, lest he feel another flare of anger build up.

Still, there were moments when he passed you in the hall, or beckoned you to follow him into his office to smooth over some administrative details regarding your exchange student status in the Devildom. Each time you turned your back, he found himself watching you leave, as if his gaze alone was enough to send you safely on your own. Nobody caught him staring - and if they did, they had the wisdom to pretend they didn’t. Yet you were human in every aspect of the word, tactless, weak and unwise, and when you caught his gaze - which he hated to admit had happened, and hated even more to count exactly how many times it happened - you smiled at him kindly. Those times, you weren’t planning anything or hoping to annoy him. You were merely treating him like a friend, giving him a silent greeting when you knew he wouldn’t make his way over to you to meet you properly.

Treating him like a friend...treating him with as much familiarity as you did his brothers? The thought insulted him. If you weren’t afraid of him, he would have to amend that quickly. Until he could see the respect in your gaze, and until he could be certain you feared him how he wanted you to, he loathed that stupid grin on your face as much it made his stomach churn.

It isn't fate or a miracle that brought us here Expecting nothing, it all remains so unclear Since I don't mind if you aren't really the best I'm sure that we'll be fine Come and hold me tight

Weeks and months did nothing to quell your troublesome nature. If anything, the more familiar you found yourself with your surroundings, the more you tried to bend the rules until they broke. Lucifer was aware of all of your antics - at least, he certainly hoped there weren’t any he was missing, because then he’d wonder if your feeble human body could handle all of that activity. Still, Lucifer was a man who knew how to pick his battles, no matter what his behavior with his brothers may say. More often than not, he warned against the stupid ideas he could see brewing in your mind, figuring that if there was no stopping you he could at least instill you with the proper sense of caution.

If he sat too long on the thought of how much trouble you really did cause, the only thought in his mind screamed the audacity! What kind of entitlement did you think you had? How could one human decide this realm was theirs to meddle with?

It was infuriating how much you managed to get wrapped up in, despite your inexperience. Perhaps it was that inexperience that had you scrambling about the Devildom like a new, untrained puppy that insisted on chewing everybody’s shoes? (This is why Lucifer never allowed pets, he realized. If his brothers couldn’t control a creature they could communicate with, how could they control an animal?) Maybe you assumed that being under the care of the seven demon lords meant you had some sort of immunity to the consequences of your antics. But being under their care did not mean they cared for you, and it was time that you realized just how lucky it was that you managed to survive this long.

Brash as it may sound, you weren’t anything special. At best, you were extraordinarily lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you enjoyed the exchange program); one human chosen out of billions. You had no standing here, not one of chosen status, no power or understanding of the magic that ruled the world around them.

It did work in your favor, if only a little bit. At least this way, Lucifer had no expectations of you coming in, so your disruptive behavior was no more disappointing than was to be expected. He had no image of you in his mind, nothing for you to contradict. It’s not as if you really cared what he thought, but it sure saved him the bother of reconciling his mental image with the unfortunate reality you were. Of course, that also meant that he didn’t always know what kind of trouble you were about to stir up, just that you would definitely stir up some trouble.

It isn’t until he hears a loud crash and your voice among the startled yelps that he realizes how much time he took from his reports to reflect on you.

Or rather….on your behavior.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't handle it so I'll go on tirelessly Close your eyes and feel me breathe down your neck Even if this dream isn't yours, just keep dreaming it

Yes, this was the best solution.

He noticed the way your shoulder tensed when you heard his footsteps. Have you learned the sound of his footsteps already? How cute.

You were sitting at a table in the library with Satan standing not too far away. Lucifer remembered Mammon begging someone to be your escort home so he could take care of some business with the witches, and after some arguing and a firm interruption by yours truly, Satan was tasked with bringing you home safely. Of course, he had to stop in the school library first - some human wasn’t going to force him to change his plans. You had the wisdom to take out an assignment to work on, clearly one of the easier ones that wouldn’t be too disturbed if you stopped in the middle when Satan was prepared to leave.

Lucifer didn’t plan on stopping in the library, but Diavolo was stuck in a separate meeting and he happened to be walking by, so why shouldn’t he check on the human in his charge?

He approached you with quiet, even steps, enjoying the way you went stiff as soon as he was near enough to start speaking to you. You looked to be expecting that, though, and he just couldn’t have that. No, instead he stepped directly behind your chair, placing one hand on the back of it so his gloved knuckles barely brushed against your shoulder. Bending at the waist, he leaned down so his chin almost touched your other shoulder, his breath ghosting your ear as he peered down at the paper in front of you.

“I see you’re taking your duties here in the Devildom seriously for once,” He started, his voice almost a deep purr. “Diavolo will be pleased to hear this report.”

You were fighting a shiver at the sound of his voice alone. He knew that you knew that he could feel the way you held back your shiver. That probably pleased him more than if you had actually done it.

“U-uh, yeah,” You stammered, fiddling with your pencil. “I’m just...trying to get some work done.”

He hummed, looking over your answers and taking his sweet time doing so. The longer he remained leaning by your side, the more he could hear your breath shallowing. Even if he was in charge of your safety, that didn’t mean he couldn’t still have a little bit of fun with the human that had a penchant for having too much fun with him.

Before you could swat him away, he quickly straightened himself out and patted your shoulder. Satan had returned by that point, just rounding the corner of a bookshelf and narrowing his eyes the moment he saw Lucifer. A second later, his eyes drifted down to you and he furrowed his eyebrows - clearly, Lucifer had affected you much more than he could see, and the thought made him preen himself on the inside.

“I trust you’ll keep up the good work. Keep an eye on them, Satan.”

His cold demeanor was back, and neither of you had anything to say about it. How joyful things turned out to be.

Much to your chagrin, Lucifer was a fast learner, and he took to flustering you just enough to keep you sedated when he felt you’d cause trouble. At first, all it took was a little invasion of your personal space, a targeted breath or a pat on the shoulder, all things you could easily brush off as just him trying to communicate a point the way humans do. After a while, you built up a feeble tolerance that he could send toppling down again by switching those pats to gentle strokes. He might be getting friendly with you, but you never made any attempt to push him away.

He didn’t have any ulterior motives. He could justify himself by saying this was the only way to keep you under control. Lucifer may not have been the avatar of lust, but he was never one to be shown up by his brothers. Seduction was an art form he had mastered long ago, and even if he wasn’t purposely intending to bed you, he was a maestro at using his skills to affect you. Besides, the faces you made and the way you flustered yourself when he was even in the same room as you was enough to encourage him to keep going.

It didn’t matter that, after a while, Mammon had convinced you to get back into his schemes. It didn’t matter that when Lucifer asked you sly questions about finishing your work, you had some response about needing to have time to make his life even harder.

There was no harm in trying to keep you charmed, was there? Not when you seemed to be enjoying it so.

It's no use to just regret all night long So instead of mourning why don't you take me along? Just admit that I'm the best, can't you see? Love me till I hurt oh baby, come dance the night away with me

This was a song and dance the two of you learned the steps to quickly, one that went on for much longer than it had any right to. This was a fact you realized when it, quite literally, culminated in a dance.

Lucifer considered himself a master of tact, figuring that he could settle your tomfoolery once and for all with a rather serious talking to. Maybe, since this time you conversation would happen in public with the prince as a witness, you might listen and take some of his words to heart. Or, in the worst case scenario, at least he could be sure to keep your attention for long enough to get a meaningful message across.

Getting you alone was easy enough. Though you were surrounded by some of his brothers, it seemed Mammon was the only other one interested in separating you from the group and was stumbling over himself in his efforts to make it happen. Besides, even with the way you disregarded every warning he gave you, at least you learned that Lucifer only ever asks as a formality. So, he found himself leading you by the hand to the middle of the floor, placing a hand on your waist as casually as one can and mimicking the way the others moved around you.

“What is it you’re plotting with Asmo?” In order to keep the conversation between the two of you, he leaned down slightly to mutter in your ear - not close enough to raise any suspicions, but close enough that you could certainly feel just how much he had you in his grasp. Moments ago, he had already made you aware of his intentions, so the shocked expression on your face really had no right to be there. Still, he couldn’t say he didn’t find a sort of pleasure in the way he could practically hear your blood rush through your veins as you tried to keep up your facade of control. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were as easy to see through as you were frustrating.

“Let me make one thing clear,” He practically hissed, enjoying the way you shivered. “I respect my brothers’ freedom to do as they wish. However, if I ever sense that you’ve become a threat to Diavolo or us, then I will show you absolutely no mercy. Understood?”

Lucifer made sure to snake his arm around your back, holding you against him and gripping your hand with as much strength as he could without truly hurting you. He had effectively caged you in, making sure that you knew there was no escape from the way he knew things needed to be done. And you really needed to stop poking your nose into their business.

“I-I want to be good friends with all of you, Lucifer,” You answered, giving a pathetic tug to the hand in his grasp. Without responding, Lucifer narrowed his eyes at you and relaxed his grip slightly. Somehow, you proved yourself to be a bigger fool than he originally thought.

“Well, that is not what I want.”

He watched your face fall at that, and there was the strangest coil in his stomach at that reaction. What, had you genuinely thought you could just waltz into the Devildom and call the Demon Lords your pals? What would you even have to gain from that?

Before he could admonish you further, Solomon appeared from the crowd, offering you a smile that was so casual it could only be practiced. For just a moment, his eyes flickered to your waist, where Lucifer’s grip was still strong - Lucifer didn’t dare loosen up, lest Solomon think he had any shame in being “caught.”

When Solomon asked to steal you away, Lucifer obliged, sending you off with what could only be described as a warning glance. You seemed relieved to be in the hold of somebody else, and Lucifer couldn’t blame you. At least you seemed to have some common sense about you. Still, he couldn’t deny the way the coil in his stomach only got tighter.

He figured it was just a result of both human exchange students being massive headaches and did his best to brush it away.

Ah, don't you know all this shit is annoying me You're in my world now, away from reality As long as I can toy with you for just a moment Then I don't mind, if you aren't really mine

Perhaps Lucifer was a fool for thinking if he left you alone you wouldn’t fester.

You had managed to be so, so much worse than he ever expected you to be. It wasn’t enough to simply meddle in the affairs of the brothers so readily available to you - no, five demons were not enough to sate your endless need for trouble. So, in the few months you had been in the Devildom, you decided to somehow find the one brother he needed to keep hidden from you and, in the process of going against explicit orders, set Belphegor free and get yourself killed. For a moment, seeing your lifeless body in Mammon’s arms, Lucifer wasn’t sure what had thrown him off: seeing his brother free and knowing the punishment that was charging towards him fast enough that he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop it, or the mountain of paperwork that would surely come from this turn of events. Mammon’s desperate denial echoing through the entrance of their manor wasn’t exactly helping, either.

But then you did the only thing you did better than causing endless migraine for Lucifer: you fixed your mistakes and started building something better from them.

After you revealed yourself and let the brothers know that you were still alive - while also somehow airing everybody’s dirty laundry at once, something he made a note to talk to you about - he watched as somehow, slowly, his brothers looked at each other with the same appreciation they used to in the Celestial Realm, lurking just beneath the surface. Sure, there was still plenty of progress to be made, but he finally saw a fracture in the insurmountable mountain he had been facing for thousands of years - and it was all because of you.

With the churning feeling the thought brought him, he started to understand how love and hate were thought of as two sides of the same coin.

Leviathan could be found peeking out of his room slightly more often, gravitating to the room you were in with a handheld device and offering to show you what he was playing. Satan took his books out, too, sitting in the same room as you and occasionally casting what he thought were sneaky glances your way. Asmodeus insisted on spending more time with you in his own way, trying to hide the way he held your face in his hands a little longer than necessary by saying he was assessing the state of your skin. Beel seemed more open around you, occasionally dropping snacks in your lap without needing to be asked, giving you a look that seemed to both ask if you were alright and assure you that he was when you met eyes. Even Belphegor had warmed up to you, trying to sandwich himself in between you and anybody close to you or pulling you away to quieter spaces where he could nap in your presence. Lucifer watched as the unease gradually melted away from your expression with each attempt he made to get you alone, until you seemed to feel safe with him.

As usual, Mammon stayed by your side, especially in the days after your...incident. There were many times when you would sit on a couch in the common room, only for Mammon to come flying in moments later and sit so close to you he was practically on your lap. Lucifer bit his warnings for him to be careful back at least half of the time, deciding that this puppy-dog behavior at least seemed to be keeping the two of you out of trouble.

Trouble…

It only took your untimely death and a harsh reminder of just how close you had managed to get to his brothers to force him into realizing that trouble was all he ever thought you of. Lucifer couldn’t quite decipher why that left such a sour taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was the fact that since the incident with Belphegor, he had barely seen you. Honestly, he only saw you a fraction of the day compared to the amount of times he needed to usher you into his office to set you straight beforehand. As embarrassed as he was to be suffering through such...withdrawal, a long day of stress from his brothers had him summoning for you before dinner.

You only opened the door enough to squeeze yourself through, sneaking in as if he were a sleeping lion you shouldn’t dare to wake. He watched as you slowly made your way in front of his desk, fiddling with your fingers the way you did when you were nervous. Strange. As far as he knew, you hadn’t done anything wrong. He hoped that if you did, you had the wisdom to keep your mouth shut.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked in a small voice. Lucifer held you in a steady gaze, glad that Mammon decided not to follow you this time. He’d have known how much of an act this was from the get go and scold him for ‘making the move on his human.’

“Yes.” Lucifer took his sweet time shuffling through the papers on his desk, watching you through his peripheral vision. He could feel your stress levels rising as you waited for an unknown blow, watching as you subconsciously fidgeted the longer he let the silence go on. When he decided that he had teased you enough, he leaned back in his chair and said, “I merely wanted to see how our exchange student was doing.”

“H-huh?!” You asked. Indignation flashed on your face in the most wonderful display before quickly being taken over by your practiced calm facade. “O-oh, I’m fine, thanks.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just fine?”

“Well….yeah. I’m good.”

Clearly, you weren’t one for conversation right now. With a sigh, he leaned back and thumbed through the papers on his desk again before pulling one out of the stack and placing it in front of him. Furrowing his eyebrows, he reached in his drawer and pulled out a small stack held together with a paperclip and dropped that one on top of the single sheet, holding back a smirk at the way you flinched.

“Good. Then I suppose we can get started on this paperwork about the whole accident.”

“What?!”

“Well, we still have to file an accidental death report. Or perhaps we should fill out an injury notice…? Ah, nevermind. It seems you’re up for both.”

He allowed you to turn on your heel and leave without another word. After staring at the now-empty space for a moment, he put the stack of absentee notices back in his drawer and continued on with his work.

It isn't jealousy or hate that made me act like that I'm not like her, so there's no need to get mad I know my way around this heat that we feel So don't worry, just enjoy Don't give me that look, boy!

You ran your hand down the side of your face, trying in futility to wipe the sleepiness from your mind. Sitting in the dimly lit office, you listened as Lucifer droned on about your test grade. The lecture had turned into a study session, which you appreciated, but it quickly turned back into a lecture after one too many mistakes on your part. You could see the irritation clear on his face, yet he was speaking to you as if you had just been caught plotting something treasonous against Diavolo.

You tried to huff quietly, but Lucifer’s sharp ears heard you. The stony glare he held you in woke you up instantly. “Oh, is this too boring? Perhaps that explains your performance.”

Already having been caught, you sighed. “No, Mammon has just been keeping me up lately.” It was too late in the night to think about how you accidentally ratted him out.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed so you could only see the red seemingly glowing with the rage he was hardly holding back. Stopping the pacing he had taken up an hour ago, he turned towards you and took long strides to stand in front of the desk until he was beside his chair. You kept your sleepy gaze locked on his eyes, a silent challenge for him to back down. What would he do to the precious, fragile little human while they’re half asleep?

With a sigh, Lucifer closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his own way of breaking the stare-off without really admitting defeat. “I should have known he had something to do with this.”

“Hey…” If Lucifer ended up punishing Mammon for your own slip-up with your grades, you’d be feeling guilty about it for weeks. “It wasn’t really his fault. I should know by now how much studying I need to do…”

“Hmph. Since this leads back to him, I suppose I have no choice. The two of you are banned from seeing each other until I can come up with a fitting punishment and study regimen to set you both straight.”

“What?” You stood up from your chair, not changing how he literally looked down on you but feeling as if you looked more imposing. “You can’t just do that!”

“I will do what I must to keep you on track, as is my responsibility.”

“You cannot forbid me from talking to your brothers. Besides, isn’t he supposed to be my guardian?”

“You have more pacts, should the need arise. If he insists on hoarding your time as he has, then-”

“Oh, is that what this is about? I didn’t expect you to be so jealous about it.” You scoffed. “Now you’re really being a Mammon.”

“Do not compare me to him in that way ever again!” He barked at you, slamming a hand down on the desk with a loud bang! That shut you up quickly, and you watched Lucifer warily in case he lost control of himself. For a brief moment, the human glamour surrounding him faded and you saw a flicker of his wings, feathers splayed out and bristled in his anger. “This study session has gotten away from us. You may turn in for the night.”

Despite his mighty anger, the time you spent with him and your inherent recklessness left you unable to cower. The longer you stayed in a stand-off, the more pointed your expression got until you were giving him the most doubtful expression he had ever seen on your face. “You know, I wouldn’t mind spending these nights with you if they didn’t always end with you yelling at me.”

As if on cue, the D.D.D. you left on the desk lit up, allowing Lucifer a glimpse of the many messages and calls left by none other than the second brother. Fighting back a grimace, he watched you snatch it up and collect your books in a hurry. Some of the papers crinkled as you shoved them into your bag, but he didn’t wince - he did play a part in your haste, after all.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who you were going to vent to in a few minutes. Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to care, though, not when he had the distinct feeling he had ruined his chances at a goal he wasn’t aware he was trying to meet.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't take it so untie it as much as you please Close your eyes and stop your breath if you dare Even if this dream isn't yours, just keep dreaming it

He hadn’t intentionally softened up on you, yet he found that he took those words to heart.

After the incident in his office, you told him that you thought you’d study better on your own and improved your grade with your next test. In the weeks leading up to it, Lucifer could hardly get you to stop for him, only seeing you at dinner and when he would text you about urgent transfer student business. Even after he got word of your improved marks, he still had trouble getting to you for long enough to offer a proper congratulations. You really did prove yourself to be a ton of effort time and time again.

It wasn’t until you started to seek him out that he was able to properly communicate with you again.

You found him in the kitchen when he had dinner duty, on a rare night when he didn’t need to bribe someone to pick it up for him. He could feel your presence even with his back turned, aware of the way you leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms. He finished chopping the ingredients on the cutting board in front of him before looking over his shoulder at you curiously.

“Need a hand?” You asked. Something in your voice was different - more confident. Lucifer could hear the challenge in it, even if the details still hadn’t made themselves known.

He gestured to the small pile of dishes in the sink, not about to turn your company away. You nodded and started to run the water, letting silence settle between you. Finding himself watching you for a few beats too long, Lucifer cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his chopped vegetables. He noticed that the second half were chopped a little more unevenly than the other pieces, and he quickly pushed them into the pan.

Clearly, you had taken a page from his book and decided to leave him in wait, biding your time before finally hitting him with your carefully chosen words. Unlike you normally were, he wasn’t on the edge of his seat, sweating in anticipation - but the longer the silence wore on, he found his patience wearing thin. Even if this performance of yours was amusing, he still found himself aggravated by just how far you thought you could push your luck.

Finally, you decided to speak up. “Have I been avoiding you these past few weeks?”

Lucifer didn’t let himself falter in stirring the pot on the stove. “I believe that’s a question only you know the answer to.”

“Hm. Well, I haven’t been meaning to.”

“Based on our last meeting, that much has been hard to tell.”

“Do you really think I’m so petty?” You turned the water on to rinse the bowl in your hands, forcing him to wait until responding.

“With so many strong personalities now bound to you in pacts, it’s hard to tell how their influence will manifest.”

You gave him a bitter laugh, shoving your hands in the water until your palms flattened out on the bottom of the sink. The warm water felt hotter on the skin on your forearms that hadn’t been able to build a tolerance to it. Even if your intent was not to start a petty argument, his intentions clearly didn’t align with yours.

“No, I think I have to solid a grasp on myself to let them do that to me.”

He said nothing, but you could hear his confident footsteps as he approached you. His gaze met yours in a silent challenge as he slid the cutting board in the water, unconsciously allowing himself to gravitate towards you. When he got too close for you, you grabbed a spatulat from the bottom of the sink and gently pressed the flat end against his chest to push him away. Lucifer glanced at his shirt, clearly miffed at the damp stripe across his chest.

“You know, Lucifer, if you want a pact with me, you just have to ask.”

For a moment, the expression on Lucifer’s face was too convoluted for you to make sense of. He certainly didn’t look caught off guard, but he also wasn’t as furious as you thought he’d be. With his eyebrows furrowed together and his gaze searching yours, you couldn’t figure out where his shock and confusion ended and his anger began. You cursed him and how he always seemed to have a grasp on what he let you know through his expressions alone.

Lucifer stood there, hoping that the confusion on your face wasn’t covering something else that would force you away from him. He couldn’t understand how you always managed to pierce through him and see directly into his mind. As he was coming to understand it, he did want a pact with you. Certainly not because he saw how close those brothers of his were to you now, though - he was not the avatar of envy, and he had nothing to be envious of, especially in regards to them - but the thought of his mark on your skin, the thought of you belonging to him in such a way was undeniably appealing.

However, every interaction with you didn’t seem to push him in the direction of ever obtaining such a relationship with you.

Quickly gathering his wits, he only scoffed and went back to his post on the other side of the kitchen. You turned towards your job, too. This time, he wasn’t the only one ruminating in stubborn silence.

I don't feel no guilt, oh, is that so wrong? Ah, instead of asking why don't you take me along? Just admit that I'm the best, now you see Love me till I hurt oh baby, come over here and set me free

Asmodeus: You won’t believe what I just found out about the succubus I was telling you about yesterday! Satan: Have you gotten to the seventeenth chapter yet? It really is the turning point, in my opinion. Leviathan: ok thx Lucifer, YOU S*CK!: Heh, yeah, that’ll be perfect. Mammon: Oi, are you even paying attention to me?!?

With a sigh, you turned your D.D.D. off without responding to the messages and tucked it back in your bag.You were already on your way to the House of Lamentation. The brothers could (and would) bother you the moment you walked through the door.

“I’ve sighed like that many times,” Lucifer said beside you, looking down at you with a polite half smile. “My brothers are hounding you again, no doubt.”

“Yeah...they’re quite...affectionate.”

“That is a word you could use,” He agreed. “Though sometimes, not the most accurate.”

You chuckled them, purposely averting your gaze. Part of Lucifer wanted to direct your attention back to him so he could watch the pretty blush that painted your cheeks as you laughed, but he kept his hands to his sides. It was so difficult anymore to know what you were thinking. The closer he got to you, the more he learned to find comfort in your presence, the more he found the pesky feeling of hope cloud his judgement and his crystal-clear vision. How could he be sure that, now that the two of you were finally on good terms, you weren’t comfortable with the relationship? It had been so long since Lucifer had to forge an entirely new relationship, and he had the world’s most troublesome (or second most troublesome, considering your competition) human to work with. Though he was never one to question his own judgement, he still couldn’t help but tsk at the sheer absurdity of the task.

“This is probably the most peaceful walk home I’ve had in a while. It’s astonishing how easy they make getting caught up in trouble on the way seem.”

“Is that why the other day you seemed so shocked when we told you the walk was only a few minutes?”

You chuckled again. “Yeah. All the detours make it seem longer.”

“Perhaps one of these days, I should take you on a detour of my own then?” When you stopped walking, he turned back to give you a sly smile. “I’m not one to be bested by my brothers, you know.”

“Wow, ruthless,” You began walking again and fiddled with your backpack strap nervously. “Maybe I should be the one to plan it, though. I’m not entirely convinced your version of a detour wouldn’t involve more paperwork.”

“Shall I be looking forward to this date, then?” Lucifer could feel the embarrassment radiating off of you. He loved to make you this flustered, so he could realign his sights while you were too preoccupied to hide behind anything. And you just so happened to be unbearably cute with your face turning red. The way you muttered ‘yes’ and dashed up the steps to the house had him preening.

Love is just a feeling I do not need I can't handle it so I'll go on tirelessly Close your eyes and feel me breathe down your neck Even if this dream isn't yours just keep dreaming it

Bit by bit, Lucifer found himself finally, finally getting closer to you without any unpleasant endings. (Well, save for the ones where one of his brothers interrupted and dragged you away, but the two of you shared a fondness for their shenanigans that made it difficult to stay mad at them.)

Or, well...staying mad at them was difficult for you/.

Lucifer wasn’t upset with his brothers, but there was a certain frustration bubbling up beneath the surface that he had to wrestle down every time he had a moment to wonder about their actions. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to spend time with you - after all, he himself was trying to make himself time in your schedule. Not only that, but the ever-approaching end of the semester was looming over them, and everyone could feel the desperate attempts to get one last bid for your affections in before you left. The whole situation was rather distracting, his far-wandering thoughts only adding to the time he spent hunched over his desk instead of out with you.

Lucifer was not a man to waste time bemoaning facts that he could not change. That did not mean he was immune from all feelings of doubt or irritation. He might have been able to concentrate if there wasn’t such a pesky thought creeping up on him the second he let his mind stray from his papers. Still, he couldn’t help the ugly sensation of being caught in a competition where he might actually be losing.

Though he had faith in your tenacity - that and your boldness were truly qualities to marvel at - Lucifer did wonder just how much you valued availability. He thought that the two of you had come to a silent agreement - that you thought alike, that you felt alike - but as much as he knew what happened beyond the door to his office, you remained the enigma.

It would be so easy if he could just get you to admit that he was the one you thought of above all the others. The desire for such a simple statement, he hid with faux aggravation at your refusal to admit such a simple task. As much as he tried to convince himself that you were hanging out with the others as a replacement for him, he knew just how much and how uniquely you valued the others.

He didn’t need to use force to get what he wanted, but he was slightly accustomed to nothing standing strong in the presence of his power. You, however, never bowed, and it grated at him how much he wanted to rightfully earn that place in your heart and how difficult it was to just get you to say it.

His thoughts distracted him from his papers, his papers distracted him from his thoughts. They all distracted him from you, aside from when he wondered if you were thinking something similar about him.

Are you really asking why you're alone? Turned your back on me and I get why you don't want more Come back, hold me, dear, love me till I scream

Your departure was approaching, and Lucifer found himself alone.

His moments not spent on work or cleaning up after his brothers were normally spent with you. Unless, of course, those moments happened in the early hours of the morning and he should be dead on his pillow.

Perhaps if he found himself graced with your presence, he wouldn’t have slept anyway. It wasn’t sleep he was chasing, after all, but you. You were the one he was vying for, even if his pursuit felt less romantic and more like running after a wild goose. No good things came easy, he told himself. He didn’t need easy.

But your longing glances were getting harder to pull away from, and the days until you left were already in the single digits. It was hard enough to steal you away for a moment, let alone enough time to lay his intentions bare and finally get what you both wanted.

He hated the thought that he had let you take the lead in the relationship in a roundabout sense, so he preoccupied himself with anger over having to do all the hard work himself.

He could list off all the reasons you would return to him, the obvious choice, for hours if asked, and even then only put a dent in the miles of options. The fact that he even considered justifying himself to anyone felt foreign, but he let his mind settle on the thought anyway. Still, it didn’t go unnoticed how you didn’t try to leave the sides of his other brothers, how nobody bothered to knock on his door anymore, too preoccupied with you. He missed you already, and he hadn’t even seen you off yet.

Lucifer knew that you’d come to him eventually. He didn’t doubt you, and he certainly didn’t doubt himself. But you had a habit of making him wait and wonder.

He was just about tired of waiting, he was tired of wondering, and he didn’t know if he could take another dream that only left him more confused than he was when he fell asleep.

Don't you ever wake up baby, keep on dreaming our dream

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telli1206 · 4 years ago

Text

The Heart Will Follow (Chapter 2)

Jay’s never had a crush...until he met Carlos. And now he can’t stay away.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of Jay’s presence, yet. But what should he do, exactly, about a boy that’s both cute AND terrifying?

A collection of Jaylos isle meetings, inspired by this beautiful headcanon I came across randomly that I can’t get out of my head. And thank you to @hersilentlanguage for motivating me to post this!

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: It Was Only Me And You

Evie tilts her head slowly, trying ever so gingerly to cast a subtle glance over her shoulder. Once she catches a flash of dark eyes, she whips back around. She tries to keep her actions as casual and composed as possible, but Carlos quirks a brow when he notices her mouth tipped open in surprise.

“He’s looking over here again. He’s-yeah, Jay’s definitely staring at you.”

Carlos sighs deeply and scrunches his eyes closed, letting his body slink back lax in his chair.

“Really? W-why do you think he keeps, doing that?”

Evie chews on her lip for a moment, examining Carlos carefully as his eyes flutter open to meet hers.

“Who knows.” She waves off the topic, leaning forward to help Carlos tackle the massive pile of books on his desk. “But there’s no point in worrying about it right now, is there? We have to get you home so you can catch up on these assignments.”

Carlos blinks, staring at her with a surprised look. He starts to turn, as if debating a look behind him, to see what Evie saw, but instead shifts back quickly and straightens up in his seat.

“O-ok. I guess. There is a lot here for me to do.”

He grabs his bag, smiling gratefully as Evie starts to stack his books so he can easily slide them in.

“Thanks, Evie.”

Evie feels a warmth bloom in her chest, and she has to fight down the happy curl that’s making its way across her lips. She only officially met her new friend a couple of hours ago, and already she feels giddy with excitement to have found a fellow kind soul on this dump of an island. She only wishes that she had a chance to meet him sooner. The fact that Carlos was hidden this whole time in the mansion just across the way from her seems like a travesty - a friendship that she’s really needed, and been deprived of.

Her resistance to smiling ebbs away the more she watches Carlos. He’s stopping every time he picks up a book to let his fingers trace across the letters on the cover, brown eyes alight with wonder, before carefully tucking his new treasure safely into his bag. It’s definitely slowing down their exit from class, but Evie can’t help but marvel at how excited Carlos is for school. It’s adorable.

And she finally has someone she can ask to study that won’t look at her like a complete freak for actually wanting to do her school work.

Evie’s knocked out of her thoughts by a loud snort from behind, obnoxious enough to startle her and make Carlos flinch. Her eyes narrow at Mal, who flashes her a steely glare while dragging Jay along past her and Carlos.

Jay’s constant presence makes Evie uneasy. Even as Mal pulls him by forcefully, he’s still staring at Carlos. And now he’s close...too close for her comfort. She tenses when she sees the thief leaning in even closer to her friend, only relaxing when Mal firmly yanks him away, earning space between Jay and Carlos.

Evie comes around the desk to stand by Carlos, making a fuss under the guise of helping him more, but secretly hoping for protection for him that can come with her proximity. Carlos smiles gratefully at her, happy for her help, but also glaringly oblivous to the fact that he’s still in the sights of his dark-haired classmate.

“Come on, Carlos, we should head home. By the way, can I tell you how excited I am to have someone to walk home with? Especially since it’s you.”

Carlos ducks his head, hiding a shy smile as he slings his hefty backpack over his shoulder. Two books are still in his hand, and he ignores Evie’s comment (other than the light flush dusting his cheeks, which Evie still notices) in favor of chattering excitedly about his first Poisons and Potions class tomorrow.

His animated talk is the perfect distraction, allowing Evie to guide them quickly away from prying eyes. She hooks a hand under Carlos’ elbow the second she sees Mal and Jay lingering against the lockers. She isn’t sure why they’re still hanging around nearby, but she’s not about to stay and find out.

“-so I know we probably can’t bring materials home, but do you think the teacher might make an exception if I offered to clean up the room for them or something? Because there’s an acid that’s good for cleaning concrete that I could really use. Mother would love-”

Evie’s half listening to Carlos, nodding and humming accordingly so he continues while she’s keeping a watchful eye. She fixes as heated a glare as she can muster when she catches Jay’s eye, feeling mildly satisfied when his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

She lets her glare shift then to Mal, hoping for a smiliar reaction, but is less than surprised when instead the girl’s face scrunches in anger, and a mocking tongue pokes from between her pinkish lips.

For a second Evie thinks how much fun it would be to just bite at that offensive pink tongue, and to bruise those small, pouty lips with pressure from her own. Mal would be shocked, no doubt, and the painful groans would be music to her ears...

Wait...painfulshrieks. Why is she thinking about Mal’s groans?

Evie shakes her head dismissively, returning her focus to Carlos and his chemistry babbling. She’s having trouble holding onto his elbow as his gestures become more wild and exagerrated. His nose is scrunched and his cheeks are flushed and red from barely taking a breath between sentences. It makes his freckles stand out so much more against the brightening skin.

He’s so cute, Evie thinks, stealing peeks at him as they walk. With beautiful brown eyes and lips like his, she has no doubt her friend will have at least a few of the kids at Dragon Hall crushing. Hard.

Her thoughts suddenly shift to Jay, and the looks he was giving Carlos. His stares. The creepy closeness. And her breath hitches in her throat.

Maybe she’ll have more to worry about with Jay than she originally thought.

———

“Evie? I appreciate you walking with me, but isn’t your home...right there?”

Carlos points back to the dusty sidewalk Evie had just hurried past. It’s dirty and quiet and isolated like it’s barely even looked at, let alone used. And yet, there’s still a light disturbance in the softly settled dirt that bares an eerie resemblance to Evie’s high-heeled shoes.

Yes, Carlos surmises. Those are definitely her heel prints and that’s most definitely her turn off to get home.

But her fingers are fidgeting and her gaze is scattered. She’s quietly shaking her head No but refusing to look at him at the same time.

“Evie? Is...is something, wrong?”

She finally looks up at him, her bottom lip pulled tight between her teeth. Carlos catches a look of concern before Evie relaxes and flashes a toothy grin. It seems...forced? But Carlos decides not to question it.

“Of course not, Carlos! I’m fine,” she chirps, still smiling at him. “I just want to make sure you make it home ok.”

She covers Carlos’ hand with her own and smiles warmly, and Carlos is practically beaming from the attention.

He was overjoyed when his mother finally agreed to let him attend school. But he had never imagined that going to Dragon Hall would benefit him even more than just advancing his education.

But now, he has his first...friend. And it’s already better than he could have hoped for.

“Evie, how do you think I made it home before today?” he teases with a little smirk. “I’ll be ok, I swear. Besides, if your mom’s anything like mine, she’s going to be royally pissed if you’re late. Am I right?”

Evie sighs, casting a troubled glance towards her castle, and Carlos knows his assumption was spot-on. Not that he’s surprised, really. He would have been more shocked to find out Evie had kind, loving parents than the latter.

But to Carlos, that only begs the question why Evie would want to go against her best interest to stay with him.

“Get going,” he urges again, pointing towards her castle. “I want to walk to school with you in the morning, so don’t go getting yourself in trouble, ok? I’m not about to lose a fr- uh, person, I just found over something so trivial.”

Evie cracks a smile, clearly not missing Carlos’ almost slip-up. Evil, hopefully he didn’t already ruin things by flat-out announcing his desperation by using a word only saved for the weakest of islers.

“Ok, I guess you’re right,” Evie chirps, and Carlos breathes a sigh of relief at the smile still bright on her face. “You’ll be careful though, right? Just...watch your back.”

Carlos raises a brow. “Of course. But...what do you think’s going to happen, Evie? I’m like, 50 feet from my front door.”

Evie bites her lip again, letting her eyes scan behind them, over alleyways and their quiet, abandoned path. She pauses for a moment to narrow her gaze on one darkened corner, and Carlos can feel his heart thudding harder in his chest as he examines her movements. But she finally eases her stance and turns back to face him.

“It’s...nothing. Really. It’s just - anything can happen, right? I worry about everything,” she dismisses with a chuckle. “I’ll..um...I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? Do you, want to meet here? At 7? And...walk to school, together?”

Carlos immediately brightens at the idea, Evie matching his wide smile with her own.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Evie presses her smile down, offering a short wave before turning to follow the path towards her castle. Carlos watches for a moment, instinctively checking to make sure she’s safe before heading his own way. But he can’t help noticing her eyes continually darting back to that corner, as if waiting for something...or someone to emerge from the darkness.

Carlos tries to shake off his nerves as he watches Evie’s figure disappear around the mildly crumbling brick of her castle. After a final pause to listen for any sounds of distress, he takes a deep breath and starts the rest of his trek to Hell Hall alone.

At least, he thinks he’s alone.

And the muted silence deludes him into believing that that’s the case...for a while, at least. It’s not until he’s just about to ascend the steps to his front door that a distinct crunch of dry leaves behind him leaves him frozen in his tracks.

“Heh. Shit.”

Carlos spins on his heel, and comes face to face with...Jay?

“Um..what’s up, short stuff?”

Carlos huffs at his words, his fists clenched as he tries his best to stare down one of the most intimidating boys at his new school. There’s no way he’s about to show fear when Jay’s right in front of his own home.

Wait, why is he at his home?

“W-what do you want?” Carlos presses, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I-I know my house looks...big, but I don’t have-”

“Is the bitch home?”

Jay takes a slow step forward, and Carlos swallows. He’s barely a foot away now, and it feels so close. He can almost smell the sweat beading on Jay’s brow. He keeps his eyes trained down, with a blurring focus just below Jay’s chin, so as not to concentrate on the smirk he knows he’s giving him right now.

“Y-yeah. And she’ll probably beat my ass, a-and yours too, if I don’t get inside right away. I-I need to make...h-her dinner.”

Shit. That sounded so weak. Carlos dares a peek at Jay’s face, and it surprised to see the smile wiped away, and Jay chewing on his lip. He looks almost...worried.

And he surprises Carlos further by taking a generous step back, his arms raised in surrender.

“Well, wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Jay teases, and Carlos curls a sneer at his mocking tone. “Now, now, calm it down freckles. I’m not gonna get you in trouble, ok?”

Jay drops his hands into his pockets, hunching over to rock on his heels some.

“Doubt those eyes of yours would be so pretty with nasty purple bruises around ‘em. Until next time, then?”

Jay pulls out a hand to issue an awkward salute, quirking a smile as Carlos tilts his head, eyes narrowed and confused.

“Bye bye, Carlos De Vil.”

Jay turns and shuffles slowly down the path, kicking at random pieces of dirt and rocks on the way. He keeps his head down, refusing to look up or even cast a single glance behind him.

But Carlos stands unmoving, still staring at the weird thief with long, dark hair that’s tangling in the dry heat. He’s trying to make sense of what just happened, but all logic that could explain what just happened is lost on him.

Did Jay just say his eyes were pretty?

#jaylos #jay x carlos #descendants #my writing #carvie #malvie #Carlos De Vil #jay son of jafar #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #the isle of the lost

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sunatooru · 4 years ago

Note

OMG FIRST OF ALL CON-FUCKING-GRATS ON 3K! YOU DESERVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US SWEET MERCY!!!!

I followed bc I really loved your emergency requests but I found that I ADORED your writing style and like hhhh-

I would very much like to celebrate with you :)

I am 17, 5’11, I’m a bigger girl.

I’m a huge theatre kid, mezzo soprano and an intermediate opera singer. I cantor for my church and also sing competitively. I’m also a photographer and the editor-in-chief of my school’s yearbook. I play marching snare for my school’s drumline.

I like video games, sixties music, anime and crafts. I collect figurines and seashells! I’m up to 19 funko pops and I have a banpresto of Yams on the way. I’m a mediocre writer and a huge English nerd. My favorite color is viridian green.

I dislike obsecure things like gum chewing or the squeaky sounds that wind instruments make.

I absolutely love the “only one bed” trope. But also slow burn best friends. It’s up to you!

Male character please :D

She/her pronouns please!

CONGRATS ONCE AGAIN AAAAH!!

That means so much thank you! <3 I LOVE THE PICS :))

Warnings: high school setting, one bed trope

I match you up with…SUGAWARA KOUSHI

It wasn’t unusual to have Koushi around yours. You thought he was really nice and decided to befriend him, even though he was older. You had slowly become close and when you struggled with classes, he would offer to help.

Today was one of those days. Your parents had gone out for dinner and Koushi was helping you with a tough assignment.

“Hmm, well the writer could be using a metaphor here but they also seem to be using lots of juxtapositions too.” He rubs his chin and you yawn, quickly covering your mouth.

“Nah it’s okay. It is pretty late.” He checks his phone and stands up.

“Oh are you going to leave? It is pretty late, maybe wait until my parents come back so they can drop you?” You offer and he looks back at his phone and outside.

“You’re right. It’s gotten dark too. I’ll just stay a bit long then.” He lets out a yawn and gets a little flustered.

You start to pack and stand in front of your bed.

“Oh… the sofa isn’t really comfortable, so my bed is the only one you can sleep on.” You bite your lip and he fidgets with his hands.

“I-ah I can just stay on the floor with a pillow.” He scrambles out and quickly stops you from using the floor when you suggest it.

“No no ah, you’re probably tired after practice and helping me, so use the bed. It’s big and I’ll leave as much space for you.” After a few minutes he agrees.

It’s quiet as you both lie in bed. The silence only breaking when he speaks.

“I’ve heard you singing. You’re really good. Almost didn’t believe your voice was that good haha. Even Asahi was like ‘she’s amazing’. ” He smiles at the ceiling and you feel your body warm up.

“Thank you. You’re really cool when you play. I think you’re great when you motivate the others. It’s inspiring.” You praise, smiling at the ceiling too.

“Thanks. I’m happy the team is going so far. We deserve it. Maybe we should have you sing a chant for us. We would probably be more hyped up with you in our corner…I know I would.” He whispers the last part, silence once again taking over until you hear deep breaths.

“I’ll always be in your corner.” You mumble before closing your eyes.

#b.3k match up event #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfic #hq matchups

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dal3ks · 5 years ago

Text

the project

pairing: peter parker x female reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, cursing, teasing, coaxing, pet names, mentions to anatomy, marking, oral(receiving), both characters are of age!

a/n: this was a fic i had posted on my main account @a-dorin, but i am in the process of switching over content so that it is a strictly star wars account! just a disclaimer, i am not plagiarizing or stealing content, as this is my fic!

"today i have an exciting announcement," your chemistry teacher gushed, "since we are right on track for the unit, we will be taking a slight detour in our lesson plans. this whole week, we will be learning all about human chemistry!"

the class groaned, and you turned around to your best friend, nova, "how fucking lame."

she winked at you, "it'll be fun."

"so, to kick off this unit, we will be conducting a project on chemical reactions in the human body. i know you all have lab partners, but to make it fun, i will be drawing names out of a cup. everyone's name is on a slip of paper. i will begin drawing names right now, then we will discuss some of the parameters of the project," your teacher continued, a wide smile on his face.

drawing in a sigh, you glanced around the entirety of the room. m.j., one of your close friends, looked intrigued, as she was sitting next to your best friend, nova. flash looked disgusted, while peter and ned both grimaced to one another.

a part of you was hoping you would be paired up with your high school crush, peter parker. ever since the first semester of your freshman year, you had been attracted to him. he had bumped into you in the hallway between seventh and eighth period, knocking your coffee out of your hand. he apologized profusely, even handing you a ten dollar bill for the next coffee run. ever since then, you wanted to get to know the shy boy.

both of you guys had made small exchanges since that encounter, whether it was greeting one another in the hallway, sharing a seat on a bus ride, or giving one another snacks in class. since m.j. was within your friend group, you did get to see peter some, as they were mutual friends.

every girl at your high school adored peter. he was charismatic, charming, and was passionate about his friends and school. also, who was ever offered the opportunity to work alongside tony stark? that was another aspect you adored about peter. whenever you guys did chat, it was usually a vivid, funny story about peter's internship with stark industries. his stories made you laugh every time.

even though peter was short, he was taller than you. his floppy brown curls had all of the girls drooling. his smile was radiant, and his body was amazing. you had snuck glances during gym class. the boy was extremely fit. you figured it was due to his internship with stark industries, or maybe the boy just liked to work out. regardless, his body was extremely attractive.

"(y/n) (l/n)," your chemistry teachers voice rang out, snapping you out of your thoughts, "you will be paired with... peter parker."

you widened your eyes, surprised at what you were hearing. glancing over at peter, you realized he looked just as surprised as you were. even though the class had "random" partners, the chemistry teacher usually paired you up with your friends.

after the teacher finished assigning partners, he cleared his throat, "all right everyone! please sit next to your partner while i hand out the rubrics. m.j., can you please help me pass out the papers?"

peter slid into the seat next to you, clearing his throat, "well, i guess we're partners."

"i don't mind it one bit," you flashed him a wide smile.

"so i'm not entirely sure what this project is," peter mumbled, his eyes focused on the table.

m.j. handed us the rubrics, "i'm not sure if you listened to the entire lecture, dipshit. the project is over chemical reactions in the human body."

peter looked sheepish, "yeah, i got that part. but is there anything in the rubric that states that we need to do?"

"i'm sure it's all in the rubric," m.j. smiled sweetly.

you slid peter a rubric for the project, "hey, i'm really sorry if i'm not ned."

"it's cool," he shrugged, obviously in distress. ned was paired with nova, and they were already working on their project, taking notes.

"how about i give you my number?" you inquired, sliding your phone out of your hoodie pocket, "and you come over tonight so we can get a head start?"

"that sounds good," he nodded, taking your phone and typing the number into his phone, "how about i call you when i'm on my way?"

you smiled, eagerly taking the phone back, "that works. i'm home alone tonight, so even better."

peter blushed, just nodding, "i'll call you later then when i'm on my way."

the bell rang, signifying the end of the period. luckily chemistry was your last class of the day. you walked home, bubbly that peter was coming over tonight. once you arrived home, you took a hot shower, shaved your legs, put on lotion, and threw on some clothes. since it was fall, you opted for an over sized hoodie, paired with black leggings. you sprayed your favorite perfume, ensured your skin looked good, and threw on mascara.

once you were all ready, you straightened up your room. you made your bed, throwing some stuffed animals in the closet. peter never told you a time he would come over, but you assumed it would be later in the evening. by the time you finished cleaning the house, it was about seven thirty-eight. you sighed, a feeling of distress creeping over you. what if peter didn't want to come over? what if he stood you up?

a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. you fluffed your hair, opening the door. there, stood peter, with a white paper bag in his hand, a two liter of cherry coke in the other, "hey, can i come in?"

"of course," he stepped in, setting his book bag near the door, "what did ya bring me?"

he smiled slightly, "oh, my aunt went down to this deli and picked us up some subs and this soda."

"well," you began, "i'm not too hungry right now. maybe we could start on our project, and eat later?"

"okay," he handed you the bag, "you probably know where to put this."

you took it from him, "yeah, the kitchen is just this way. follow me."

"your house is so nice," peter breathed as he followed you, his voice low.

"thank you," you placed the bag in the fridge, taking the two liter from his hand, "you can thank my dad for that. he remodeled the whole house."

"he did an excellent job," peter peered at the kitchen, his brown eyes taking in the granite island, "this looks like somewhere tony stark would live."

you giggled, "it's not that nice."

"it's nice," he nodded enthusiastically, "your dad must be a genius. like a interior design genius."

"honestly he had this idea for a while," you felt myself smile again, "he just acted on it and made it happen. do you wanna head up to my room?"

peter's eyes widened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, "i mean, yeah, we can do that. for sure."

you had him follow you upstairs to your room, guiding him. once you were in the room, he marveled at all of the posters, polaroids, and lights plastered on the walls. you sat down on the floor, grabbing your laptop. peter sat down next to you, biting his lip anxiously.

"oh shit," he mumbled, "i forgot my laptop downstairs."

"don't worry about it," you placed your hand on top of his, "we just need to do a little bit of research anyways. i was thinking maybe we could just do an oral presentation? or we could do PowerPoint. whatever you wanna do."

"okay," you were sure peter's lip would start bleeding if he chewed it even more than he already was.

as you both locked eyes, you noticed that he had a slight cut on his right cheekbone. you frowned, feeling yourself instinctively place your hand on his cheek, the pad of your thumb gently caressing it. he flinched at your touch, but kept looking at you.

"what happened? you didn't have that earlier today in class." the words tumbled out of your mouth, and you immediately felt nosy for asking.

"oh," he stuttered, "i ran into the door frame at the apartment on my way over here. i guess i was a little excited."

"excited to see me?" you raised a brow, feeling heat rush into your cheeks. a blush spread into your cheeks, and you immediately wanted to cover up your face.

"well," peter shifted nervously, "i mean, i didn't want to be too late, and i heard how you were going to be alone so i didn't want you to be alone, and yeah. um, yeah, i was excited to see you tonight."

you scooted closer to him, and his shyness began to dissolve, as he allowed you to continue to hold his face. you could almost feel his waves of anxiety radiating off of him. he was extremely nervous but you didn't know what about.

"peter," your voice was soft, "are you okay?"

his eyes met yours, “i kinda want to tell you something."

"and that is?" you bit my lip.

"i like you, like a lot. i mean, god you're so beautiful. all of the guys at school talk about you and jesus. i probably act like a fucking idiot all the time around you but god i like you so much. i even ran into the door frame because i was so excited to see you. and maybe you don't like me either but i just can't help but be nervous. i just care about you so much. you're so beautiful. like really really beautiful." all of the words tumbling out of his mouth sounded sincere. his cheeks were burning crimson with embarrassment.

"peter," you murmured, your face dangerously close to his. his bottom lip was swollen from him biting it earlier, "i have feelings for you too."

peter sighed with relief, "that makes me so happy."

"what's our project about again?" your hands felt for your laptop, and you pulled it closer to you two.

"chemical reactions in humans," peter answered, not breaking his gaze away from mine, "i have an idea for research since we haven't found a specific topic yet."

"and that is?" you raised an inquisitive brow.

he scooped you into his arms, laying you on your back on the bed. his lips met yours, kissing you eagerly. you pressed your lips against his, kissing him back, surprised at his rush of confidence. his tongue entered your mouth, the kisses becoming more and more hungry. peter's callused hands roamed your body under your hoodie, making contact with your skin. you shivered, goosebumps covering your body.

peter pulled back for a second, "is this okay?"

kissing him gently, you gave an answer against his lips, "yes, this is more than okay. it's amazing."

his lips pressed against your neck, sucking slightly. you knew there would be hickeys in the morning. you ran your hands through his hair, tugging lightly. he pressed his body against yours, and you could feel his hard on through his joggers. as he kissed down your neck, you palmed him through the fabric. he groaned against your neck, whining slightly.

peter motioned you to sit up, and you obeyed. his gentle fingers slipped the hoodie off your top half. a part of you wondered if he had done this with any other girl before. he slipped off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. you felt a slight wave of insecurity washing over you, you weren't as near as fit as he was.

peter seemed to sense the shift in your mood, kissing your chest, "stop. you're beautiful. god, i need all of you."

you undid the clasp on your lace nude bralette, letting it fall onto the floor beside the bed. peter widened his eyes, grasping each one of your breasts in his hands. he squeezed gently, unsure of what to do next. his eyes met yours, full of lust. his bottom lip was slightly swollen from the kissing, and his pupils were dilated.

his mouth latched onto your breasts, giving each one of them an equal amount of attention. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging harder this time as peter sucked, kissed, and licked all over your chest and breasts. the actions were driving you crazy. you could feel how wet you were, even with your leggings still on. as peter continued, you let out a small moan.

"what princess?" peter's voice was husky, "tell me what you want."

"i want you," you whined, "i want you so bad."

"mmm," he hummed, "that's not specific enough, baby. tell me exactly what you want."

"i want your touch so bad," your voice was edged with desire.

"yeah?" his voice was low.

you nodded eagerly, "i need you to touch me."

"as you wish princess," his lips pressed against yours gently.

peter's lips trailed down your stomach, leaving sloppy kisses. he stopped at the waistband of your leggings, his fingers hooking the fabric. he slipped your leggings off, his cheeks tinged red at the sight of your black lace thong.

"are you sure you're ready for it, princess?" peter's eyes met yours.

you bit your lip, nodding. god, he was so hot like this. his fingers delicately took your thong off, casting it to the floor. he took a second to let his eyes roam your body, savoring every inch of it. you felt peter's tongue immediately connect itself to your clit, going in slow, circular motions. you gripped his head, pressing his face into your thighs. that only encouraged him, as he began to suck on your clit. he inserted a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out.

"god," he groaned, "you taste so good baby."

"you're going to make me cum," you moaned, your cheeks hot and jaw slack. even though you had received oral before, peter was by far the best you ever had.

his tongue slowly licked up, taking in all of your pussy. he fingered you, making a hook with his two fingers. you could feel tension building up in you, driving you crazy. your orgasm was coming soon, and peter showed no signs of slowing down. peter wanted nothing more to do this all night if he could.

"you're close aren't you?" peter's breath was hot, "c'mon princess, you're almost there."

he sucked on your clit, squeezing one of your breasts in his hand. his fingers pulled on your nipple, and you felt yourself come undone. your loud moans filled the room, and peter gripped your thighs to keep you on the bed. he licked you until your thighs stopped trembling. once he was finished, he glanced up at you, his cheeks flushed.

you took his hand, sucking on his two fingers. he bit his lip, letting out a small sigh, "i told you that you tasted good."

your eyes drifted down at the sight of his hard on through his joggers. your hand palmed him through the fabric, and pleasure washed over him.

"hey peter," you murmured, "did you bring any condoms?"

his face reddened, "no, i, um. i have some, but not with me."

your fingers latched themselves on the waistband of his joggers, slowly gliding down his legs. he was still hard, his skin hot and his face flushed. his breath hitched in his throat as you pulled down his boxers, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

"peter," your eyes met his, "please fuck me."

he almost came at the sound of your words, the innocence in your tone. he pushed you on your back, kissing you hungrily. you felt his tip on your clit, and you let out a small whine.

"what princess?" his voice made the room ten times hotter, "tell me what you want."

"i want you," you whined, your pleas desperate, "i need you to fuck me so bad."

his cock entered you, and you let out a moan of pleasure. peter started with slow, rhythmic strokes, and you could feel all of him as he did so. as he fucked you, you placed wet kisses all over his toned chest and neck.

"you feel so good," peter groaned, his ears burning red. his eyes met yours, and you felt another wave of pleasure wash over you.

peter's lips met yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. there was a slight sheen of sweat on his skin, along with yours. he intensified his pace, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as he fucked you senseless. his shyness was now stripped away from him, and you loved it. you loved this moment and everything going on between you so goddamn much.

"i'm gonna cum," peter moaned. he pulled out, finishing on your stomach.

his eyes met yours once again, and you both laid there, taking in the moment. peter's lips met yours for a gentle kiss.

"i'll go grab something to clean this up with," you murmured, about to get up.

"no, you stay here," peter instructed, "just tell me where the bathroom is and i will grab a towel or something."

you gave in, telling peter where the bathroom was. he slipped on his boxers and joggers, and then went to on the search for a towel. he came back, carefully cleaning you up.

hopping off you bed, you grabbed a hoodie, throwing it on, "that was amazing."

he gave you a cheeky smile, "i just wanted to conduct some research."

"and what conclusions did you draw?" you giggled as you searched for a new pair of underwear.

"that one," he began, "you taste good. two, you have a beautiful body. and three, i cannot wait to do that again, baby."

you slipped on new thong, then found a pair of joggers, "how about we just forget the project for the rest of the night then?"

peter scooped you into his arms on the bed, cuddling you, "i don't think that's a bad idea. it's not due for another two weeks anyways."

you pressed your lips against his shoulder, "we'll be alone for another few hours anyways."

"sounds like there's going to be a round two soon then," he chuckled, "by the way, i hope i wasn't bad or anything. it was kind of my first time doing stuff like that."

you felt yourself gasp, "there's no way."

"i was a virgin before tonight so," he murmured, slightly embarrassed.

"don't be shy about it," you gave him a chaste kiss, "it's not something to be ashamed of."

"well maybe i will become experienced enough tonight and we can do our project about human chemistry during sex," peter teased.

"in your dreams, geek," you rolled your eyes playfully, and you felt his lips gently brush against your cheek.

you felt yourself collapse into his arms, feeling a slight wave of exhaustion overwhelm you. his fingers traced your back under the hoodie, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, content to be in the arms of your boy.

if only you got to spend every night like this with peter.

******

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spider-man #spider-man x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel x reader

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years ago

Text

Navigating the Chaos

Ao3

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 7: Homemade Gifts

After Alya’s little interrogation, Marinette and Adrien found each other in the hallway before walking into class together. He did ask her about the anime Marinette had mentioned on the fly, and Marinette happily explained the premise. He became interested in the storyline, especially given that he liked to consider himself the knight in his princess’s life, so the title definitely intrigued him when she had mentioned it earlier. He listened closely as she described some of the scenes, nodding along and deciding that it would be something he would thoroughly enjoy.

When they walked into the classroom and sat across from each other in their seats, the gaggle of girls noticed the change in their demeanor, yet chose to stay silent on the matter. They would just question Alya later to see if she had heard anything, or even just ask Marinette when she was alone during PE.

The rest of the morning went along fine. They sat beside each other in their classes and even focused on the joint assignment they were given the day before. When the lunch bell rang, Adrien turned to Marinette, a hopeful look in his eyes as he waited for her to finish packing.

“What are you doing for lunch, Marinette?”

“Huh?” She looked up from her bag, surprised that he had yet to leave. “Oh, uh, going home to eat.”

She finished zipping up her bag and shrugged them onto her shoulders, looking up at him with a smile.

“What about you?”

Adrien looked down and scuffed his shoe against the floor, looking up at her with slight hesitation. “Um. I was going to eat lunch in the cafeteria. Nino and Alya are going to a café today.”

“Oh.” She realized that he was eating alone and her heart couldn’t bear leaving him alone. “Why don’t you come over and eat at my house? I was going to snack and work on a sewing project, but you are welcomed to come over and put on a movie or play a video game. I just need to get this project done soon, so I need to focus on that. I hope that’s okay? I don’t want to be a lousy host.”

Adrien perked up at the invitation. “You aren’t a lousy host! If we are being honest, I’m the imposing houseguest. I don’t have to come. I can eat with Kim or Max. It’s not a big deal.”

“Adrien.” She called to him warmly, pressing her hand on his. “You are never an imposition.” She smiled, bringing a radiant smile on his lips. “Now let’s go. Food should be ready soon, and my sewing project will not sew itself.”

---

Focus, Marinette! She scolded at herself, trying but failing to stitch the seam while Adrien fed her bits of her food. She was adamant about not being fed while working, but Adrien was extra adamant that he could feed her while she worked. His reasoning was that she didn’t have to stop sewing to eat her food, and that if she forgot to eat, her food would be cold by the time she finished sewing the outfit.

She couldn’t deny those were good reasons, but she could have enjoyed her meal with him first before working on the project. But his adamancy and his sweet smile made her choose to follow his lead, and now she was stuck in a predicament of her love interest feeding her food like they were at a romantic restaurant.

“Here,” he held out the fork with a small piece of chicken with broccoli. His hand was cupped underneath the food, ensuring that neither the floor or her commission would get dirty.

She bit into the food and chewed slowly, trying her hardest not to choke on the bite after noticing the fondness in his eyes for doing this. She swallowed and thanked him, then turned back to her sewing project to finish the last piece of the seam before cutting the thread and tying it off. She inspected her work before turning towards her array of spools, and frowned when she couldn’t find the correct shade of blue.

She looked around her table to find where she had placed it, but then noticed that there was a seam out of place on the project.

“Shoot.” She sputtered out, and Adrien turned towards her with concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought I did this right, but a stitch is out of place. And I can’t find my blue spool.”

“It’s not that spool over there?”

“No. This one is a shade too dark. I need the light blue one. But I just need to fix this first.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and fix that. I’ll go get the spool.” Adrien got up and looked at the opposite end of the desk before turning towards the trunk. “Is it over here?” Adrien asked, looking towards the trunk as he said so.

Marinette was focused on removing the stitch to see what he was referring to. “Probably? I most likely have it attached to another commission. If you see it, can you bring the project over? I’ll remove the spool from the commission so I know where it goes.”

“Sure.”

Adrien walked near the trunk and noticed that there were a few commissions placed in baskets on the floor, but none were the color she was describing. He turned to the trunk and opened it, wondering if the commission was in there. But what he noticed was a large selection of gifts wrapped up nicely in the trunk, all addressed to him with Marinette’s name in a pretty flourish.

Adrien gasped and dropped the trunk’s lid in a panic, and Marinette turned towards the noise to see what was happening.

“Oh. Oh!” Marinette yelped out, jumping up and standing in front of the trunk to hide the surplus of gifts hidden in the trunk.

“Marinette?”

Marinette was about to sputter up a lie, ashamed of how foolish she had been for creating an array of homemade gifts until he was sixty years old, but the baffled look on his face just broke her heart. She just didn’t have the energy to lie to him anymore.

She carefully opened the trunk and took out the present that she was going to give him for his fifth names day this year. She looked at it solemnly, handing the wrapped present to him with a shy expression.

“Here.” She said as he lifted his hands to accept the gift, his eyes passing between her and the gift as if it was a bomb about to go off. “Open it. I made this for you. I mean. I made all of these for you.”

“All of them?” He whispered, his heart beating rapidly as he understood the reasoning behind the gifts.

“Yeah… all.” She chuckled lightly, an embarrassed flush coating her cheeks in response. “I got a little excited with my crush on you, that I spent some of my free time making you gifts for the next fifty years?”

Adrien swallowed thickly as he stared at the gift in his hand, handing it back to her so she could take it back.

“I’m sorry.” She said, dejectedly, knowing that this topic could put a stop to their partnership and friendship for the weirdness alone.

“Why are you sorry?” He whispered, worrying his bottom lip as to what she was about to say.

“You don’t want it. You’re handing it back. It’s weird, I know, and I understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore—”

“No!” Adrien shouted back at her, wanting her to stop her self-depreciating tone. “No. I love it! It’s sweet that you made all these for me. No one…” his tone lowered, a sad strain holding back a sob, “no one has made me anything like this. Not even my dad.”

“Oh, Adrien.” She frowned, dropping everything to hug him and make him feel wanted. “Open it. It’s yours.”

Adrien shook his head no, handing her back the gift. “No. I want you to take this back. I would love it if you could give this to me on all those important dates and moments so I know I have something amazing to look forward to.”

Marinette grinned, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Okay, minou. And if you ever want something to cheer you up, you are welcome to get what ever you want from there. Just let me know so I can watch you open it.”

“Thank you.” Adrien smiled back, placing his hand on hers. “Thank you for being you.”

#ml fanfiction #adrinette #adrinetteapril2021 #adrien x marinette

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part nineteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part nineteen: The Flagstaff Horse Fair is about to kick off, but not without a hitch. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Fortunate Son’ - Creedence Clearwater Revival, ‘Backwoods Company’ - The Wild Feathers. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Prepare for cuteness and a bit of angst! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @manawhaat and @winchest09 for helping me. I especially want to thank Kay, who has beta’d Ride from the very beginning, but needs to take a break from Tumblr to focus on school. I will miss her dearly, but I’m super thankful that Mana is willing to take over. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these.

Ride With Me Masterlist

With a black bumper-pull trailer in the rearview mirror, Dean’s beloved ‘67 El Camino rolls up Interstate 17. The windows are down, allowing the wind to wash in, like waves crashing onto the beach on a hot summer day, the cool air welcome and refreshing.

The Gold Canyon Ranch caravan left around three o’clock, the column of three pickups and trailers now heading towards Flagstaff, Arizona. Bobby and Jo lead the company in his powerful Ford with an impressive gooseneck in tow, which currently accommodates five horses. Benny follows in his four by four, with three horses on board another large trailer, facilitated with a small living quarters. Dean is the last wagon of the train, Meadow and one of his calmer geldings in the back, and Y/N beside him in the passenger seat.

The cowgirl is soaking up the scenery, the hills that flow next to the highway, the mountains in the distance, the blue sky above them. The tall saguaros that dominate the landscape at home are swapped for ponderosa pines, dusty desert for green grasslands. The forest is already beginning to change color, autumn painting deciduous trees in shades of yellow and orange. It’s remarkable how different her current surroundings are from the Phoenix area, only two and a half hours south.

With Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival playing on the old cassette deck of the classic car, Dean drums against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song. He absently hums along, mouthing a few words every now and then. When he glances aside, a small smile forms on his lips. The woman, who managed to calm him after the disturbing news Bobby delivered, is breathtaking without even trying. Loose strands of hair have escaped her ponytail and dance in the playful wind, her maya blue blouse fluttering against her Arizona sun-kissed skin. She looks at the world through her shaded Ray Bans, lost in thought and wonder.

He returns his gaze to the road as he reaches for her, laying his hand on her knee to get her attention, softly rubbing his thumb over the denim. Awoken from her daydream, she glances over, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she lays her hand over his, warmed by the touch.

“Nervous?” he wonders, dropping her hand just long enough to turn down the stereo before he laces their fingers together once again. “A little bit,” she confesses. “Don’t be. You’re gonna do fine,” he reassures. “Besides, your class ain’t till tomorrow.” “I’m not nervous about riding.” The wrangler moves his focus from the asphalt to his girlfriend. “What about then?” She’s quiet for a second. Shy, just like she was the first time they met. “Just… This is your scene. People know you, and I don’t know anyone.” He smirks, lightly. “Concerned about former flings?” The cowgirl shrugs, half admitting her insecurity. “Yankee, you have nothing to worry about. Hey…” He squeezes her hand, glancing over again. “I’m with you, okay?”

A smile breaks through the surface as Y/N glances at the handsome wrangler she gets to call hers, his green eyes making a silent promise. For a guy who claims not to be good with words, he’s doing a pretty great job. She takes a breath when he concentrates on the road again. “So, how are you going to introduce me?” she wonders. “As my girlfriend,” he returns, matter-of-factly, cool confidence sitting on the edge of his mouth. He honestly can’t wait to introduce her as his.

Y/N is unable to hide her contentment, the corners of her mouth creeping up further as she gets lost in the sight of him. There it is again; that tingly feeling, his confirmation breaking down the doubt bit by bit. “What about Bobby?” Y/N checks. “He still doesn’t know.” “Believe me, Bobby will be too busy strikin’ deals and sellin’ horses. He’s not gonna notice us,” Dean states, not concerned about his uncle. “It’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna have a blast, trust me.”

After shooting her that grin she’s loved from day one, he glances past the trucks and trailers in front of them. They drive by a large sign made from stone and wood, that says ‘1882 - Flagstaff, Arizona’, the city up ahead and Humphreys Peak in the backdrop. The caravan turns onto I-40 going west, before taking the exit a couple of miles later.

When they come over the hill, the competition grounds come into view. Flags reach skyward and wave proudly in the Western breeze, the stars and stripes alternating with the state flag of Arizona, the American Reining Horse Association, and many others. There’s the main arena, several training areas, stables, and amusement rides, complete with hundreds of trucks, trailers, and RV campers filling the fairgrounds. Observing the scene, it becomes clear to Y/N that this isn’t just a local show.

Dean was right, this is the perfect practice run for her and Meadow, but the sight of the large event has her stomach in knots. Right, those lovely performance nerves that never fail to torment her. She hopes she can survive tomorrow and still be able to eat without throwing up, because it wouldn’t be the first time that the highly strung feeling she experiences right before a ride has her physically sick.

The Gold Canyon Ranch caravan enters the show grounds, Bobby following the directions of the parking officer. After a short drive, they park the trailers next to each other on a large field, adding to the rows and rows of pickups, trailers, and even semi trucks with pop out living units. “I’ll check in with the stable manager,” Jo announces when they get out of the cars, heading over to the stable office to check which boxes are assigned to them.

Y/N picks her hat off the seat and pushes it on her head, leaving her shades on the dash now that she doesn’t need them anymore. She opens the hatch of the black trailer behind Dean’s Chevy, peeking inside. Meadow greets her with a slightly nervous neigh, eager to get out now that they’ve stopped moving. Lovingly, her rider pets her nose, trying to calm her a little, but the spirited mare begins to scrape her hoof on the rubber coated floor, nonetheless. “She okay?” Dean asks. “Yeah, she just wants to get off the trailer. I’m going to unload her, let her graze a little,” she says, attaching the leadrope to her halter. “Could you get the lid?”

The wrangler nods and walks around to the back, opening the latches as Y/N unties her horse. The cowgirl pushes the divider away and gently leads Meadow down the ramp. The beautiful bay Quarter Horse takes in her surroundings with large eyes, alert and ready for action, belting out another loud neigh to announce her arrival. She circles around her owner, who can’t help but laugh at her cocky attitude; she could have sworn her granddad bought her a mare, and not a stallion, even though Meadow behaves like one at times. Eventually she drops her head and cuts a few bites of grass, before pulling up her head again while chewing, staring at another animal in the distance.

“She really is a character, ain’t she?” Dean laughs, watching the pair. “Sure is,” her owner chuckles, rubbing the mare’s withers. “She knows it’s showtime. She can feel it.” Y/N crouches down to remove Meadow’s travel leg protection while Dean holds the feisty horse, glancing in the direction of the stable office, from which Jo returns. “Tent B. Box sixty-four to seventy-three,” the ranch owner’s daughter informs. “Let’s unload.”

Within thirty minutes the ten stables are ready, the heavy trunks installed, the tack rooms decorated and the horses unloaded. Y/N does her bit, rolling the wheel barrow from the truck to the stables with hay bails and wood shaving bedding, but it’s clear the Gold Canyon crew has taken this many horses to a competition before. Benny, Jo, Dean, and Bobby operate like a well-oiled machine, although the head of the ranch is moving a little bit slower these days.

Y/N tapes a form to the stable with Meadow’s name and an emergency phone number when Dean comes back from the water point, a full bucket in each hand. He and Benny have been going back and forth a couple of times now, supplying the ten horses. When the head wrangler walks by carrying the water, she’s distracted from the task at hand. Watching his shoulders work under his plaid shirt, she can’t help but get a little lost in the view. His biceps flex against the fabric, back strong and firm while he transports the heavy buckets with steady steps. God, he is good on the eyes.

“Are you gonna continue to drool over my cousin or are you gonna come with me to the show office to pay our fees?” Y/N’s eyes shift to Jo, who’s leaning against the stable door with her arms crossed in front of her chest and an amused smirk on her lips. Without a doubt, the blush that fires up her face is hard to miss. “Let me get my bag,” she says, straightening her back and turning to the head wrangler. “Dean, is the car still un--”

Before she can finish her sentence, her boyfriend has dug up the keys to the El Camino from his pocket and tosses them to her. Y/N catches them skillfully. “Awww, so you can read each other’s mind now, too?” Jo comments, earning a glare from Dean, causing her to shrug. “What? It’s dead cute!” “I’m not cute!” Dean counters, his face contorting as if she just called him something foul. “No, you’re a tough, manly man. We get it, Cowboy.” She passes him, patting his shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.” “You keep tellin’ yourself… somethin’,” he stammers, struggling to stand up to the reputation Jo is undermining.

She walks on, laughing, not even granting him another look. Bothered with his own unimpressive reply, the wrangler watches his cousin catch up with her father. God, sometimes he wishes he could shut her up without having to deal with her sassy attitude. Annoyed, he turns back to Y/N, who can’t hide her amusement as she steps closer. He eyes her, which only causes her to chuckle. “I’m not cute,” he underlines.

The cowgirl smirks and pushes him into the tack room, out of sight and safe from Bobby’s judgement. She takes his hat from his head and leans in, connecting her lips with his. The kiss is short and sweet, but it’s long enough to make Dean’s head spin. When she parts from him, he opens his eyes again, taking her in as she places his Stetson back over his tousled hair. “You’re adorable,” she says. Dean half pouts while furrowing his brow, still trying to establish that he is neither cute or adorable, but breaks character when his girlfriend smiles widely before she spins around. Fine, maybe he is turning a bit soft, but it’s all her doing.

Jo joins Y/N with her father’s wallet in hand, the two friends almost skipping to the exit of the stable, joking and laughing as they go. Dean watches the pair and shakes his head, not missing Benny’s wide grin coming his direction. The lovebirds might have stayed out of the ranch owner’s line of sight, however, Benny had a clear view of the endearing interaction. He’s leaning against a tack trunk, arms crossed in front of his broad chest, blue eyes sparkling with mischief and playful judgement that’s impossible to miss. “Get it over with,” the head wrangler mutters. “Got anything to add to that?” “Nah, I reckon the gals made their point,” the Southerner chuckles.

“So, you two are still doin’ good, huh?” Jo glances at Y/N from the corner of her eye while pushing her father’s wallet into her back pocket. She leans against Dean’s car, careful not to scratch it, knowing that all hell is going to break loose if she does. “Surprised?” her friend counters, picking up her bag from the front seat, before closing the door. “Just checkin’ if the woman-oholic isn’t suffering from tremors, hallucinations, insomnia,” the cowgirl states. Y/N grins at that, pushing the strap of her bag on her shoulder, ready for her friend to lead the way to the show office.

“He’s not, don’t worry,” she claims, very much aware that Jo is just toying with her. “He’s been really wonderful, actually. I honestly didn’t expect him to be so attentive and sweet.” “No one did. Hell, I don’t think even Dean knew he had it in ’im. Guess you bring out the best in my notorious cousin.” She hooks her arm around Y/N’s neck, pulling her in for a side hug.

On their way over to the show office, Jo is greeted by multiple familiar faces, asking her how she's doing and the ranch owner’s daughter returning the question in a quick exchange. It becomes clear to Y/N that this isn’t just Dean’s scene, but Jo’s as well.

She soaks up her surroundings, glancing left and right as they walk up a two story building, a little further up the slightly hilly property. Stalls are lined up along the boulevard, selling all sorts of things, from horse gear to fashion and interior design. It’s not incredibly busy yet, the people waiting in the short lines for the food stands mostly riders, trainers, and horse owners. The organisation is probably expecting a bigger crowd on the weekend.

A ferrier is hammering a loose shoe under a horse’s hoof, the large animal waiting patiently until the job is done, while a promoter tries to sell a new tractor to an interested party. Cheers roar from one of the arenas, excitement heard in the voice of the commentator, who echoes over the terrain through the speakers. The smell of cotton candy when they pass a concessions truck reaches the cowgirl’s nose as she watches children having fun riding a Shetland pony from the local riding school.

Content, Y/N smiles, because apart from the temperature, the atmosphere on this show isn’t different from the events she’s been to when she was still living in Freeport. The nerves she felt in the car earlier seep away with the familiarity, excitement taking its place. Before she came to Gold Canyon Ranch, she was buried under pressure and books, working on her thesis around the clock. The last competition she rode was the State Championships. God, she missed this circus. This life. This is where she belongs, not behind some desk, no matter how good the salary.

“Jo Singer, it’s good to see you again, my dear,” the woman behind the counter in the show office says, recognizing the blonde cowgirl instantly. “How are you and your family doing?” Reading glasses balance on the tip of the nose of the kind secretary, who smiles at both the girls. Her ash blonde hair is short, and worn in a fashion you would expect for a lady in her sixties. “Good to see you too, Mildred,” Jo returns, pulling Bobby’s wallet from her pocket. “We’re okay. How are the boys?”

Y/N glances at her friend from the corner of her eye as the two acquaintances make small talk. She noticed the hint of doubt in her claim that everything was fine with the Singer family, followed by the quick counter question to avert the attention back to the woman on the other side of the desk. Aware that the information Dean shared with her is confidential, she didn’t discuss it with Jo, even though she wanted to. While she didn’t want to get the head wrangler in trouble, she was also unaware of how up to date the youngest Singer actually is. Now that she heard the slight hesitation, however, she’s getting the idea Jo knows more about the ranch’s financial struggles than her bubbly and carefree personality leads on.

“How many horses are you competing, hon?” Mildred asks, pushing her glasses up her nose as she searches for Jo’s name on the competitors’ list. “Two. I’d like to pay for Dean as well, and one entry for my friend here. She’s riding one of ours.” “Winchester, right?” the secretary checks, crossing off names. Jo nods, picking at her father’s credit card. “Yeah.” Mildred flips the page until she finds the one on which the riders filed under the letter ‘W’ are listed. “Four horses for Dean? Your cousin has a busy weekend ahead of him,” she chuckles, warmly, and looks up at the young woman that accompanied Jo. “What’s your name, sweety?” “It’s Y/N L/N,” the intern answers. “I’m competing two horses, one of my own. I’d like to pay for Meadowsweet separately.” “Not a problem.” Mildred focuses on the blonde cowgirl again. “So that's an entry fee for seven horses, plus the stable fee for nine. Y’all brought two horses for auction, am I right? I remember because I had your father on the phone just this morning.” “Yeah, we do. Do we have to pay to enter the auction too?” Jo wonders, nervousness lacing her tone. “Yes, the auction entry is 200 dollars for each. After the sale the amount will be settled, together with the commission,” the elder woman informs. “Entry fee is three bucks per horse, stable fee is fifty each, so that will be 877 dollars in total.”

Jo takes a breath and offers Mildred the card. The normally confident cowgirl seems on edge all of a sudden as she watches the secretary swipe it. Several seconds tick by while they wait for the machine to accept payment, and apparently it’s getting on Jo’s nerves. Y/N’s friend fiddles with her father’s wallet, tension coming off her in waves. Then the machine bleeps, a long high tone cutting through the heavy silence.

Mildred looks up at the blonde rancher, sympathetically. It’s in her eyes and Jo’s heart drops to her gut before she even speaks. “I’m sorry. It’s declined.” “W - what? No, that - that can’t be,” Jo stammers. “Can you try again?” The kind lady swipes the credit card a second time, even though they know it’s not going to make a difference. The same message appears on the small screen, followed by the monotone beep. The sound is interrupted by the door opening and closing, two other competitors now entering the show office, getting in line to pay as well. Jo curses under her breath.

“Any other way you can pay, darling?” the secretary asks, kindly. “Uh - I have…” She leafs through the banknotes with trembling fingers, counting the money, her face turning red. “I have 300 dollars. I’ll check if there’s more in the truck--” “I got it.” Y/N steps closer to the counter, pulling her wallet from her purse. “What? No, c’mon,” Jo objects. But her friend isn’t taking no for an answer. “It’s not a problem. I’ll sort it out with your dad later,” she assures, handing over her own card. She returns her attention to Mildred again. “Could you add my fees as well?” “I sure can. That will be 930 dollars,” the elder woman states, changing the number on the terminal before swiping the credit card.

This time it beeps three times, confirming payment without a hitch. “Alright, all good to go. Good luck on your runs, ladies,” Mildred says, cheery, trying to clear the awkwardness with her warm smile. “Thank you,” Y/N returns genuinely as Jo gives the woman behind the desk a nod.

The girls exit the show office, Jo pulling her hat over her eyes a little deeper to mask her flustered face. The redness slowly starts to leave her cheeks again after a minute, as they walk down the boulevard in silence. Y/N isn’t sure if she should say something, and so decides to give her friend some space. Her mind is going over the incident, however. A maxed out credit card; that can’t be good. The writing on the wall is applied with a paintbrush, the black letter getting bolder the more she learns about the suffocating situation. Her mind hasn’t stopped reeling since her talk with Dean in the cafeteria earlier this morning. There has to be ways to tip the scale.

Jo eventually speaks up, voice clipped with embarrassment. “I’m sorry ‘bout that. My dad will pay you back.” “I know,” Y/N responds, not doubting it for a second. “It’s no big deal, seriously. No reason to apologize.” “Still... Thanks,” the blonde cowgirl utters, embarrassed nonetheless. It’s now Y/N’s turn to wrap her arm around her friend’s shoulder, hoping the gesture will ease Jo a bit. “That’s what friends are for, right?” she comforts her. “Come on. Let’s head back. What’s your starting time?” Jo glances at her watch. “Eight thirty. Thirty minutes after the opening. So that gives me an hour and a half.” “Better ready your horse then,” Y/N smiles. “You’ve got barrels to race.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome on this Friday night to the eighteenth annual Flagstaff Horse Fair!”

With Y/N’s hand in his, Dean walks up the bleachers, as if he’s afraid to lose her in the crowd. Plenty of people have settled down in their seats already, only a few spots left now that the opening ceremony is about to begin. She’s glad he’s keeping a hold on her, though, because once again she feels slightly overwhelmed by the number of strangers who all seem to be very much aware who her boyfriend is.

Several times Dean was held up on their way over to the main arena, by acquaintances, former and current clients, old friends and forgotten faces. She could tell he was doing everything he could to ease her nerves, his hand on the small of her back, engaging her into the conversation by introducing her. Yet she felt relieved when the ring came into view, hoping to find a time to take a breather from keeping up appearances and pretending she’s comfortable amongst new company.

“Dean!” Y/N almost flinches at the female voice calling out for the cowboy. For a brief second Y/N shuts her eyes and takes a breath; guess she needs to keep her mask on a bit longer. She turns to face two women, who greet the wrangler, the one with dark, boy cut hair the first to embrace him. “It’s so good to see you again,” she says, warmly. “Hey, Jody.” Dean returns the embrace, genuinely pleased to see her too, before he directs his attention to the happily smiling blonde. “Donna, it’s been a while. How are you doing these days?” “Hiya, handsome. I’m doing just fine, thanks.” The woman with a strong Minnesota accent pulls him into a tight hug as well, pressing her dimpled cheek against his. She backs away, her delighted eyes bouncing from him to the girl behind the cowboy. “Are ya gonna introduce us to this lovely lady?”

Dean adjusts his hat and reaches for Y/N, his hand slipping behind her back when he nods at the brunette. “That’s Jody Mills - she takes horses off our hands regularly and finds us buyers - and her business partner Donna Hanscum. Good friends of mine, good friends of the Ranch.” He then gently pulls her a little closer, the pads of his fingers lingering on her hip. “Jody, Donna, this is my girlfriend Y/N,” Dean responds, unable to hide his proud smile.

Both women share the exact same reaction, their jaws dropping to the floor. If Y/N wasn’t so nervous, she would have found it comical. “Shut the front door!” Donna exclaims. “Are you tellin’ me that Dean Winchester is off the market?” Dean nods, his grin not faltering. “I’m spoken for.” Delighted, Jody laughs. “Well, I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.” “Took you long enough,” Donna jokes, teasingly pushing his shoulder, before she winks at the cowgirl next to him. “You must be one heck of a gal if you managed to tie this one down. C’mere!”

Before Y/N can escape, the woman with the vibrant personality pulls her in and gives her a warm hug as well. She can’t help but to chuckle, because both Donna and Jody seem like sincerely kind people. The warm welcome eases her, helping her to feel more comfortable amongst these new friends. “Why don’t you sit with us?” Jody suggests, after Donna lets go. “Because I wanna hear all about this miracle woman.”

They take a seat and Y/N soon engages in conversation with Dean’s friends. Contently, he watches his girl, listening to her enthusiastic voice as she tells them about their meet cute. Dean chuckles at the memory himself; never in a million years could he have guessed he would be where he’s standing now, together with the then so timid and slightly prissy intern. She opened up like a wildflower in spring, blossoming into the carefree spirit that years of studying and discipline hid away.

Damn, he fell hard for her, didn’t he? She isn’t the only one who developed; because Jody wasn’t wrong. He too never expected to be able to commit, to be faithful to one woman, yet he can’t even imagine being with anyone else but her now. She taught him to look further than tomorrow. He has to admit, he has been thinking about the future more in the past week than he has in all the prior years combined. His thoughts are interrupted by the commentator, who’s voice echoes through the speakers, mentioning the sponsors of the event.

“We thank you for comin’ out here this weekend. Folks, right now I would like to ask Alex Jones to enter our arena floor with the Stars and Stripes of the United States of America.”

Dean glances at Jody, who proudly watches her adopted daughter trot into the ring on a palomino. She’s dressed in a red shirt, blue and white fringe on her sleeves and chaps playfully dancing in the breeze. The end of the flagpole rests on her stirrup, the American colors fluttering in their wake. The crowd rises to their feet as the flag is carried in, respectfully doffing their hats.

“As we gather in the spirit of the Old West, let us be reminded of the part that the horses we cherish have played. They offered our forefathers safe travel, partnership, and the freedom to roam this great land. The same unbreakable bond between man and horse still remains today, as we ride for our country. We ask you to remain standing for the playing of the national anthem.”

Y/N holds her hat by the brim and squares her shoulders, following Dean’s example when he places his right hand over his heart. A calm falls over the bleachers, every single soul watching the flag with the same steady reverence that only blue-collars truly can. The riders in the warm up area are standing side by side, facing the Stars and Stripes, and even the younger inexperienced horses seem to pay their respect.

“Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?”

The hairs on her arms rise up as Y/N softly sings along. She knows every word, taught in school of course, but it’s more than that. She believes them. And since she was a little girl, she has dreamed about the Star-Spangled Banner. She imagined it would play while she was standing on the highest step of the podium at the major events: Congress, the Derby, and who knows, maybe one day at the World Equestrian Games. It’s a long shot, maybe, but a goal nonetheless, one she will continue to chase until the day comes that she fulfills that dream.

“And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”

The cowgirl and her horse began circling as the end of the anthem neared, speed increasing. Alex is galloping along the boarding of the arena, the Stars and Stripes flaunting proudly, standing tall. After the last note, the crowd cheers and claps, rallying the rider on as she takes the flag out of the arena at high speed.

“Give it up for Alex Jones!” the commentator encourages. “Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, get comfortable, take a load off your feet, take a seat, and get ready. We’re gonna kick off the competition with Barrel Racing for three year old horses. Let’s ride!”

“Jo is sixth, right?” Y/N checks as they sit down. Dean nods, leaning his elbows on his knees, watching his cousin in the warm up pen. “Yeah, after the drag.” “Smooth footing. Could work in her advantage,” Y/N notes, linking her arm with his. “I was wondering; why don’t you teach Jo?” The wrangler snorts. “Because she would claw my eyes out.” His girlfriend laughs now, leaning into him and sweetly resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Hey, we’ve tried, but we just fight like cats and dogs. It ain’t a good fit,” he chuckles.

The first horse and rider combination shoots from the holding box and the audience’s motivating cheers rise from the stands into the Arizona air. Being a good sport, Dean claps too. “Ever raced barrel, sweetcheeks?” Donna wonders, leaning forward to make eye contact with Y/N. “Once or twice when I was a kid,” she admits. “You?” “Oh, you betcha!” the cheery blonde states.

The rules to the game are quite simple. Three barrels are set up in a cloverleaf in the arena and the horse and rider pair need to cleanly negotiate the pattern. The cowgirl who’s the fastest without knocking over any barrels wins. It’s a thrilling sport to watch, perfect for a horse’s speed and agility when the rider knows how to bring it out in them.

The second rider kicks off, setting a better time that pushes her up the board. The third follows, knocking over the second barrel, landing the poor girl a five second time penalty.

Y/N keeps an eye on Jo, who gets instructions from Bobby. The ranch owner’s daughter is riding a mare called Sundance, who she started up about eight months ago, being the first person to ever ride her. The young horse had her first practise run a couple of weeks ago, but today is her show debut. The atmosphere of a big competition like this can be quite daunting for an inexperienced horse, but Jo prepared her well.

The fourth goes wide around the first barrel and swerves to the third, wasting valuable time. Number five has a clean run and betters the leading result; 17.13 seconds is the time to beat. A tractor enters the arena and the crew removes the barrels, white spray paint indicating where they need to be put back once the sand around it is dragged. When the footing is smooth again, the barrels are placed back.

“Next up is Joanna Beth Singer with Sundance. Now, this young lady knows how to ride, with multiple wins under her belt, so let’s see what she will do with this youngster today.”

Y/N moves to the edge of her seat, her heartbeat picking up. She might not be the one competing, but sometimes being the person on the sidelines is more nerve-wracking than actually being the one in the saddle. Bobby walks with his daughter to the entrance of the arena, the young mare next to him already bouncing with excitement. Rousing music only adds to the exhilarating atmosphere surrounding them, the spectators waiting for the thrilling ride that is about to start. The second Jo’s father lets go of the rein, Sundance bolts away, locking on the first barrel like she has been doing this all her life.

“And she’s off! Look at that speed, people!”

“C’mon, Jo!” Y/N encourages, joined by Dean, who has gotten on his feet in anticipation. The crowd cheers when the fast horse turns sharply. Focused, Jo pushes her heels into the bay’s flanks, hands towards the mare’s ears, guiding the youngster through the pattern to the second barrel. They are making good time. “Smoke them, Jo! You got this!” Dean shouts, voice lost to the crowd that seems to favor Jo and Sundance.

The clock ticks; eight seconds, nine, ten. Sand clatters against the metal as the eager horse cuts the third obstacle, so tight that you could barely fit a piece of paper between her boot and the barrel. It starts to tip, and Y/N grabs Dean’s arm when the drum almost tumbles over, but Jo pushes it back with her reins in hand so that it stays upright and the audience erupts.

“Yeah! Bring it home!” Y/N squeals, excitedly. At full gallop the two shoot back to the gate, Jo flat on the Sundance’s neck, the energetic horse accelerating until they pass the finish line. The clock stops at 16.35.

“Folks, if that ain’t horsemanship, I don’t know what is. What a ride and what a horse! Jo Singer and Sundance are in the lead!”

Dean grins proudly and whistles on his fingers, glancing down at his girlfriend, who is still applauding excitedly. “Dean, is that mare for sale?” Jody checks, the trader clearly interested now that she has witnessed the talent. He chuckles. “Depends on your offer.” “Fair enough. I’ll go have a talk with Bobby then,” she returns, aware that for a horse like that, she needs to raise the stakes. “We’ll walk with ya,” Dean states, glancing aside when Jody’s friend doesn’t follow. “Donna, you comin’?” “I’ll meetcha guys later. I’m gonna watch some more runs with Alex.” She nods at Jody’s surrogate daughter, who just sat down in one of the first rows.

They say goodbye and the wrangler places his hand on Y/N’s lower back as they walk to the stairs and get down from the bleachers. She can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but she senses his relief. Jo delivered and just secured more than just a place on the podium with that solid ride. The buyers are going to be lining up for Sundance, which means they can keep the price high. It’s a win Gold Canyon Ranch so desperately needs. The cowgirl bumps her shoulder against his, drawing his attention. The smiles they exchange say enough, she knows what’s on his mind, and he knows she understands. “I’m gonna see if I can catch Jo. It was really nice to meet you, Jody,” she announces, shaking Jody’s hand before turning to Dean. “See you in a bit?” He nods and meets her in a sweet, short kiss, before she runs off to the stables. His gaze stays fixed on her, lovingly, until he loses track of her in the crowd. Only then does Dean notice Jody’s knowing smirk. “What?” “You got it bad,” she comments, an earnest laugh falling from her lips. He tilts his head, nodding; there’s no denying it. He’s known Jody for a while, and even though they only see eachother every now and then, he considers her a dear friend.

“She’s amazing, really. It’s all still kinda new, though,” he admits, comfortable enough to let some of that softness show. “Oh, which reminds me... Bobby doesn’t know yet. So could you not mention it?” The raised eyebrow and judgemental look she sends him says enough. Jody stares him down as if she’s about to use her mom-voice, causing Dean to slightly cower. “She’s the intern and it’s kind of a touchy subject. I wanna time it well so that he doesn’t bite my head off,” the cowboy excuses. The woman who is tough when she needs to be, turns soft now, rolling her eyes slightly. “Fine, I won’t tell him. Don’t wait too long, though. It’s Bobby, he wasn’t born yesterday. He’s going to find out sooner than later,” she reminds him. “I’ll tell him soon,” he promises. “This is a big first for you, ain’t it?” The female ranch owner smiles at him warmly, apparently amused with the somewhat uneasy behavior of the cowboy. “It is,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s good. Never thought I’d say it, but I could get used to this.” “I’m glad you’ve met someone, Dean. You deserve a slice of that apple pie life.”

Dean smiles at his boots, knowing she means more with those words than would seem so at the surface. From a young age, even before Dean moved in with the Singer family, she has kept a watchful eye on him and his little brother whenever they were at the same shows and rodeos. Even though she’s only a few years older than him, she was always taking care of others, protecting those who needed it, and apparently she sensed the Winchester boys could use some support. To be honest, she wasn’t wrong. She has seen a few things, picked up on the tell signs. That knowledge adds to the weight of her kind message.

“And if you ever are in the need of advice only a woman can offer,” she continues, “may it be suitable birthday gifts for the lady, or choosing an engagement ring, you know who to call.”

Dean’s eyes widen, glancing aside at the fierce woman, walking beside him. He thought about what is to come, but he didn’t think that far ahead. Especially with her internship ending March next year, he’s slightly careful to presume she is going to want to stay with him. Yes, he will fight for her, but he can’t predict the future. Who knows what will happen when she’s due to leave. “Whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” he laughs. “We only just started dating, y’know?” “Yeah, I know, but she’s a keeper, I can tell,” Jody counters, sure of herself. “Give it some time, I’ll remind you of this conversation at your wedding.”

The cowboy chuckles, but doesn’t contradict her. Jody Mills is a smart woman, one who usually is right. She can read people, and despite the small age difference between the two of them, his caring friend often mothers him with her wisdom. He can’t believe the thought crosses his mind, but it flashes through his conscience nonetheless. I hope she’s right.

He doesn’t want to dwell on it too long, though, because the glimpse of what he secretly hopes one day will come true, takes him by surprise. Somewhat daunted, the wrangler redirects the focus. “I’ve haven’t spoken to Gabe in a bit. How’s he doin’ these days?”

There’s a hint of guilt in his voice, even though he tries to suppress it. Gabriel had worked at Gold Canyon since 2005, until Bobby had to let him go last year. The head wrangler felt horrible, especially since he taught Gabe the ropes when it came down to training horses, and getting fired was the last thing his friend ever expected. Just like with Ash, he would have done anything to prevent the lay off, but their boss didn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully, Gabe got a job as a horse trainer at Jody’s ranch. They kept in touch, but over time the calls came and went less frequent. Lately, it’s been quiet, though, and the woman next to him looks up at him stunned, a mixture of remorse and empathy in her eyes.

“You haven’t heard?” she asks, appalled. Dean shakes his head. “Heard what?” “Oh, honey, I’m not sure how to tell you this,” she starts, averting her gaze to the ground, as if she’s trying to find solace in the dirt underneath her feet. “He had an accident earlier this week. He’s in hospital.” The wrangler snaps his eyes at her in shock, a frown puckered between his brows. “W-what?” “Yeah, he--” she pauses, shaking her head as if she still can’t believe it, “- he was working with a stallion, quite a special case. He turned aggressive and Gabe got trampled. He suffered multiple fractures in the vertebrae.” The head wrangler stops dead in his tracks, causing his company to turn to face him. In shock he stares at Jody before his gaze drifts off, the unpleasant surprise still evident, though. Not sure what to say, he moves his hand to his face, tracing his stubble as he tries to digest the news. “Fuck…” he stammers. “Is he - he’s gonna be ok, right?”

“The doctors haven’t given us much yet. From what I’ve heard, the first tests showed very little reflexes, but there was still a lot of bruising and swelling. They hope to be able to get better imaging soon, but right now it’s not looking good. He most likely damaged his spinal cord; he can’t move his legs,” Jody explains, observing the disoriented man before her with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Dean. I know he is a friend of yours. Honestly, I expected you would’ve gotten a call from his brothers.”

The cowboy still stares at nothing in particular, unable to grasp what he just learned. “We - uh, we didn’t talk as much as we used to. Kinda fell out of touch after he left Gold Canyon.” Jody nods at that, the endearing smile that was there when they were talking about his newfound relationship now gone. The corners of her mouth are drawn down, the worry and guilt aging her in a matter of moments. “It’s really tragic. Honestly, I feel awful. It happened on my land, the horse was my client’s.” “Hey, this is not your fault, you hear?” Dean replies, gently gripping her upper arm. “These accidents can happen. We forget sometimes, but we still work with thousand pound animals who have minds of their own. It’s dangerous, and he knew that.”

Jody swallows down the guilt and turns to slowly stroll to the warm up area, not walking away from it entirely, but giving herself something to do. Dean adjusts to her pace, shoulder to shoulder with the rancher. “I found him in the pen. He was screaming in pain,” she tells. “Of course I happened to be the only other person on the premises. Donna was delivering a horse to a new owner.”

Shaking his head, Dean glances aside. Damn it, he wishes she didn’t have to go through that. Waiting on an ambulance must have been horrible. Dean knows Jody treats her staff like family, their bond much like the dynamic between the Singer family and their personnel. Dean cares about those he works with deeply, he would never forgive himself if an accident like that would happen to a member of the crew. “He’s gonna bounce back. Gabe’s a tough one,” he soothes, hoping to offer at least a little comfort. “Yeah, I hope so.” She sighs as they reach Bobby, who is having a conversation with two older men on the sideline, without a doubt doing business. “I’m gonna talk to your uncle. See if we can come to an agreement on that horse.” “Better get in there fast, before he sells her to someone else,” Dean advises, after which he turns around. “See you at the party tonight?” “Depends on how much money I spend at the auction, but I’m certain Donna will drag me there anyway,” she says, doing her best to pull together a playful grin.

Dean watches Jody step up, politely interrupting the negotiation, not even a bit intimidated by the possible buyers who have already named a price. She’s tough, something that he has always admired. The woman stands her ground in a man’s world of horse traders, runs her own ranch and built her own network. An extraordinary person, who always has his back. He carries nothing but respect for her.

As he makes his way to the stables, tipping his head to the people he knows on his way over, his thoughts go to Gabriel. Jody is not the only one who feels guilty about his current condition. He just told her she shouldn’t blame herself, so why is it that he wishes he would never have let his good friend go? Maybe if Gabe had stayed, he wouldn’t have broken his back. Maybe if he had taught him better, he would’ve still been able to walk.

He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the notion. But like a mosquito the mental picture keeps patronising him, buzzing into his ear, draining him and stealing the wrangler’s peace. When he nears the stable tent B, he picks up pace, however. Because he knows that the one person who will calm his mind and make him feel better with just her smile is right around the corner.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty here

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a-dorin · 6 years ago

Text

the project - peter parker

word count: 3,263

*disclaimer* this is a smut but both characters are consenting & of age.

******

the class groaned, and you turned around to your best friend, nova, "how fucking lame."

she winked at you, "it'll be fun."

peter was guarded. extremely guarded. his awkward demeanor didn't help at all. anytime you asked him the simplest question, he got flustered, red-faced and stuttered. part of you wondered if it was because he just wasn't a people person, or if it was because he liked you. both of you guys had made small exchanges since that encounter, whether it was greeting one another in the hallway, sharing a seat on a bus ride, or giving one another snacks in class. since m.j. was within your friend group, you did get to see peter some, as they were mutual friends.