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mack-devereaux · 1 year

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Comfort

Vince Dunn

Authors note: Vince is my comfort player. I love him. So it’s only fitting that I write about him in a comfort fic. No clue on word count. Pictures are from Pinterest. I think the only trigger is like 3 curse words? And a little bit of angst, just a tiny bit.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~

Isn’t it strange? There are so many people out there who secretly love someone. And yet there are so many people who have no idea that someone secretly loves them.

~~~~~~

Vince was new to Seattle. He had just gotten traded, he knew it was coming, but yet he wasn’t prepared for how much of a difference it would be. In St. Louis he had his friends. But here, he was so new he didn’t have friends yet and with his family in Canada he was struggling trying to settle in. He just wanted someone to talk to and hang out with. His floor in his apartment complex was very quiet, as far as he knew there were only two tenants, him and a very very quiet person, as far as the other rooms, they were used for storage. He never saw his neighbor nor had he heard them when they came and went. Until today that is, he was texting on his phone while walking down the hallway when all of a sudden something, or someone, smacked right into his chest.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention I—“ the cute blonde stopped speaking immediately when she looked at him “wow your eyes are really pretty.” Vince grinned. Kinda taken aback by the chatty girl. “Oh I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m sorry, I’ll pay more attention next time” the girl stuttered.

“It’s really not a big deal. I’m Vince” he stuck out his hand. The girl took his hand and she swore electricity shot up her arm. “Y/n” she smiled dropping her hand and reaching for her apartment keys.

“Well for the record y/n you have very beautiful eyes as well” he added with a wink and a panty dropping smile. He felt an odd sense of calm and peace when they touched hands. “Do you flirt with all your neighbors Dunner?” She asked.

“Wait how do you—“ his eyebrows pinched together, she knew who he was.

“I work for the Kraken sometimes. I’m one of the extra medics they call in when you guys get too crazy out there. It’s my job to know who you guys are. But you should get going before you’re late to training” she leaned into her doorway of her apartment.

“Shit, yea. Well I guess I will see you around then, don’t be a stranger. You can come hang out anytime, I’m only a door away” he smiled and started to walk down the hall to go to the gym. Looking back over his shoulder he noticed her watching him “you too Vince”.

*a few weeks later*

Y/n was sitting on her couch alone, only because Vince was out of town on a roadie. She didn’t realize how much she had gotten used to his presence until he was gone. Literally. He was constantly in her apartment, and if he wasn’t at her place she was at his. At this point they were the equivalent to roommates. Vince tried to convince himself it was because he felt calm and peace around her, not that he had a massive crush on her. He made the mistake of telling his friend Sam about her and he hasn’t heard the end of it.

Y/n wasn’t mad about constantly having the cute hockey player in her apartment over the last few weeks, however she did wish he gave some heads up when he came over though. There’s been many times he just barged in when she was looking like a mess or had just crawled out of bed with her hair everywhere. He claimed it was a cute look for her but she was still mortified. He was like sex on legs, he constantly looked amazing. Between his dark curls and his bright green eyes she knew she was fucked. Plus his constant flirting and the need for physical touch was not helping her case. She quickly picked up that physical touch was how he needed reassurance. He always mentioned how she kept him grounded and not in his head, she took that as a huge compliment, he didn’t seem like the type to let people in very easily.

Her phone vibrated on the table, bringing her out of her trance she had fallen into, she reached out and saw a text from Vince.

From Dunner 😈:

Hey babygirl, you able to talk?

Babygirl, the name he called her when it was just them, she loved it. It often became Babe around his friends and teammates. But she wasn’t mad about that nickname either. She hit the call button and waited for him to answer.

“Someone’s impatient” she rolled her eyes when he answered.

“You’re the one who texted me, I figured it would be a waste of time by texting you, just to have you call me” y/n explained.

“That’s fair. What are you up to?” He said, he sounded tired.

“Laying on my couch” y/n said.

“Sexy, what are you wearing” he smiled.

“Vince” she rolled her eyes “don’t make it weird.”

He laughed “come on babygirl live a little, I know you’re wearing my shirt.”

Glancing down she scoffed “no I’m not” yes she was, “How was your game” she quickly changed subjects.

“I knew it” he grinned biting his lip. He loved when she wore his clothes. “It was good, did you watch?”

“I always do” she sighed “when do you come back?”

“I knew you missed me” he chirped.

“Quit teasing me or I will hang up” she pouted. Messing with the hem of the worn out shirt.

“No you won’t, you miss me too much. But I’ll be back in a few days babe” he yawned.

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon” she said also yawning.

“You should stay up, I wanna keep flirting with you” he whined.

“You’re ridiculous” she laughed.

“You never flirt back, it’s boring” he said.

“Umm yes I do, you’re just super attractive and it makes me nervous to flirt with you too much, I never know when you’re being serious” she laughed.

“I’m always serious babe” he said, after a note of silence on her end he added “get some sleep, I’ll talk to you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, goodnight Vince.”

As y/n hung up he looked at his lock screen photo of them. They were out at a club with the team, she was in a dark blue dress and he was wearing a black t shirt and dark jeans. She was sitting on his lap with his arm around her back and they were taking selfies. He had just touched her exposed shoulder with his cold beer bottle when she jumped. Then he snapped a photo of them mid laugh. It was his favorite picture of them. For as much as he teased her about her missing him, he was certain he missed her way more. Being away from her was weird. Especially since they had only met a short while ago. He’s never clicked with someone this quick before. He didn’t know what to make of it. His friend Sam had tried giving him advice on asking her out but he wasn’t sure how she felt about the situation. A text came through bringing him back to reality.

From Babygirl 🥵:

Goodnight 💕

To Babygirl 🥵:

Goodnight babe

~~~~~~

We looked at each other just a little too long to be just friends.

~~~~~~

*a few weeks later*

Y/n was adding some final touches to her makeup before she heard her door unlock.

“I’m coming!“ she shouted as she grabbed a hair tie to throw on her wrist. She walked out into the living room seeing Vince drop his duffel bag by the door, he was wearing a dark game day suit and his curls were styled perfectly. It’s a shame that hair will be covered by a helmet soon. Damn he looked good.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Yeah, just let me grab a few things,” she grabbed her purse and her water bottle. She was going to the game tonight because they were playing the Canucks, the Kraken tend to get a little rough with each other when they played teams close to them. Mainly because the crowd was always intense and got the energy going in the arena. So naturally Vince had convinced her to carpool with him, with games like this he always got a little hotheaded. Just having y/n around him seemed to keep him calm. Which he would need after tonight’s match up with their Canadian neighbors. She was his first friend here, and somehow between the late night talks and flirting he had fallen for her. Even some of the teammates had noticed how he kept her close to him, literally and figuratively. Little did he know that she had fallen for him too. How could she not. The two of them just fit so perfectly together. The drive to the game was filled with flirty banter and small talk.

~~~

The game was a bloodbath. Penalties were called left and right. Players were coming off the ice like crazy with cuts and bloody noses and injuries constantly. It was a good thing they called in backup, which they definitely utilized. She was right behind the players bench watching everyone with such intensity, even the other team. The end of the second period was nearing, she couldn’t wait for the team to have an intermission to cool down. The energy in the arena was out of this world. She had been to plenty of games before, but none had been this intense.

Then it happened, gloves came off and it was a blur of blue and white wrestling on the ice, punches and insults thrown around like nothing. She forgot how to breathe once she realized it was Vince who was fighting. As a medic she was used to blood, especially at the hockey games, it never bothered her but it was different seeing Vince bloody. She wasn’t sure how long they had been fighting. After what felt like a lifetime the refs finally ripped the players apart. Vince immediately going towards the bench, he was yelling. The teams physician pulling him to the side and down the tunnel checking for any major injuries. They had moved so fast it didn’t register to y/n that they were halfway to the locker room already.

“No, I want y/n! Please!“ Vince shouted. Y/n snapping out of her frozen stance she followed the physician down the tunnel and into the locker room where she heard him shouting. As she turned the corner she immediately went for gloves and gauze. Throwing her hair up in a bun the physician was explaining what she needed to do, he had his hands full with this game, she was happy to help but still in shock that Vince was the one she was tending to. “No concussion, but we need the cut on his lip and cheek cleaned up and check his teeth for any other bleeding. He’ll return for the 3rd period. When you’re done with him send him where the rest of the team is. Oh and check his shoulder too, he took a nasty hit.”

“Yep. Got it” she said as she was washing her hands and putting gloves on to look at his face. As she stepped in front of Vince she grabbed his face gently making him look at her, still in shock over what she had witnessed. Yes she knew hockey was a violent sport. Yes she knew there were lots of injuries. But seeing Vince get hurt and in a fight was something she wasn’t prepared for. He was breathing hard, still pissed off about the call and the fight. But as soon as y/n was in front of him he felt better. She was explaining what she was doing, and asking permission to clean him up. He wasn’t listening, he knew she had to do that for her job. He leaned forward and just hugged her waist, leaning his head into her side, not saying anything. His breathing still heavy but starting to even out.

“Vince, I need to clean that cut,” y/n sighed.

“Y/n please. I need to calm down. Just—Please.” He was wound up, he tried to keep his voice level, not wanting her to hear him yell. So she let him, his sweat and probably blood going on her shirt. She just stood there and rubbed his back, well she tried to rub his back. It was hard with all the pads and gear on. After about 5 minutes of him just hugging her he finally pulled away. She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him, he nodded to her and she started looking at his injuries. He never looked away from her face. He notices the grey swirls in her eyes, she was holding back tears, the long black lashes, the freckles lightly dotting across her nose.

The cuts weren’t bad, and his shoulder was fine. Relief flooded her, when she was done she took her gloves off and threw everything away, “Vince, are you ok” she said looking at him. He was already looking at her.

“I’m ok” he breathed out “thank you baby girl.” He stood up and kissed her on the forehead, letting his lips stay there for a second longer than he should have, and walked to where the rest of his team was. She let out a huge sigh and sat down. After a minute she walked back to the bench for the last period.

The game ended in overtime with the Kraken winning. Y/n was charting and filling out paperwork when the team was finishing up post game interviews and showers. Vince walked around the corner to meet y/n by the team parking, and they walked together to his car. Once in the car Vince’s hand soon found its way to y/ns thigh, still needing some sort of comfort from her, she set her hand on top of his and intertwined their fingers. They said nothing the entire way home. Not even as he grabbed her hand and walked past her door straight to his apartment. It was rare that he was this quiet after games. They always fell so easy into conversations, but she didn’t dare speak first this time. She sat on the couch as he went into his room to change. After a few minutes he came out and handed her one of his old shirts, she walked to the bathroom to change. She grinned once she saw it was her favorite shirt of his, a very worn out hockey shirt from when he played for the Icedogs in his OHL days. It fell to her mid thigh, which was fine, she normally wore boy short underwear so she wasn’t super uncomfortable in just the shirt.

As she walked out of the bathroom she saw him in the kitchen. His sweatpants hanging low on his hips. She could see the tension in his back muscles still. She walked up to him and just hugged him from behind, even though he towered over her. He turned around and lifted her up to where she was sitting on the counter and his hands were on either side of her legs. They stared at each other for a minute. Y/n reached out to brush his curls off his forehead. He leaned into her touch and as she went to grab the side of his face he grabbed her hand a kissed the back of it.

“Y/n. I am sorry for what happened earlier.”

“Vince, I’ve seen you fight before it’s not a big deal, I just panicked for a second when I saw that you were the one hurt, and with everyone screaming that loud in there I just shut down.“

“ No, let me finish please.” He sighed, “it’s not that. I—fuck. He made a comment about you and it set me off. Y/n you give me a sense of calm that I’ve never had before. I’m pretty hotheaded and get worked up pretty easy out there. You’re the only thing that can calm me down, and that terrifies me. Every time I’m around you I just feel peace, and comfort. I’m not sure how to explain it, and I know it sounds dumb but I just need you to stay with me.”

“Vince I’m not leaving, you make me feel the same. I’m not sure when it happened for me either but everything is easy with you. I don’t want it to stop” Y/n said.

“Can we go to bed then? Just relax for the night?” Vince looked at her.

“Yes.”

#nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagines #vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #seattle kraken

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 15

I am seriously enjoying how much you all love my Mrs Harrington. She is so fun to write. And while we aren’t there yet, she absolutely will go for Mr Harrington’s jugular. She’s been building a case for five years. She’s going to bury him. :D

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

***

Steve sat at the fanciest restaurant in town in just his jeans and a polo shirt. He felt a little out of place, but he knew if it really bothered him, he could change in the restroom.

“I’m sorry, Steven,” Mrs Harrington began. “I had been finding out so many horrible things about your father over the last few years and to learn that he kept your injuries from me as well? That was the final straw.”

Steve grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t know either. I think he was trying to keep us apart.”

Mrs Harrington sighed. “You’re probably right. Because if we compared notes...” she trailed off.

“Then we would be able figure out what a douchebag he was sooner,” Steve agreed.

Mrs Harrington laughed. “So your father was telling me you were seeing someone new.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, it’s very new. We went to a concert in Indy last weekend and ended up realizing we both felt that same.”

“That’s so sweet,” Mrs Harrington cooed. “What’s her name?” Steve blushed harder and deeper and she cocked her head knowingly. “Or his?”

Steve’s head shot up and his jaw dropped. “What?”

She covered his hand with her other hand. “Darling, your father might be an ignoramus but I am not. I was one the few DAs in the state that were fighting to get rid of the sodomy laws in Indiana.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Plus you clearly had a crush on John Travolta.”

Steve sputtered. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Mrs Harrington said. “You had to have your hair just like his in that musical he did with Olivia Newton John.”

“Oh god,” Steve muttered. “I do remember that. And here I was thinking it was a new thing. Something that only came about because of him.”

Mrs Harrington smiled warmly at her son. “Tell me all about this boy.”

And so Steve did.

“He sounds wonderful my darling,” she said once he was done. “Would you have gone to his house tonight if I hadn’t joined you?”

Steve nodded. “Or my best friend Robin.”

“Boy or girl?” Mrs Harrington asked.

And so Steve launched into Robin, which of course led to the kids and then still being friends with Nancy and Jonathan.

“Sounds like you were building a life for yourself,” she said gently, “while I was building a divorce case against your father. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, love. But I promise to be from now on.”

Steve nodded, fighting back tears. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

They finished their dinner and Mrs Harrington paid the bill. “Do you mind if I borrow your car for tonight until I can get mine out of storage tomorrow?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t work tomorrow so that should be fine.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Where would you prefer I drop you off, Eddie’s or Robin’s?”

Steve blushed. “Would–would you like to meet Eddie?”

“Yes!” she said jumping up and down. “Of course I would!”

Steve jutted his thumb at the payphones. “I’m going to call him so you don’t give him a heart attack.”

“Fair enough.”

Steve waited as the phone rang, his heart in his hand. His mom wanted to meet his boyfriend.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asked.

“Stevie!” Eddie greeted. “Hey, you need me to come get you?”

“No, but I will need a place to stay,” Steve explained. “Can I stay at yours?”

“Of course you can,” Eddie agreed. “I’ll just make the bed in the spare room.” He paused for a second. “Steve...I have a spare room...”

Steve’s heart soared. “Yes, you do, babe.” He chuckled when he heard his boyfriend giggle on the other end. “Uh...there is one thing you should know before I get there though.”

“What that, sweetheart?”

“He kicked both of us out,” Steve whispered.

“Both?” Eddie asked. “...Your mom, too?”

Steve nodded even though he knew Eddie couldn’t see. “Yeah, um... apparently he didn’t tell her all the times I got hurt.”

“Holy shit. Does she need some place to stay too? I mean you can share my bed and she can have the spare room.”

“That’s sweet of you, Eds,” Steve said. “But she has some place to stay. She had been planning on divorcing my dad for a while so...because she’s Allison Harrington she had a escape route ready.”

“Wow.”

Steve took a deep breath and let out slow.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Eddie asked. “Are you okay?”

“She wants to meet my boyfriend.”

There was silence on the line for so long that Steve worried the line went dead. “Eddie?” he said, his voice starting to quiver.

“Boyfriend,” Eddie repeated. “She knows it’s a boy?”

“Yeah, she guessed when I told her I was seeing someone,” Steve admitted shyly.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed. “And you told her about me?”

“Of course I did,” Steve said with a sigh of relief. “So would it be okay if you met her?”

“Yes!” Eddie said. “Of course, Stevie.”

“I’ll be there soon, love,” Steve said.

“Bye, babe.”

Steve hung up the phone and went out to meet his mom.

She cupped his cheek. “Everything all right, sweetie?”

Steve nodded. “It was just a shock. When I speak of you and dad, it’s, it’s not...”

“Flattering?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “I mean it’s most Dad and I did use you as a reference for both my jobs, but...”

“But I haven’t been around.”

“Yeah.” Steve hung his head.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “I understand. Besides it’ll be more fun this way.”

Steve looked up at her in confusion.

“I get to surprise them!” she said gleefully.

Steve laughed. “You’ll certainly do that.”

The drive to the Munsons’ new house was filled with laughter and stories.

“He thought it was a regular dog,” Steve was saying. “Until it ate his cat.”

“Oh no!” Mrs Harrington said through her giggles. “That poor cat.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, a bright smile on his face when they pulled up to the house.

“There’s going to be boxes and shit everywhere because they’re still moving in,” he warned her as they got his luggage out of the trunk.

She smiled brightly. “I’m in no place to judge anyone’s housekeeping. As they have one and I don’t. Well, not yet anyway.”

They walked up to the door and knocked.

Uncle Wayne opened the door. “Won’t you come in?” As he led them to the front room, he called, “Eddie! Your boy is here!”

Steve blushed. Apparently Eddie had already told him about his mom knowing about them.

Eddie came thundering down the stairs. He had clearly put some effort into his appearance. His hair was a little damp from a shower and his clothes were clean. He still wore his ripped jeans and the band t-shirt from last weekend. His feet were barefoot but it was his own house.

“Stevie!” Eddie said happily as he bounded into the room.

Steve went over and picked up his boyfriend and spun him around. Eddie giggled.

“Put me down!” Eddie shrieked.

Steve let him slide down in his arms and gave him a deep kiss. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured and kissed him softly. “Do you want to introduce me to your mom?”

Steve let him go, but grabbed his hand as they walked over to her.

“Mom,” he began shyly. “This is my boyfriend, Eddie Munson and his uncle, Wayne.”

Mrs Harrington smiled. “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Allison Harrington.”

“She’s pretty,” Eddie said. “Now I know where you get your good looks from.”

Steve and Mrs Harrington laughed.

She shrugged. “Eh, his father’s good looks was his only redeeming feature. But thank you.”

Eddie laughed. “At least he has one.”

“His only one,” she agreed. “And his biggest curse, unfortunately.”

“Would you like a drink before you go?” Wayne asked. “I don’t think we’ve got much other than beer if you want something stronger than soda or water.”

She shook her head. “I really need to get going. I have so much to do and not a lot of time to do it in.”

Mrs Harrington kissed Steve on the cheek. “We’ll meet up for lunch and I’ll give you the car back then, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

As she turned to leave, she called out over her shoulder. “Bring Eddie and your best friend, too. I’d like to meet her.”

Steve laughed. “She’ll be there!”

She waved and was out the door.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed.

“Holy shit,” Steve agreed.

“Edmond Joseph Munson,” Robin said, coming to a dead stop about fifteen feet from the table Steve was waiting for them at. “Why is the most beautiful woman in the world sitting with Steve?”

Eddie chuckled. “Isn’t she just gorgeous? Come on, so you can meet her.”

Robin opened her mouth to say no, but squawked when Eddie grabbed her wrist and dragged her over to the table.

Eddie leaned over a pressed a kiss to her cheek. “It’s good to see you again,” he murmured and sat down next to Steve.

“Oooh,” she said gleefully. “I like this one. So polite. You can keep him.”

Steve laughed. “Was going to happen with or without your permission.”

She cocked her head to the side and then nodded. “Good.” She smiled up at Robin who had gone completely red. “You must be Robin. Steven has told me all about you. Every word not spent on Eddie is spent on you.”

Robin smacked Steve. “What do you mean I’m second? I deserve better than that! I’m your Platonic soulmate with a capital P. One week. One week is all it took for me to replaced.” She sighed dramatically.

The woman leaned forward and stage whispered, “Is she always this exuberant?”

Steve laughed. “No.” Robin preened. “Sometimes she’s worse.”

“Hey!” Robin protested. She sat down in a huff.

“Robin this is my mom, Allison Harrington,” Steve said with a small smile.

“Oh!” she said. “Wow, yeah. Hi.” She looked over at Steve. “You never told me your mom was gorgeous.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Doesn’t every little boy think his mom is the prettiest woman in the world?” Allison blushed. “I don’t think you would have believed me.”

Robin thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Fair.”

They got talking and everything just clicked. Steve watched as his favorite people in the world got on like a house on fire. He didn’t think he would have this. Hell, he didn’t think he would survive the final push against the Upside Down, either.

He had a future. And wasn’t that just grand.

***

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

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#My writing #stranger things #steddie #season 4 fix it #ladykailtiha writes

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lqbeo · 11 months

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IN MY DREAMS ...

THIRTY TWO / The end

WARNINGS / angst WC / 1425

IN WHICH / You join the photography club to be with your crush, jeongin. But on the first day of the club you notice he wasn't there but instead his best friend, beomgyu, was.

Life was smooth sailing until it took an unexpected turn. Where did our daily exchanges of good morning and goodnight disappear to? Why did everything crumble away so suddenly? I honestly tried to move forward. But it's nearly impossible when every little thing triggers memories of him. From guitars to flannels to apples, I even gave up sipping smoothies and nibbling on straws simply because it reminded me of when he’d say, "Biting straws is not good for you."

Flashback —

I sat waiting in a cosy restaurant for the blind date that Yunjin and Chaewon had orchestrated for me. While I waited, I could hear those two friends chiming in through the phone. "Take this one seriously!" Chaewon's voice came through with an emphatic tone. "Yeah, don’t turn him down if he wants to see you again," Yunjin added, but I couldn't help but chuckle. You see, they'd arranged blind dates for me in the past, but I had always found a reason to bail.

"I won't bail this time, I promise," I assured them. "If I do, I owe you all tickets to the new Marvel movie." Their excited, almost childlike screams of anticipation came through the phone. "I'll catch up with you later, I think he's here." I hastily ended the call as I spotted a tall, handsome man taking the seat in front of me.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m a little late” He muttered and I shook my head. “No, it’s totally fine” I reassured him, taking a sip of the coffee I'd ordered earlier. Awkward silence hung in the air, and I was starting to contemplate asking Jeongin to fake a phone call about a car accident. Thankfully, Beomgyu decided to break the silence.

“Oh uhm, I’m Beomgyu. Chae Beomgyu”

The smile on my face slowly dropped. God, all the memories came flooding back in. My first date with Jeongin when Beomgyu worked at that restaurant. The time we took pictures together during the school’s air show. Our kiss in the storage room when we were in Seoul. My eyes then swell up with tears. “Uh, I don’t really know how these blind dates would work” He chuckles but all I could do was start to whimper. I see the worried expression he displayed when I all of a sudden started crying. “Yujin? Are you okay?” My loud cries I guess gave him an answer.

End of flashback —

Be proud that, after a few years, I stopped those intrusive thoughts that seemed to bring him to mind at the most unexpected moments. I could finally watch someone play the guitar without superimposing Beomgyu's image over them. I wore flannels without having to pretend they were his favourite black and white one. I even got back to enjoying smoothies without feeling like I was trying to hold onto a memory, and I didn't shy away from biting the straws. Companies started using paper straws, but I stuck with it.

It has been a decade since Beomgyu disappeared, I became an artist and my newest painting found its place in the city's most prestigious museum. As I crossed the threshold into the museum, eager to lay eyes on my painting for the very first time, the entire gallery captivated me. Sculptures and paintings, each more remarkable than the last, beckoned me. Their artistry was a testament to human creativity and expression.

I got to the hallway that showcased my painting and it was the first thing you’d see. A small smile grew on my face, I was proud of myself. The painting was one of the pictures me and Beomgyu took during the airshow years ago. Painting that piece was a key moment of the process of moving on.

Wandering down the hallway, I chanced upon an unassuming door. My curiosity got the better of me, so I surveyed my surroundings before cautiously pushing the door open. What lay inside was a room filled with screens and digital artwork. It wasn't crowded, but a few visitors were scattered about, engrossed in the videos and artwork on display.

Across from me, I noticed another door, marked with a stern "do not enter" sign. My mischievous spirit from high school stirred within me, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I opened the door silently and peered inside.

Inside, a small vintage TV sat, its screen entirely black at first. Then, it began to glitch, displaying blurred images of people intermittently. Suddenly, the screen glitched again, revealing an image identical to the one I had painted. It then went black once more.

The screen glitched once more, this time revealing a photo of the apple tree that Beomgyu once took me to. Another picture quickly followed, and to my astonishment, it was an image of me, hissing at the camera.

Flashback —

“You are good at one thing," He remarked, you turn to face Beomgyu. “You paint, right? I haven't seen any of your works, but I'm sure they're lovely." You tried to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your face, but the blood rushing to your cheeks gave you away. “Really?" Beomgyu snapped a picture of the trees, capturing a moment of natural beauty. “Mhm, you should show me one of your paintings, especially the one of Jeongin—"

“Ya! Quit teasing!" you playfully exclaimed, playfully hitting his head this time. Laughter escaped his lips as he pointed the camera at you. You hissed at the camera, unaware that he had already taken another picture.

End of flashback —

I have moved on, ask my friends and they will say the same thing. But moving on doesn’t mean forgetting every memory I had with him. The next picture was the video of Beomgyu I took during the airshow.

Flashback —

You get off track, your hand absent-mindedly turn to camera towards Jeongin. You admired him but you noticed Beomgyu swinging his arm around Jeongin’s shoulder. Again, you absent-mindedly turn the camera towards Beomgyu’s face instead. You stood still secretly watching how the frat boys interacted with one another. Until Beomgyu’s eyes catch sight of the camera that was pointed at him, resulting in him tilting his head.

End of flashback —

The screen turned black once more before showing a video of Beomgyu beside a young boy. “Look at the camera. '' He told the boy and my eyes started to water. I missed his voice. The little boy started speaking “Hi, Yn. Uhm..” I covered my face with my hands, trying to keep myself composed but obviously failing. “Have a happy new year” I heard Beomgyu whisper in the boy's ear.

“Happy new year”

“Say it with more passion like this, Have a happy new year!”

“Have a happy new year!” The boy said with more enthusiasm, making me laugh. I watched as Beomgyu gave the kid a high five. “Yes! Amazing.” Beomgyu complimented.

I began to recollect the memory of Beomgyu mentioning his younger brother. I suspected that the kid in the video was probably his brother. The joy they must have felt reuniting after many years was evident. His brother began speaking, "You know, the girl working with Beomgyu is really pretty—" Beomgyu swiftly silenced him by placing his hand over his mouth. His brother wriggled free from Beomgyu's grip and playfully proclaimed, "Mhm, it's true!" It brought a laugh from me.

Now, Beomgyu stood alone in the meadow under the night sky. The stars and the moon illuminated the scene. I observed as he took steps closer to the camera, bending down to fit the frame, ready to speak.

"I got out of bed just to show you this," he said, adjusting the camera to capture the moon and stars. Memories of our late-night drives and nights spent by the Han River, gazing at the sky, flooded my mind. Beomgyu continued,

“Uh, it's two in the morning in Korea, so you’re probably asleep. I know it’s about to be a year since we last saw each other but, hold one just a bit longer. I’ll come see you soon, because I just know that it’s not gonna be an amazing year if I don’t spend it with you”

Those were his final words before the screen faded to black. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. I was crying as intensely as I did on that blind date. I didn't care if someone found me; all I cared about was how Beomgyu could say those things but not come back. As I sobbed, I noticed the screen displaying:

In remembrance of Choi Beomgyu

(2001-2023)

MLIST / PREV

A/N: this is the end. Thank you so much for waiting. I apologise that it took too long. I started school again and everything just went chaotic. Anyways. Thank you so much for reading and I had a lot of fun creating this story. Thank you again for everything I love you guys saurrr much.

TAGLIST: @captivq @beomomb @flowerbe0m @rosenatorfirst @xtra-cheese @tya0 @catsyoon @woncheecks @ioszzn @kaeebtch @beoms-sugar @kaewonie @huening-ly @aernx @yumilovesloona @i2lain @myknifeyourlife @xrvrqs @sandhyaaa-aa @belovedxiao @beomsbeanie @yeonboy @beomies-world @tyigerz @ahnneyong @luvsoobs @eggeutarteuu @idgyuaf @ajakaashi @tae-ology @ikyuzies @marshmelle @wasteofoxygenn ( taglist is open )

2023 © lqbeo

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daydreamingyuta · 2 years

Text

Jungwoo Tries to Impress You

“Oh my god that’s so cute!” You say looking at your phone as you and your boyfriend, Jungwoo cuddle on the couch together.

“what’s cute?” Jungwoo asks.

“This!” you say as you show Jungwoo your phone. “You know my friend Valerie? Her boyfriend, Ash, built her a new Vanity table! isn’t that so cute!”

“Oh that’s just like your makeup table” Jungwoo says.

“Yeah but way nicer, look at how much storage it has in it. That’s so sweet of him to build that for her!”

“...Yeah” Jungwoo says with his face slightly scrunched up as he thinks.

You change the subject when a video of your other friends puppy comes up on your phone but Jungwoo’s mind is still on the vanity.

And then a week goes by and he still cannot stop thinking about the vanity.

“She was just so excited about it, like I feel like if I build her something, it would make her so happy! so I have to figure out what to make her” Jungwoo says to Mark.

“Wait.. you know how to build stuff? That’s actually super cool!”

“Huh? no I don’t know how to build anything but I will figure it out for y/n” Jungwoo says with a determined look.

“Awe that’s so cute” Mark says with a smile, turning to face Jungwoo.

But Jungwoo already walked away, too distracted by his thoughts on what exactly he should build for you. He thinks for what feels like 2 hours and then he finally gets the perfect idea! He’s going to build you a bookshelf! You have been needing one for the longest but have procrastinated getting one. And now there is just a big pile of books on your floor, which is honestly cute, until you want to read a book that’s on the very bottom of that pile.

Jungwoo decided to get started right away, looking up youtube videos on how to build a super nice shelf that will last a long time. Immediately he realizes that this is going to be harder than he thought, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of making his girl happy.

The next day he goes over to your place when you are not home to measure the exact space where you wanted your shelf to go. He didn’t have a tape measure so he used a ruler you had which made measuring 100 times harder, but he was determined. He went to the hardware store right afterwards where the nice man working there helped Jungwoo find the right wood, nails, and measurements. He also got a gorgeous lilac paint for the bookshelf that will match your room perfectly!

He walks through the store, with his shopping cart too full and he can barely see over the planks of wood. And then he sees a big tub of glitter. Of course he has to get the glitter to mix it in the paint because why would you not add glitter??

When he gets to his place he gets started right away, too excited to wait. It takes him over 4 hours to complete because he has never had to build anything before. Mark and Yuta come in halfway through and offer him help but Jungwoo said that it’s not as heartfelt if he doesn’t do it all by himself.

Once he is finished building and painting the final coat, he finally takes a step back to really look at the shelf. His heart drops. It’s crooked, the whole thing is crooked and to fix it, he has to take apart the whole thing and try again. Feeling defeated, hungry, and tired Jungwoo decides to try and fix it tomorrow.

Thats when you walk through the door and see the bookshelf he’s made for you and a defeated looking Jungwoo sitting down on the floor.

“Jungwoo! Did you make this?” you ask amazed.

“Y/N! what are you doing here? you aren’t supposed to see this yet!”

“We had plans to hang out today remember? we were going to watch a movie here. I picked up the dinner that we agreed on.” You say with the biggest smile on your face still staring at the bookshelf your boyfriend made.

Jungwoo stands up and walks over to you. He hugs you and sighs with his face snuggled into you.

“I’m sorry y/n I tried so hard to make it look good but it’s so crooked. But I will try to fix it tomorrow!”

“Jungwoo, you made it so I think it’s absolutely perfect! and honestly it’s not even that crooked. Plus I love the color! and the glitter!! This is actually the cutest thing I have ever seen.”

Jungwoo looks up at you smiling “Really? Even better than Valerie’s makeup table?”

You burst out laughing “Is that what this is about? Jungwoo you didn’t have to build me anything!!”

“But seeing her makeup table made you so happy so I wanted to build you something to make you even happier because you are the best girlfriend ever.”

“Jungwooo you are so cute!” you say giving him a hug.

“Soo you wanna put it in your room?”

“Of course!”

You two take the bookshelf to your place and you put all your books on it. Jungwoo surprises you with a bag full of decorations to make the bookshelf even cuter!

“Honestly, I love it Jungwoo” You say, so happy.

“It looks homemade” Jungwoo says still unsure.

“It’s one of a kind” You say giving him a kiss on the cheek.

At this Jungwoo smiles “Your right, it is one of kind, just like you”

You softly laugh “cheesy”

“You think my love for you is cheesy??” He says as he grabs you and gives you a million kisses.

#jungwoo #jungwoo nct #nct #nct 127 #jungwoo fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #kpop #k-pop fluff #happy jungwoo day

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eloves-writes · 2 years

Note

KEEP IT QUIET IS SO GOOD OH MY GOD GREAT JOB i would love to see a sequel where they in fact do talk about it if you'd be up for it 👀

part 2 to this fic which i am very proud of so obviously go read if you haven't already!

a/n: thank you so so much! so they actually don't end up talking quite so much, but please do enjoy😁

content warnings: swearing, masturbation, implied oral sex

----------------------------------------

the jet arrived back at the compound in the earlier hours of the evening, the kitchen clock reading 7:15 as the team walked in and set about sorting food. you didn’t feel much like family dinner. gradually feeling more and more confused about the events of the mission, you headed straight to your bedroom to take a hot shower to clear your head.

tony’s voice came over the intercom as you were undressing and hastily throwing your spoiled underwear in the laundry basket- “dinner will be ready in 15 minutes, we’re having pizza. snooze you lose. you will have to fend for yourself if you don’t show up. bye!”

you’d take your chances. better having an odd combination of leftover items from the fridge than sitting at a table with loki and natasha, who had agreed to wait until tomorrow to collect her winnings and tell the team she’d found you two together in the morning instead of the mission-abandoning, risk-taking truth. she was a good friend, and you knew it would come out eventually. might as well get it over with.

there was still the matter of talking it over with loki, though, you thought as the scalding water hit your exposed skin. absentmindedly, your hand moved to the small but noticeable bruise nat had pointed out earlier, tracing the shape of it with the soft pads of your fingertips. it reminded you suddenly of when it had been placed it there; his lips, his teeth, his warm breath, his heart beat vibrating through your body and intertwining with your own as he held you into him. you removed your fingers from your neck and allowed them to trail downwards, steam from the hot water clouding your thoughts and making you sweat. you touched yourself gently as you had many times before, this time knowing what loki’s hands felt like instead of merely imagining. the drone of the shower would mostly cover your sounds, and everybody else was in the kitchen, so you didn’t hold back in whimpering his name as you had in the storage closet.

his name falling out of your lips felt like he’d died and gone to valhalla. your bedroom door was ajar so he’d just come right in, expecting for you to be scrolling on your phone or reading a book or something. hearing the shower running with the echoing of his own name between moans was infinitely better. he knew any good man would leave and give you some privacy, but he was neither good nor technically a man- so he made himself comfortable on the foot of your bed and waited, mentally recording the sounds you made for his own later use.

you came quickly, knowing your own body and not interested in anything other than getting off and hopefully getting him off your mind: and it worked, for a few minutes anyway. you cleaned yourself up, washed your body again, switched off the water, and wrapped yourself in a soft, clean towel with a clear head. what you didn’t expect after your clarifying shower was for loki to be sat on your bed directly outside the bathroom door.

“what the fuck!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly out of your skin. there was a beat of stunned silence. you exclaimed again- “what the fuck?”

he smiled mischievously and looked your wet, barely covered body up and down.

“get out?”

“good shower?” he spoke agonisingly slowly.

your face dropped as you realised why he was so comfortable. “shit.”

he was evilly grinning ear-to-ear.

you didn’t really know what to say. silence fell awkwardly: loki beside himself with amusement and you completely lost for words.

you decided to ignore him momentarily and get dressed. he wolf-whistled as you dropped your towel. you looked at his pointedly over your shoulder at him and swiftly threw on a loose-fitting sweater and some old pyjama pants. you were dumbfounded. what on earth were you meant to say? you couldn’t lie, he’d definitely heard you. you couldn’t admit it outright, he was immoderately full of himself at the best of times and this was already giving him too much satisfaction. you settled on skirting around it.

“did you want to talk?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“i think perhaps we should.”

“yeah.”

you sat beside him on your bed. “what are we doing?”

he smirked. “i prefer to think about what we could be doing.”

“loki.”

“i love the way you say my name.”

for fuck’s sake, you thought to yourself. concentrate. if only he’d concentrate. the tension was back, more unbearable than ever.

“can we just-”

you were cut off by his lips on yours, desperate and harsh as he pushed you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you. he pinned your wrists above your head, and you indulged in him for a moment before you turned away your head.

“loki, i’m not sure this is a good idea.”

he got off of you right away. “is everything alright?”

“i’m fine, it’s just… i don’t know. is this a bad idea?”

“it’s not a bad idea if you want it, princess.”

you had to look away to stop yourself kissing him again.

“do you just want to sleep with me? not that that’s bad or anything, i just like to know what i’m getting myself into before i get into it. and what if the team disapprove? i-”

“don’t think about it so much y/n. they won’t care. the teasing will subside. if you just want to fuck me when you need me, i will oblige. if you want more than that… well it might take a little more convincing but i like you princess, as much as i want you. this can be whatever you want.”

you bit your lip to hold back a cheesy smile. “okay.”

“okay?”

“let the convincing begin,” you say mischievously, unzipping his pants with a twinkle in your eye.

#mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#loki smut #loki god of mischief #mcu fic #mcu x reader #marvel fic #avengers fic #the avengers #marvel fanfiction

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dominimoonbeam · 1 year

Text

Don't Run - 14

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

you can find the series from the start over on patreon.

story tags: mobsters, romance, explicit sex, explicit language, learning to trust, dark themes, bad childhood, arranged marriage, reference to past murder, kidnapping, danger, violence, guns

DON’T RUN - CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The sun was dropping.

Freya finally reached something familiar. After what felt like endless streets of tall brick buildings, she saw the park that pushed up on one side of Adi’s neighborhood. Her bare feet hurt but she didn’t stop walking. If she stopped, it would be harder to get going again. If she stopped, she would be tempted to give up.

She was tired deep in her muscles, down to her bones, and her stomach felt like an empty pit, but above all else, Freya was cold. She had mostly dried out from the sea, her dress and hair still damp but no longer soaked through. She had stopped dragging a line of dripping water up into the city from the sea.

She had received plenty of looks on her way, but no one had said anything. She supposed she might not be the first woman reeking of the ocean to march barefoot up the sidewalk, or maybe it was just such a surprise that no one knew what to say. She didn’t know what to say either.

It had been a long day.

Worst yet, was that the only place she could go was back to Adi’s apartment. She didn’t want to go there. She didn’t want him to see her, not like this. She was too tired to put up a good front—too tired to play their game. But what other choice did she have? She didn’t have her phone or any money on her. She didn’t know anyone else in the city, at least, no one that would harbor her. She couldn’t even get into her storage unit without first going to the apartment to get her bag.

“Freya?”

She froze between the deep shadows of trees on the paved pathway through the park.

Footfalls ran toward her and she balled her fists, trying to be ready for whatever was coming next. It wouldn’t be Vizzini, at least. If he survived, he’d still be in a hospital getting that hole in his side taken care of.

She pushed one cold hand into her pocket, finding the knife but not pulling it, not yet. She was a woman in a park in the evening wearing nothing but a damp dress. She needed surprise on her side.

Freya turned toward the approaching figure, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering and pushing her chin up.

Ezra ran out of the shadows and right up to her, his eyes huge with fear and…relief? He exhaled hard, touching her shoulders and looking down at her, all the way down to her toes and then back up, like he was checking for injuries. “Oh, thank god,” he whispered, and it sounded like he meant it, like he had been worried. He cupped her face, turning it up to him to look her in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

Freya blinked, her vision blurring. She opened her mouth to answer but came up short. Was she okay? Why did it seem like Ezra was always asking her that? Why did it always sound like he cared? Oh shit. Her vision wasn’t blurring, it was watery. Tears escaped her lashes and a lump rose up into her throat to choke her. She was not okay.

Ezra had been out looking, because there was nothing else to do until they got some call or word about who had taken Freya and why. Hours had passed and there had been no ransom call. Unless Harmon had gotten the call and lied to his sons about it… Which was possible. They weren’t exactly a family built on honesty. And Harmon Ellis had and would always do what he thought was best for his kids, no matter what anyone else said. No matter how badly that had gone in the past.

Ezra pushed the thoughts of Grayson’s kidnapping out of his head. It had been so long ago. He and Adi had been kids. Even then, they had known he was taken and seen how sick with fear his mother had been. There had been a ransom call that time. There had been vengeance and death in the wake of it. For a long time, all Ezra and Adi knew was that Harmon had gotten Grayson back and that Grayson had never been the same.

They hadn’t really known what had happened until years later, when they themselves were grown.

It had made them all a little overprotective of the younger members of the family, who couldn’t understand why because none of the older ones would ever explain. Victoria and Rosy still had bodyguards working in shifts to never leave them unprotected. The vigilance was attributed to Harmon, but Adi had told Ezra that it wasn’t the old man that had insisted and put all of that protection into place—it had been Grayson. He had corralled his sisters into tolerating the guards even in adulthood.

The question Ezra tried not to grind on, was why Freya had been different. Why she hadn’t been as well guarded.

He knew the answer, of course. The Ellises had not thought to protect her. They had been watching her like a criminal not a treasure, more worried about her running or scheming than being attacked.

All the air had pushed out of his lungs when he saw a figure that looked like her walking into the park.

“Freya!” He was already running toward her. She stopped at her name and hope burned his throat, choking him.

When he reached her, she turned toward him. She looked fierce, even in that rumpled blue dress with her hair in damp coils around her flushed face. He touched her shoulders, her skin icy under his palms. She was on her own two legs, upright and alive, with no significant bloodstains or injuries that he could see. “Oh, thank god.”

He cupped her face to turn it up to him, to get a look at her. One cheek was a little swollen like she’d been slapped, and she looked exhausted, but otherwise she didn’t seem to be hurt. “Are you okay?”

She was barefoot and she smelled like the bay. Her hair was still wet at the roots where his fingertips dipped into her hairline.

Color rushed to her cheeks, suddenly alive, and tears rolled off her dark eyes onto his thumbs. She cried like she didn’t know what was happening, like it had taken her by surprise. Ezra pulled her up against him and wrapped both arms around her. She was so cold, her dress damp too. He rubbed her back and her arms, letting her cry for a minute before taking off his jacket and putting it on her.

“Can we go to your place?” she asked in a rush, teeth chattering.

Ezra thought he’d misheard her at first. He rubbed her hands in his. “We should get you to the hospital, Freya.”

Panic made her spasm a step back, her hands pulling out of his. “N-No! I-I-I got out of this before it was a-a-a situation. I’m not going to the-the…”

Ezra nodded hurriedly. She was shaking and choking on her words, and he couldn’t tell if it was shock or cold. His place was close. Even closer than Adi’s. “Okay. Okay. My place first. We need to get you inside.” He looked down at her bare feet on the pavement and scooped her up before she could start walking again.

She hung onto his shoulders, at first awkwardly in surprise, and then finally leaning into his chest and folding her arms around his neck. She was like a block of ice in his arms. He held her tighter and walked faster.

“Are you hurt?” Ezra asked.

Freya shook her head, her face pressed against the side of his neck.

He wasn’t sure she’d tell him if she was, but at least she was okay. He didn’t let her go until they were in his apartment. He kicked the door shut behind him and walked her straight down the narrow hall and into the bathroom. “You need to warm up,” he said, already turning on the shower to give the spray a chance to heat up. He pulled a clean towel down from the cupboard and put it on the counter.

She nodded, standing up and rolling his jacket off like she was sore. She handed it back to him. “Thanks,” she mumbled, quiet in a way he’d never seen her or even imagined her. Was she embarrassed? Scared? Exposed?

Ezra stepped into the hall to toss his jacket into the living room where it landed on the back of a chair. He pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Don’t!” The word burst from her, surprising them both.

Ezra stared at the wet, shivering woman in his bathroom, and Freya stared right back, dark eyes big with shock.

“Don’t tell him where I am,” she tried again, voice strained and teeth still chittering on her words.

Ezra didn’t put his phone down, caught between what she was asking for and what had to be done. He had to call Adi. He had to tell them she was okay. They were out there looking for her.

She cringed and deflated right before his gaze. She nodded tightly and looked away. “Fine,” she said, unzipping the side of her dress. His gaze dipped to that stretch of bared skin, searching for bruises but lingering even when he didn’t see any. “Tell him… Tell him I’ll be at the apartment soon, I just need to clean up, okay?”

Ezra stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut when she continued to undress. As tempting as it was to stay, and as easy as it would be to convince himself it was just to make sure she wasn’t injured, it would be wrong. She was vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable with that. He walked the few paces to his living room to give her that little space to herself.

He called Adi and held the phone to his ear.

The other man answered on the first ring.

“I found her. You can call off the hunt.”

“You found her? Where? Is she…Is she okay?”

Ezra thawed at the concern in Adi’s voice. He sounded shook up, not just angry but scared. “I think so. I mean, nothing’s broken and she doesn’t look like she’s been knocked around.”

“Okay. Where are you?”

“We’re at my place. She’s a popsicle. She smells like she’s been in the bay. I think she walked all the way from the docks back up to the park…”

“What?” Adi ground out the word like he too was trying to get his head around the idea. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can—”

“No.” Ezra looked down the hall to the closed bathroom door. “Adi… She’s freaked out. Let me talk to her. Either she’ll sleep here tonight, or I’ll walk her over to your apartment.”

Adi was quiet but still there. He was thinking.

Ezra waited.

Adi sighed and he knew even from over the phone that he had closed his eyes and nodded. “Did she say anything about what happened? Did she say who took her and why?”

“No, but I’ll try to find out.”

Adi was quiet for another beat, not ready to hang up. “Ezra… If she is hurt, you need to call me or call an ambulance. Take her to a hospital. I don’t care if she’s worried about the families or whatever. If she’s hurt, take her to a hospital.”

Ezra smiled softly. God, he loved that man. “I will.” There had been a time when they were kids that no one ever went straight to a hospital. The family made a dozen calls, trying to handle every injury privately before finally having to go to the hospital, and even then, only in the most severe instances.

When he got off the phone, he ordered a pizza for delivery and then found her some clothes.

The shower was still going.

The door didn’t have a lock, but he rapped his knuckles at the thin barrier before popping it open. “Still alive?”

“Yeah,” she called back from inside the shower. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Take your time. I’m putting some clothes on the sink.” He stepped into the steamy room to put the stack down next to the towel. There was a switchblade in the sink. Where had she kept that? “I ordered us some food, so if you hear the buzzer that’s all it is. Let me know if you need anything.”

She was quiet.

Ezra ducked back out, closing the door behind him.

Adi called off the search, even though the situation felt far from resolved.

She was alive and safe, and that had to be enough for right now.

It was enough to almost buckle his knees with relief when Ezra had called to tell him.

The last few hours of his life had been enough for the weight of his responsibility to set in.

His dad had been angry that someone would dare to interfere in his business and with his family—that anyone would think they could take from him and get away with it. But he hadn’t been worried for her, not really. He had been worried about what her death could mean.

And Harmon Ellis wasn’t wrong. If Freya Morgan died in their city, how could her family see it as anything but their fault, if not their doing? Forget the treaty, they’d have a war.

But after that first hour of searching and hearing nothing, Adi Ellis had been more than ready for a war. He didn’t care about the treaty. He didn’t care about their name or the disrespect of someone taking from his old man. He cared that someone had taken from him, that he had lost Freya, that she might be hurt or worse because he had treated her life too casually.

He’d gone to the banquet hall at May Bell and demanded a full account of what had happened leading up to his wife’s disappearance. The cameras in front of the doors caught the handful of seconds it took for one masked man to shove Wells out of the way and then push Freya into a car. One of her heels had been left behind on the pavement like Cinderella.

Adi wouldn’t have even known it was her if he hadn’t been told. She wasn’t dressed like herself. If she’d been in her damn boots, she wouldn’t have lost a shoe.

When he asked why Freya had been leaving the brunch early, Wells had hedged.

He’d almost flipped the table. He made it clear that if Freya was dead, Wells was out of a job, so she might as well tell him what had happened because whoever she might be protecting sure as shit wouldn’t be able to protect her.

After a moment of consideration, the assistant had reported on the drink that appeared to have been tossed down Freya’s front and the rising welt on her cheek.

It wasn’t hard to narrow down the suspects since he couldn’t imagine anyone but his own family would dare to slap her at a public function. She was, technically, an Ellis. It might not mean enough to his sisters or their mothers, but it would mean something to everyone else.

Rosy had looked regretful but stubborn, and Victoria confessed to nothing. So, he assumed they shared the guilt.

It was small consolation that he could assume neither of them had any part in her abduction, because if they had, they wouldn’t have attacked her in public as well. They would have been smiling and waiting for someone else to take her away.

He drove home after calling off the search.

His phone rang when he was on his way up to his apartment and he grabbed at it hurriedly, hoping for more information from Ezra but worried that she was in fact injured and he was calling for help.

It was his father.

Adi rolled his shoulders back and answered, holding the phone to his ear.

“Who took her?” Harmon Ellis asked.

“I don’t know yet,” he answered, not missing how his father’s first question wasn’t if she was okay.

“Find out.” He hung up.

Adi sighed, closing his eyes and counting, trying to let go of that ball of anger twisting in his chest—trying not to hurl his phone at the wall of the elevator.

The doors parted and he opened his eyes, stepping off the lift. He didn’t really want to go home, but he had nowhere else to go, not while she was at Ezra’s.

His phone rang again just as he was unlocking the door and walking in. He checked again, quick just in case it was Ezra. It was Grayson.

Adi answered, tossing his keys on the tall, narrow table and kicking the door shut.

“You found her?” Grayson asked, wind somewhere on his end of the call.

“Ezra did. Yeah.”

“Is she okay?”

Adi exhaled hard, some of that weight on his chest easing. “I think so. Ezra’s looking after her and going to try to find out what happened. He said she looked like she’d walked from the docks all the way up to the park where he found her… If that’s true, then whoever took her, couldn’t have had her for more than an hour.”

“I’m at the viewpoint behind Nine,” Grayson said. Nine meant warehouse number nine. It should be empty right now. They rotated which ones were in use and they hadn’t done anything with that property in a few years, but Adi knew the viewpoint. It was old and they used to play there as kids. Later in life, they’d take dates there to make out in the summer. “There’s blood on the steps and the planks, and some fresh bullet holes in the wall.”

“Any bodies?”

“No.”

Adi heard the note of disappointment in his brother’s voice and felt it echoed in his heart.

#Don't Run #honest liars series #adi/ezra/freya #mobster trio #romance #it's complicated #own work #clover down #dominimoonbeam #learning to trust #mobster romance #<3

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fellpyrean · 2 years

Text

Advent Statement 5 - Open the Door

Continuing the trend of going further off the rails as I went along in the challenge comes this chapter, wherein I barely contain my burning desire to give the Distortion ill-advised kissies. This version is actually very slightly different from the last version that was posted to ao3 to make it a touch more canon compliant, as when it was written I was less knowledgeable about how the Spiral works but extremely very enthusiastic. It is probably still not perfect, but I figure it is more toeing the line now than before.

CWs: Canon Typical Violence, Suicidal Ideation, Self Harm

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Hah, w-wow. This is where you do this? Really? No shade or anything, just. They really don’t give you guys a budget, do they? This looks like a. Repurposed supply closet. My old office was better than this.

Y-Yeah, no, sorry. I don’t mean anything by it, just trying to make light of things.

Could we keep the door open? I’d like to be able to keep an eye on it. I’ve had. Issues with doors, lately. Thanks.

Hoo. Okay.

From the beginning then?

So, my first real job was security. Sort of. I’d had other jobs, but it’d been a while. I was 23 and coming out of a bad time, so I took the first job that gave me stable hours and, well, employment. I actually kind of lucked into my actual job? I was like, the third pick or something for this position, and the first two had dropped out for some reason, so I got promoted from misc camera jockey to head honcho.

In other words, I worked at some store that took itself too seriously and wanted me to sit in the back and watch cameras. Technically, they wanted me to watch out for ‘time theft’ and other bullshit; I was in no way qualified for this, but it’s all bullshit, so I figured qualifications didn’t matter that much either. Time theft isn’t real. They don’t fire managers for time theft, and I don’t think I could count all the times I’ve seen the guys upstairs on their phone playing fucking Candy Crush. But if a cashier so much as stares up at the lights too long, or leans on something, that’s an Offense. God forbid they look at their phone; may as well be a felony for how worked up the big boys get.

Right. Anyway. I didn’t last too long there. I mean, I was there for what, a year and a half? So like, long enough, but they decided I wasn’t catching enough employees committing terrible crimes so out the door I went.

Kind of a shame. I liked that office. I mean, it did suck, objectively. It was only as big as a shoebox and had about a dozen camera screens, all on monitors about ten years out of date when they bought the things. It had its own air conditioner to keep the video recorders and storage computers cool, and man. It got brisk in there. But I mostly sat there, door closed, hoodie on in a cheap old computer chair and watched Netflix. So really, a great time to get paid for.

I wasn’t an idiot though, and by the time I’d had the third pointed email about internal investigations, I knew they probably weren’t going to let me coast by much longer, so I began looking around.

I did like the idea of watching cameras. I mean, as long as it was for something actually important, I could get behind it. I didn’t have to make nice for customers and I could spend a lot of time alone. Both A+ benefits honestly. Plus, I mean. It’s kind of funny, seeing what people do when they don’t think anyone is watching. So I put some feelers out looking for something sort of similar.

That’s how I found my… my current job.

I won’t say the name, but it’s a museum. It used to be someone’s house around the turn of the century I think; some old millionaire who donated the estate on his death, along with all of his collection. That should narrow it down enough. I honestly was pretty excited when I got the offer? I mean. I thought there’d actually be qualifications and back and forth involved to be a security/camera guy at an art museum, but they just seemed weirdly happy to have me.

I never found out what happened to the guy before me. Considering my uh. My run- ins, hah, with doors, it makes the explanation ‘he just walked out’ a little. Concerning.

So, no surprise, but they hired me. We had one phone interview, they called me in to talk, and the guy pretty much gave me the job on sight. He was… I mean, he’s my boss so when I call him ‘greasy,’ I’m being polite. I had no idea how a guy like that was in charge of an art museum, but nobody said otherwise, so, boss he was. Is. Whatever.

I honestly had a real good time touring the place that first day. It’s just objectively a really nice house. Sprawling, expanded at least a couple times from the original plans, with those high ceilings and carved and lacquered wooden beams and columns holding it up, extravagant tile floors, and every free wall covered in paintings. The rose garden out back - because of course it had one - had several marble works and old fountains, and there were grand staircases around just about every corner. It was disorienting, a real maze of a place, but I did my best to memorize what shit was where during our walk. I wanted to do a good job, after all.

My boss just told me not to worry too much. There’d be other guys there to patrol the grounds in person, and I would really just be on camera to tell them if I saw something particularly weird, or like, some guy with a cartoonishly large bag shoving paintings into it.

It was pretty normal for a bit. I’d say like, the first… two weeks maybe. Maybe a month.

That was when things got… Well, that’s when he turned up.

This camera room was pretty nice. It was big enough I could scoot around pretty well in my chair. It had an entire wall filled with, like, nice monitors, all with access to multiple feeds, and it would cycle through automatically every 15 seconds or so unless I paused it or manually changed it. And I didn’t need a hoodie and a blanket and a cup of tea just to feel warm.

Then, this one night, I noticed malfunctions. Down in one of the galleries, the cameras were just… completely fucked. Staticy and warped, flickering, whole nine yards, you know? I thought it might be the connections, but I was pretty concerned. Was this something big? Like, I don’t know, the guys with the cartoonishly large bags had some… device to interrupt the cameras while they loaded up? So I called one of the patrol guys, Mike. He said he’d go check it out.

So there I was, tracking him through the halls on the cameras that did work and just like, praying that nothing was going on that I’d have to call the cops for, when he gets to the static area. I could still sort of see him, mostly just his silhouette as he turned on the flashlight and started checking around. His radio sounded like absolute garbage, but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so that was kind of a relief.

And uh. Then he moved into the next room and. Well.

I saw two people on the monitor. Just silhouettes still of course; the feed was still just fucked beyond belief, but there were two people. The first one, Mike, with his flashlight making half the screen just a mess of artifacted white, and the second one. Right behind him. Just kind of following him as he walked. But it wasn’t him. This wasn’t the screen doubling him in its glitching, because it moved differently.

Whatever was walking behind him moved wrong. Like its limbs and joints were just kind of suggestions on how to move rather than a pretty important part of the entire thing? And it didn’t have an arm up with a flashlight. I’d have noticed, because the hands I could see on the thing were. Nightmarish. Huge and gnarled and twisted, like someone melted together a mess of. I don’t know. Knives? Scrap metal? Trying to look at it, to figure it out made my head ache. The point was, that was not my coworker.

My coworker had very normal hands and positively boring knees; his flashlight was still going strong, and this thing just kept following right behind him as he walked.

I stared at it for a while, trying to decide if I was losing my mind. I swapped through every camera I could until I had maybe a dozen pointed at the spot my coworker would walk through next to get to the gallery. I figured, if I was losing my mind, then I couldn’t hallucinate twelve angles at once.

No, I didn’t say anything to Mike. ‘Yeah uh, hey Mike? Is there some real fucked up guy like, right behind you? No horrible hands or anything? No? Haha, yeah, just playing! Gotcha!’

Look, I’d only been there a month at best, and maybe I’d. Maybe I’d mucked up something with the camera settings. I wasn’t about to start in on the crazy stuff.

So I waited. Watched. I stared into the static until I felt it in my eyes and I did not blink.

I knew the exact moment Mike and his freaky tag-a-long entered the frame, because I heard this. Godawful screeching noise. Like. Have you heard an electrical thing malfunction? That cartoonish electric zapping buzz noise. I heard that. A dozen times over, from each of the monitors. Buzzing and overlapping into a sound that made my ears ache, my head pound, as every screen twisted - and then all the cameras fixed themselves.

Just like that.

And there stood Mike, all alone, his flashlight pointed into one of the side galleries.

There was nobody there. Nobody behind him, nothing. Just an empty wall with a random door made of oddly light wood.

But, well. I didn’t think much of it at the time.

It was still just a door to me, then.

That night, I only cared about radioing him to say that the cameras were working again, and to quickly move everything back to look at what they were supposed to point at. Annnd, well, everything was just fine. Not a single rug or bauble out of place.

Mike was a real champ about it, though. He helped check the camera connections while he was in there. He even, heh. I mean, he flirted a little bit while he did it? Might have just been guy talk since it wasn’t a private radio connection or anything and our other coworkers definitely heard it - there was a bit of hooting involved, alright? - but it kind of felt like he knew I was freaked out and was trying to calm me down. It helped that Mike’s cute. His hair has this stupid little curly flick it does, and I could see him playing with it as he went around and fiddled with the wires for me.

Pretty stupid, but it did work. He made me smile.

I didn’t think about the weird shit too much until I was leaving in the morning, and decided to swing through that gallery just to, you know. See it myself. Not that I thought I was more familiar with the wiring than Mike, but it just helps get your eyes on these things in person sometimes. And, well.

In the spot where I’d turned the cameras all on him. That bend in the halls, right where he’d rounded that corner? Where I’d seen that door that didn’t match the lacquer?

There was no door there. Not even a painting I could have mistaken for one.

The wall was completely bare.

I won’t say it messed me up, but it definitely unnerved me. I knew I was in the right spot; it was pretty distinctive, even in that labyrinth of a building. There’s only so many peeing angels in a place, you know? But it was only a door that had gone for a walk or something. I didn’t see it anywhere else on my way out, so mainly I just chalked it up to one more thing I’d hallucinated the night before.

Too much caffeine probably, I told myself.

It wasn’t the caffeine.

That door was there, but it didn’t only have to be there. It can be anywhere it wants to. It can hide and it can wait and it can last so, so much longer than you can.

And it belongs to that. That weird fuck.

I saw him again. It? I don’t know.

It took just long enough that I’d gotten reasonably calm again - you know, I’d gone and done the ‘oh it wasn’t that bad, you probably just imagined it’ bit on myself - for him to turn up, and what do you know. I was flicking through cameras, settled in for the evening with my microwaved cup of mediocre work tea and there he was.

The camera wasn’t as warped this time. It was still bad, but I could see him. He had long, long hair. Blonde, and it moved in twisting, impossible coils; constantly shifting and swirling even as it stayed perfectly still and filled with patterns that bled onto his clothes. Like he was a coloring book page and he didn’t really care if he went outside the lines; like insisting on something like lines with him would just tickle him pink. And there he sat; his long, long legs crossed nice and leisurely, and he looked up into the camera and waved.

Those hands like a fucking nightmare and he just. Waved like he was a neighbor and we’d both gone out to sit on the porch in the morning. And oh. Oh did he smile. It might have been nice. If it hadn’t gone far, far too wide. Too long. Too sharp and twisted.

And then he said, Hello, little watcher.

And I screamed, because I heard it, right in my ear. Like he’d leant over and whispered it, soft and tender and buzzing, echoing into my bones and bouncing, bouncing inside my skull as every, single screen flared, buzzed and shut off. I heard him laugh. Like I was the funniest goddamn thing he’d ever seen. He laughed and laughed as the lights in my office flickered and popped, as the computers whined and screamed, as I scrabbled backwards out of my chair until my back hit the wall, tea pouring off my desk onto the floor as I jammed my hands over my ears and tried to block out the awful, awful rebounding glee.

And then to top it off, the wall behind me fucking opened because it was a door that shouldn’t have been there.

I almost fell in. Right into him, and his horrid smile and fizzing laughter and hands that reached to drag me in when I jerked away.

That was apparently my limit. Knife hands sinking into my shoulder like soft butter. A single, razor-sharp, warped finger tilting up my chin as another dragged, slowly, deliberately across my cheek, through the delicate skin to rest right beneath my eye. All it would have taken was a single twitch. And looking at him up close, unable to look away, my vision filled with those ever-shifting patterns and colors and my eyes burning in agony, pain blossoming from my shredded flesh and through my body, my brain decided: shut down. That’ll fix this right up.

I woke up apparently two hours later to Mike shaking me and worry coming through the radio. There’d been a power surge and they’d not realized anything was wrong with me until they’d gone ribbing me for a bit and realized I’d not responded for an unusually long time. I… was a bit hysterical when I came to. Also, bleeding. A lot of that. I have no idea how they explained away the shreds that had become my hoodie and a significant part of my shoulder or the slash ending right below my eye that left blood streaming down my face, but I didn’t bleed out and I guess that. Thing. Had decided I was less fun to play with if I was unconscious. So, victory for my brain I guess? And Mike was a godsend.

He patted my back while they waited for an ambulance to show up.

He whispered so sweetly, so soft and tender against my ear. He ran his fingers through my blood-stained hair and smiled at me. Told me I’d be alright.

I think he told them I had a stroke. I wasn’t in any shape to argue, honestly, and I figured this may as well fucking happen. My brain was still buzzing, and I couldn’t string a thought together if I’d tried. It was better to let Mike lie than saying an impossible bastard had decided to tenderize my shoulders and spook me so bad I passed out.

I was very glad to be given time off. Three months to heal; earlier if I felt up to it, since my job wasn’t really high on the physical exertion. It felt safe, going home. It wasn’t fancy, but it didn’t have that goddamn thing and its goddamn door or patterns that blinked behind my eyelids when they closed.

I was an idiot.

If a door can slide out of nowhere onto a wall where it shouldn’t be, if it can come and go at its whimsy, why should it matter what building it happens in?

It gave me enough time for the painkillers to wear off and the stitches to start to itch and my first homestay pizza to get there when I opened my front door and, instead of apartment C-13 across the hall, was a blank, yellow door.

Do you know, that almost. Almost broke me? I didn’t even grab my pizza.

Seeing that door there, I just. The first thing I thought was Did it actually let me go? Or did I fall in and this entire thing is something my brain has come up with to cope?

It told me, hadn’t the hall behind that thing looked a lot like the halls of my apartment?

I don’t. I don’t think it did. I mean, I hope that I’m sitting here, talking to you. That you’re real. But I’ve seen that door so many times. It's been two months. I’ve dreamed that it pulled me into that door, limp and ragged, and has just. Been toying with me since then. Enjoying watching me doubt and panic and writhe in fear and indecision. I’ve considered just opening the damn door to get it over with, you know? Because I can’t go a day without it stalking me.

I’ve. I’ve gone pretty far to convince myself that this is real. Pain helps.

I stare at that door, my arm bleeding, and tell it, tell him, that I know this is real, even if I can’t tell anyone else what’s happening. I keep every door in my apartment open and curse that I didn’t get that stupid pretentious studio because I have to double check every time I want to piss that I’m not walking into a hallway that shouldn’t be there.

Every time I open the door to the hallway, every time I get up in the middle of the night, I have to pinch myself and check. It’s showed up on the floor. I opened my fridge to hands reaching out to grab me. My fucking cabinets. My groceries live in bags on my living room floor for fuck’s sake and I twitch when I see the color yellow. Half of these bandages are from close calls. From fingers as sharp and keen as new blades catching and cutting my flesh in awful, spiraling lines that hurt to see. That make my pain into a mockery as it tells me that he is just as real as I am, and he is so Hungry.

I’m honestly amazed I made it here to talk to you today. It’s been relentless these last few days and I. Do you know how many doors you walk through on an average day? It’s more than you think.

Mike keeps texting to check on me, but I’ve not replied. Every time I try, the text twists. The screen glitches and blurs and warps, until what I’ve typed out doesn’t answer his question; it just says, Hello, little watcher. You’re being quite rude.

Don’t ignore me.

Come. Open my door.

I don’t know why this is happening. I’m so tired.

Is it because I saw something I shouldn’t have? Is it because I… because I watched too much? Because I enjoyed it?

I… I think next time. Next time I see it. I’ll just open the door. It’ll be better than this. I’ll open the door and walk right into those hands and let them fold around me and I’ll feel that horrible, wonderful pain one last time.

I can already tell; you can’t do anything to help me. You’re just listening to be nice. You probably don’t even believe me, do you? As soon as I said what I’ve had to do to ground myself, I saw what you thought.

I’m just crazy, right? Another ‘witness’ coming off a bad trip.

Don’t bother trying to argue. I’m. I’m not crazy. The door’s real. It’s all real.

I Know it is.

Don’t worry. I’ll show myself out.

#tma advent project #i have realized that doing this nixes my italics and such from the original and i really cannot be assed to fix that #rest assured! the original contained italics!#crowswritings #knew i forgot a tag

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generallybrontidefeelings · 3 years

Text

Stressed

Rating: NC-17

A/N: Brought to you by this post. I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to make any decisions. The degree is an actual MS you can get from American University in DC. U of Tennessee’s anthropology dept. hosts what’s called a body farm. It's a lab for forensic pathology students. Do NOT I repeat DO NOT look up pictures.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you

Summary: Marcus Pike is an associate faculty member at your forensics college. You ask him to be your second reader for your thesis, even though you have a huge crush on him. Nothing is better than something, right? By the time you pass your exam, you're so pent up you could scream.

Warnings: cadaver talk, pining, age difference, some power dynamics?, annoying college talk, sex, dirty talk, a God awful metaphor curtesy of Blanche Devereaux, 39

“Take a deep breath.”

You huff in a small shallow breath. Then let it out, and take in a longer, fuller one.

“Now let it out.” You let your cheeks puff up as cool air streams past your lips. “You’ve made huge improvements, and you’ve studied hard. The paper exam will be easy, and the oral will be a cinch.”

You gulp. “I know. It’s just...pre-show jitters, you know?”

He gives you a full smile, and flips the document shut. You hand him the binder clip, accidentally brushing his fingers when you do.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

You swallow, fiddling with your paper edge. God you feel like a twelve year old. You're fucking twenty-seven and about to apply for the FBI, why are you such a sap? He’s not available. Not even remotely. He will be gone in a year, back to the Bureau. There is no reason to nurse a crush. And you curse yourself for asking a man you’re attracted to - you, idiot, idiot! - to spend more time with you. Even if it is reading your dull chapter.

"No, I have everything I need, thanks."

"Then scoot. I have to read like...thirty pages of Tanner's chapter before he gets here."

You pull your bag to your shoulder. "you're not going to get that far," you scoff. The tensing in your shoulders relaxes a little when you stand to leave.

"We'll see," he says. He opens the door of his office for you. You glance back once more, and he's still in the doorway watching you go. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." Your mind swirls back and forth between thoughts of Mr. Pike, your thesis, Pike, your oral defence, your paper exam in two days, Marcus crossing his ankles in his reading chair. And you walk. Straight ahead, not looking back. But when you get to the door handle you turn around. And he's still there. Watching.

You've never been so stressed in your life.

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You met Marcus Pike on a muggy afternoon in August deep in the heart of Tennessee. The air warped off the pavement as you drove together to the School of Anthropology to visit your cadaver lying relaxed and prostrate in the middle of a fenced field. The air is already warm, then lightning flashes in the clouds to your right, and plopping rain drops scatter across the lawn, and dampens A-0017’s second hand suit. His raisinette hands lie against the grass almost like he’s communing with the earth. You watched the water hit his face, and permanently closed eyelids, and shaved head.

You had no business being so fidgety while kneeling next to a cadaver. Agent Marcus Pike and the facility director chat a couple feet away, leaving you to your business with A-0017. Pike had never been to the school’s mysterious forensics lab, even though he had plenty of time to when he was earning his own masters. That’s what he said in his email to you three weeks earlier. He’d heard a first-year student was running a fibrous material experiment and asked to tag along. And you said yes. Why not? He was faculty. It wasn’t unheard of. His email was so polite too, letting you know if you weren’t comfortable he understood. Pike. The name rattled a memory somewhere. So you emailed him back, and the next morning he sent you his itinerary: he would meet you in Tennessee. He’d even pay for the rental car.

You sent your advisor a quick text to ask if he was ‘crazy.’ She’d sent back the laughing emoji. No, she said, Marcus Pike isn’t a crazy. You’ll like him.

You did like him. He was waiting for you at the Hertz desk, and heat licked up your skin when you realized - he was striking. He was the type of man you’d make eyes at in a bar without any hope of even getting a number. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a softness brought on by a light scruff that didn’t hide his dimples. You barely registered that he was apologizing for not getting to introduce himself before flying out, but promised he was who he said he was. Even pulled out his credentials.

“Bureau?” you said to his badge. “I thought you were an associate professor?” You want to smack yourself.

Oh, “I am,” he replied. He dug in his wallet and pulled out a campus ID that matched yours. “I’m taking an interim year. I thought teaching would be a nice way to ease into DC life.”

Now he was here, sweating under the storm clouds while watching you unbutton A-0017’s shirt, and half listening to the director tell him all about how they kept the lawn looking green despite, ahem, fluids. You sternly told A-0017 to be on their best behavior while you pulled their shirt back to examine some fiber swatches stapled to his rubbery chest.

On the flight back Pike asked you all about your thesis plans. You stuttered as you began. He waited, patient. You were writing on how the FBI could contribute to cultural repatriation efforts internationally by returning art pieces. Do you know what it could do to boost scholarly opportunities? The doors it could open! Why put it in cold storage when it could revitalize movements? Art breathes, after all. You were exhausted by the time the plane landed. Both from answering questions, and from keeping a steadily building tension under wraps. You hoped he didn’t notice how you crossed your legs.

“I’d love to read it.” He handed your backpack down from the overhead bin.

“Maybe you should be my second reader.” You got serious when his face perked up. “I still need one.”

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That was nine months ago.

Your exams are in a week, and instead of thinking about preparing, all you can think of is that once everything is turned in, you probably won’t see Marcus again. He’s been your anchor these last months, and you’ve gotten used to his solid presence and encouraging platitudes. You cup your hot cheeks because it’s a dirty thought.

He lets you work in his office for a couple hours a week every week. The crammed little space is tight quarters, but he makes room for your laptop anyway. Sometimes you worked together heads bent for full time. Sometimes he read pages from your thesis, and you help him grade some papers from his first-year art history course. And sometimes you drink three pm coffee together and don’t work at all. It’s your favorite time of the week. The glow his praise gives you is embarrassing. And he’s an easy companion - nope, colleague. Your heart beats and your mouth waters every time you’re fifteen feet from his office door. The cold door knob jolts you took. You harbor a secret. Keep it warm in your belly. It swirls hungrily deep in you.

But now it’s a problem. You’re so distracted. Every time you leave his office, you’re tense from want. Your body is already over-caffeinated and achy from sitting in hard library chairs so long. But you keep going. Every time an anxious heat lights up the alarms in your head your instinct is to ask him what to do. You have to rest your hands in your head and remind yourself: he isn’t your babysitter, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have boundless time to tell you what to do. You have to figure it out yourself. Even if you really just want him to tell you what this or that section needs, is the title here misleading, is it lunch time, do you think the tone here is condescending?

What do you think? What do you want it to look like?

You think you want to grab his dumb button down collars and bite his lip. You want it to look flushed and tousled and desperate. You want to ride him in his reading chair with the door locked. It just isn’t fair.

The night before your first exam you take z-quil, drink lavender tea, and read a chapter of your favorite book to relax. Your phone buzzes at nine. It’s Marcus: good luck! You’re going to do great! Well. Better take some more Z-quill now that your heart is palpitating.

You pass both tests in excellent standing - MS in International Relations: complete. Pike attends the oral exam. Your skin goes hot when he smiles at you when the committee declares you exceed expectations. He invites you for a celebratory drink in the next couple days, which means you have two days to sternly wrangle your crush back into the dirty corner she came from.

You fail miserably.

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“Look,” he says, setting his beer down on the glass bar counter. “I know it’s not my business, but you still look stressed out. Are your grades bothering you?”

The rim of your gin and tonic is wet with condensation from where your finger circles it. “No, they’re great.”

He bumps your shoulder with his. “Then what’s the damage? You’re jumpier than a…” he trails off thinking a good metaphor. He squints at you a little.

“A virgin at a prison rodeo?” you supply. He inhales sharply, eyes wide. “You can laugh.”

“I didn’t know you watched ‘The Golden Girls,” he says. His tone is admiring. “I was going to say jumpier than a graduate student giving their defense.” You purse your lips when he raises his eyebrows at you. “Can I help at all?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he takes another sip of his beer. The soft orange lights in the bar spill around his jaw and throat, they flicker in his irises. His face in three quarter profile is august. You’re utterly exhausted from the polite ‘student mentor’ dance you’ve had to do for months while keeping your desire at bay. And more than that, you didn’t want to answer. You wanted to show him and let him decide. The sultry washboard and piano music give you that last boost.

You make sure he’s watching you, then you slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Then you wait.

Marcus pauses from lifting his beer bottle, eyes glued to your hand on his wrist. It’s petite against him. He stares at your baby blue fingernails pairing beautifully with his Stirling watch - and he feels himself harden.

All the skin on your body stands at attention when he meets your eyes. Everything in them tells you he wants you just as bad. There’s a hesitant curve above his eyebrow though. You get it. You were his student - he’s such a sweet man he wouldn’t even dream of using a power dynamic like that to get laid. Your breath comes in short heaves.

“The semester ended thirty-six minutes ago,” you say over the music. He takes a deep breath. You aren’t his student anymore. Not according to the school, anyway.

You want him to decide. If he doesn’t, you’ll go home and fall apart under your fingertips thinking about how hot it would have been to lift your dress and sit on his cock while wearing your thigh highs.

“Do you want to leave?” You nod, resisting the urge to bite your lip.

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Marcus’s apartment is homey. Streetlights flood the floor of the living room through the street facing windows. You turn this way and that to inspect the dark areas that look like bookshelves while he hangs up your coat. You squeeze your hands at your sides, because this is happening. You’re in his house. The hardwood floor is cold under your stocking feet.

You jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you, holding you a mere inch from his body. You bite your lip when his nose bumps into the back of your head.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You already asked me that,” you reply, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. You want so badly to tell him to tell you what to do. That you don’t want to make any decisions. Brain is worn out. That you want to please him, and not think. Oh, to be a freshmen simply sponging up information.

“I know,” he slides his hands to your biceps and turns you around. “I can check in again, can’t I? He cups your face when you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” you have to stop yourself from saying something incriminating, like mister Pike, or sir, or professor.

You clutch the front of his button down to anchor yourself when his lips brush yours. His mouth is soft. It coaxes you to open so he can dive into you, his tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you respond by pressing into him. You stay pliant under him, letting him lead. Your legs feel on the verge of collapse when you break away. You can’t stand it anymore.

“I want to suck your cock.”

Both of you freeze. For a second you wonder if you’ve given him a heart attack. But you watched his thighs on the car ride back and couldn’t stop thinking about kneeling between them. Your mouth waters. Marcus can’t breathe. He’s straining against his zipper. After your declaration he wants it too.

“Okay, honey,” he breathes. He brushes your ear with his thumb. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do that.”

He tries to draw you backward toward his room where he can turn on a lamp and properly pay tribute to your body, but you pull him back. You tug him to his mid-century armchair - he has the twin to it in his office. His mouth goes dry. You have to know. He looks into your face, and from the way you’ve averted your eyes, you know.

“Please?” you say. It sounds like a sob.

From this close you can smell the vanilla and bergamot of his soap. He sits, waiting for you. When you don’t move he holds his hand out for you to take.

“Come here, honey,” he draws you close. The top of your dress swings a little and he groans when he sees the break of your dress to what he thought were tights. Marcus studies your face in the second hand street light - your mouth parted, your eyes blown wide. Your hand in his is hot. “Hey, if this is overwhelming, or not what you want-”

“It is,” you correct him.

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” he requests. You feel pained. If you don’t say it now you never will.

“Tell me what to do.” Your head aches from the stress of carrying it for so long. “I’ve had to make my own decisions for months, and I don’t want to anymore. Just - for five minutes-” you bring your hands to your cheeks and press them against your hot skin. You watch as he realizes what you want. He nods in slow motion.

“Okay,” he says. “Kneel for me.” He gets even harder when you sink to your knees. Your hands rest in your lap. Waiting. He can’t believe this is happening. Thank goodness he’s going back to the Bureau in three months. He couldn’t face the other faculty - fuck, your advisor - after this. Leaning forward he cups your chin and kisses you. You squeeze your thighs together. He kisses your ear and says lowly, “take my cock out, honey. I want you to suck me off.”

When you take him in your mouth as far as you can, you look into his face. His mouth has fallen open. His ears have turned red from flushing. It’s indescribable. It makes your mouth water further around his hard length. It’s heavy on your tongue. You move up and down his shaft leisurely, trying to savor it. Letting saliva run down onto his skin as your tongue works the spongy head. You reach up to work the base with your hand when he tells you ‘no’.

“Just your mouth.” Fuck. You moan around him as a ripple pulls from deep in your core. The vibrations of you moaning make him jolt and heave. For a few moments he apologies while you breathe deeply, then resume. You take a mouthful of him. It’s feasting. It’s mindless.

His fingers brush the side of your face, and tenderly cups the back of your head. You want to make him understand this is what you want. So you slide down as far as you can comfortably, and wait. Swallowing thickly around his length

“Fuck, honey,” he groans. He gets it, taking both hands and moving your head the pace he wants. You can tell he hasn’t been asked for this often. Maybe ever. You close your eyes and just feel. His cock filling your mouth. Aches forming around your jaw. Tears leaking out of your eyes from your concentration. Your pussy wetting through your underwear. Marcus pulling your hair. You swallow hard, then he stops. And pushes you off.

You whine in protest.

“I hear you, honey,” he says softly. His voice is hoarse. “Another time. I want you to unwind right now.” Your pussy clenches.

He takes you back to his bedroom and helps you undress. He lifts your dress over your head, and kneels to help you out of your thigh highs. One day, if you’ll let him, he’ll fuck you with them on, but he likes to see all of a woman the first time he does anything to her. He kisses the bit of skin above the waistband of your panties before standing to kiss your lips. Your help him push them down your hips until they fall to your ankles. The soft gasp he lets out at the sight of your underwear and bare body is nothing short of gluttonous.

“Lay down.”

He strips while you watch. He does it without taking his eyes off of you. There’s hunger in them. This man has an appetite, you know it. The fabric rustles pleasantly between the sound of both of you breathing. Far away, ambulance sirens blare in another neighborhood, but here in his apartment the wet sound of cars passing in the rainy street are the closest accompaniment.

“I want to touch you here,” he tells you, palming your sex and making you squeak. It’s so forward.

“Do it,” you breathe, and part your legs further for him. He leans in and kisses your temple, murmuring ‘good girl’ and you swear you could black out.

You’re already so wet when his fingers part your folds to greet the new territory. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” He sounds amazed. He tastes one fingertip before putting it back to tease your folds. “I wonder how wet you would be just holding it in your mouth while you read.”

“Oh-” a ripple works down your spine. He smirks. The tip of his finger brushes just inside your lips to tease your entrance.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you. You,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “relax. You earned it.” He rubs his nose up and down yours, and you nudge him back just as he slips one long finger into you. You’re glad he’s being sweet like this. It’s the perfect blend of firmness and care. You want him to dominate you one someday, maybe, but right here and now, the combination of his low voice and steady fingers is ideal. Marcus kisses your cheek and mouth as he works his finger in and out of you. It’s thick and reaches further than you ever could. You spread your legs even further to tell him, more.

Without removing his hand he moves down your body to lick your clit. He sucks and flicks it as he coaxes more wetness out of your leaking cunt. Carefully he pulls the finger out and presses his wet hand to the inside of your thigh to keep you open. He laps into you, covering the muscles with lubricant because you’re going to need it. You see his face just as he decides you’re ready; it’s contemplative, like he’s concentrating. Then he slides two fingers deep into you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so fucking good,” your voice crescendos. You reach for his shoulder as he comes up to lie beside you. His skin is warm under your palm. You buck your hips looking for something else, seeking, wanting-

“Stay still.” You still immediately. “Just feel it, baby. I want you to be ready for me.” You know what he means. His cock is thick and smearing against your hip. He was big in your mouth, he’s going to be big while pushing into you. His fingers keep moving while he kisses the tips of your nipples. When he takes one between his teeth and tugs you break. Your mouth opens, and your legs clamp reflexively around his wrist. Your pussy gushes around his fingers - you can feel it. You can feel how his movements change from a drag as a slide. He keeps pumping. He doesn’t give up until he’s sure you’ve felt every aftershock. He’d love to take his time and work a third in one day - if he can - but tonight, he wants to move on. After you swallowed his cock in his sitting room chair he’s been thinking of rewarding you.

You feel him slip his fingers out, and roll away to the nightstand. He looks back at you, and his eyes soften a little before he asks, “do you want me to use a condom?”

“No,” you say and reach for his bicep to pull him back toward you. He comes willingly. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean.” He smiles, flinging the packet over his shoulder. It makes you giggle, but it sounds hysterical to your ears. You watch him reach down and pump his cock with the hand that was just inside you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he orders. Your eyes snap open. Marcus crashes his lips on yours. The hand not dripping from your cunt cups the back of your head. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

His blunt head breaks into you, you lose all thought. He sinks further in, until you’re squirming on his length because he’s stretching you. You suck air in and will your body will stay still like he suggested for his fingers. You look into Marcus’s eyes the whole time, trying to tell him how good he feels. You can’t make the words leave your throat. He pulls your head to him, kisses your mouth until you compose yourself and lie still. Then he gets to work. The breadth of him stills you anew. For the first time in months you fully relax, hardly making a sound as he thrusts steadily. You stare into Marcus’s eyes while your mouth falls open as he slides into you, and listen to the wet sounds of your pussy and the bed frame creaking.

Then he starts talking.

“Do you know how good you look in those blue trousers? I want to grab your ass every time you wear them,” he rumbles. His pace picks up a hair, and he feels harder in you somehow. He drops to his forearm. “I love watching it when you walk out of my office.” You knew it. “And that damn cardigan you never wear a shirt under? Those buttons slip right open, don’t they?” He punctuates it with a deep thrust that makes you squeak. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Wear it over for dinner. I’ll bite your tits through it.”

He fucks into you harder, sending shivers up your spine with every thrust. It moves you up the bed until you have to reach a hand up and press back against the headboard. You clutch him with the other, looping around his shoulder to feel the muscles in his arms pull and tug as he moves in you, working you up to another release Soon enough, the coil in your belly tightens and he reaches to worry your clit with deft fingers. His eyes never leave you. You think this man could make the hardest fuck feel like making love.

“I need more,” you tell him. You’re too embarrassed to ask for what you want. A tear leaks out of your eye because his thickness is so good, but you want something else too. You always underestimate him. He grins because he knows - he’s a detective. He figured it out. He leans down to rest his forehead on your temple.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. You arch up into him, your breasts brush his chest. “Your wet pussy is so sweet. It’s taking me so well. Are you gonna be respectful? Gonna listen?” You have to hold your breath as your hips tense. “Be good and come on my cock.” Oh fuck. “Say it.”

Your voice is wet with joy. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl.”

Sparks lick up your back and through your cunt, forcing Marcus deeper into when you lift your lips. He slows to let you enjoy all your release. He kisses your neck, your jaw, your lips. Then when he hears your content sigh, he buries his face in your neck and chases his own release. He comes with an accompanying rumble from deep in his chest. You moan in return and lift your lips to catch him as he slumps, barely holding his weight off of you.

Water runs in the washroom as you tug the sheets back. The light clicks off, and Marcus appears with a washcloth. His dimple appears when you lean back and let him clean your tender flesh. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your hips, running his knuckles on the soft side of your breast.

“Stay the night,” says. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Hm,” you say, mock contemplative. You run your fingers down his chest. He preens under the affection. “I will. I feel really good.” Your cheeks tingle at the admission. He smiles wide and bright.

He comes back from putting the cloth in the hamper. You roll so he can run his hands the length of your side

“Thank you,” you murmur. He lifts his face from where he’s been peppering your waist with kisses. His brow is furrowed in amused confusion. “For being good to me. For caring about what happened to me.” You’ll tell him the horror stories your friends have from their college another time.

He sighs and cups your cheek. “I like doing it. You’re bright. Supporting you is a privilege. Especially when I know that brain is going to put us all to shame one day.” You could cry.

“I’ve liked you since the body farm,” you admit. He wrinkles his nose. “I know. Not very romantic.”

“I liked you since you thought my campus ID was more official than my FBI badge.”

“I didn’t think that!”

“Get some sleep,” he says. A wicked glint comes to his eye. “I am going to wear you out before lunch.” You wiggle to get comfortable in the sheets and he curls over your back to hold you to his chest.

Orange light peeks through the gap in his blackout drapes. You eye him over your shoulder then settle into the pillow. All the tension in your shoulders is gone.

part 2

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writing #the mentalist fanfiction #I took some liberties with UT's school of anthros forensics lab #it does exist #DO NOT LOOK UP PICTURES #IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DON'T DO IT #I AM NOT SQUEAMISH AND DO RESEARCH WITH CADAVERS #BUT IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DONT #DO #IT

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raindownforme · 3 years

Text

Crush

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader [she/her used]

It had been hours since y/n had started her stream. At the beginning of it she’d been working on the origins SMP and grinding at gathering supplies and resources while everyone else was off doing other things. A few times someone had popped onto the VC she sat in, Niki had talked while eating dinner and Ranboo had came to recount his day, but otherwise she had remained alone in the beginning.

But it had been several hours since then. Now it was 3 going on 4 in the morning. She sat curled up on her gaming chair, her eyelids just barely staying open. She was exhausted, but she was determined to stay awake until someone else started streaming. To pass the time, y/n had been interacting with chat and reading aloud donations.

“Hello?” A voice came through her headphones and she jumped, nearly falling out of her seat. “y/n?”

“Oh! Philza!” He chuckled a bit. Her voice sounded light and she began to yawn halfway through her sentence. “How nice to see you. What are you doing up?”

“Well it’s roughly noon for me and I was about to start streaming.”

“Ah. Of course.” She began to tap at some buttons, readying to move around her audience.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people visit me.” As the notification of Phil going live dropped, she sent everyone over with a wave. “Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza laughed again. “Yeah? And who’s somebody?”

In her stupor she giggled and winked towards a camera that wasn’t on anymore. “I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The man froze, watching his chat go by a mile a minute. They kept throwing names around, even if they didn’t make sense, and he knew this wouldn’t end up any where good if it progressed. “Is it alright if we talk about this later? Why don’t you get some sleep.”

She yawned and stretched. She slowly went to get out of her chair. “Alright dad. Goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The discord call made the familiar noise of someone disconnecting and y/n turned off her display. She went and slunk into her bed, nesting underneath the covers, and quickly drifted to sleep.

———

y/n woke up a few hours later. As she sat up the first thing she did was reach for her phone to see a missed call from Ranboo. She went to call back and he picked up almost immediately.

“You are so dumb.”

She groaned and wiped at the sleep in her eyes. “Can I be awake for five minutes first.”

“No actually. You’re trending on Twitter.”

She squinted, trying to recall anything. “Did I do something bad? Was it last night or....?”

“It wasn’t like. Bad. But it was last night. You told Phil on live that you have a crush on someone.”

She paused, feeling her face grow warm with embarrassment. “Did I say who it was?”

“No you didn’t.” She sighed and felt herself relax a bit. “But they’re trying to figure it out. You didn’t make it very hard.”

“Well I didn’t say a name.”

“Yeah so you let them pick from the six men your age who have been on this server. Like I said you’re dumb.”

She sat up and got out of her bed, letting Ranboo sit next to her on speaker. She went to her desk and booted up her computer. She pulled up twitch on one monitor and Twitter on another. Loading up the streaming site, she sorted through all of us Phil’s new clips to look for last night. She found it quickly and began playing it.

“Have you been awake long?”

“Yeah. But I had a few people come visit me.... Niki and Ran came by.”

“Aw you sound disappointed.”

“Well I wanted somebody to come by but I guess he was too busy.”

Philza’s laugh echoed through her monitor’s speakers. “Yeah? And who’s that somebody?”

“I can’t tell you who I have a crush on.”

The clip ended with Philza glancing wide eyed between the camera and his computer monitors. y/n sighed and looked over at her other monitor. Her twitch name was trending. She clicked on the tag and scrolled through countless tweets of clips of her and other boys from the Origins SMP. There were ones of her and Jack, her and Charlie, her and Wilbur, her and Sneeg, and even her and Tommy or Tubbo. She took the time to respond to ones of her and the younger boys, emphasizing that if anyone was going to speculate anything it wasn’t going to be with her and children.

“Ran, what do I do?”

“Ignore it? It’s not like you have an actual crush on any one right?”

She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ran..”

“Oh! Oh my god!” He started laughing and y/n could hear him fall from his chair onto the floor. He kept laughing as he got up. “Oh please tell me who it is-“

“No! I’m an adult! I don’t have crushes on boys.”

“Oh that is fake!” He kept laughing and y/n rested her head in her hands. “You know you might as well tell me who it is.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“I’ll black mail you.”

“No you won’t!”

“I’ll show Tubbo your number and he’ll leak it.”

“To who.”

“The discord.”

y/n rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah. When are you getting on.”

“An hour-ish.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Alright byeeeeeee.”

Ranboo ended the call and y/n sighed. If she told Ranboo who she liked, he’d eventually tell Tubbo, who’d eventually tell Tommy, until he told someone and so on so forth. They were teenage boys. It wasn’t a very lucrative group. And Tommy seemed to record with Charlie almost every week. It seemed impossible to get by without disrupting something.

y/n went on to busy herself around her home for the next hour or so, doing some cleaning and other chores that had to be done. When she finished, she made her way to her pc to begin recording. She wasn’t planning on a live stream today, but a recording session would still do her channel good.

As she sat to boot up Mojang, she pulled up discord on her second monitor. She saw the kids already in a call; Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.

“Hey boys.” She slipped on her headphones as she entered the call, but they were all yelling.

“DON’T YELL AT ME.”

“I’L YELL AT WHOEVER I WANT WHEN I KNOW I’M RIGHT.”

“ARE YOU TOMMY? ARE YOU RIGHT?”

“Hi y/n.” Both boys stopped yelling as Tubbo pointed out that she had arrived. “Ranboo’s live by the way.”

“Thanks Tubbo. Are you guys on origins?”

“Yep!”

“Great, I’ll be on in a sec.” As she opened the world, she spawned somewhere she didn’t remember. It was dark around her, like she was swallowed by obsidian. “Uhhh, boys? I might be stuck.”

“I told you! I told you I was right! Chat tell Ranboo he’s an idiot!” Tommy started yelling again as Ranboo tried to tell him to shut up.

“That doesn’t explain why I’m surrounded by obsidian. I don’t have a pick!”

“Well, y/n,” she looked over to her discord call to see all the boys had their cameras on now. They all sat with their hands crossed while wearing sunglasses. Ranboo had his full mask on. Meaning he probably had camera on for his stream. Tubbo cleared his throat as he kept talking. “We have some questions for you.”

“If I answer can I get out of here?”

“If you answer honestly.” Ranboo leaned forwards a bit. “You told Philza Minecraft you had a crush on someone, correct?”

“Yeah. Sure. Might I add you’re all immature?”

“Is this crush, a man? Hmm?” Tommy tipped his sunglasses downwards slightly.

“Yes. How many more questions?”

“You’re not done. Is it someone on this server?”

“Does that matter Tubbo?”

“YES.” All the boys shouted in unison.

“Jeez fine. He has played on multiple servers, this could be one of them.”

Tommy slammed his fist on his desk. “HONESTY.”

“YES. HE IS.”

Ranboo gave a fake evil chuckle. “So it’s someone we know. A man we know. A gamer we know. One of us.”

“Yeah yeah.” y/n quickly pulled up twitch on her third monitor, making sure that he wasn’t watching Ranboo’s stream.

“Now y/n. I’m muted on my stream right now. Is it Wilbur?”

“Uhh…” He was there. He was watching the stream. Whatever she answered, he’d know.

“Wilbur! It’s Wilbur!” The boys started cheering as she realized that she didn’t quite answer. But as long as Charlie didn’t know the truth.

“Yeah. Can I come out now?” She watched charlie’s name disappear from the chat. In her game, Ranboo’s character came over to set her free from the obsidian.

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“Yeah no worries. I’ll see you later boys.” She logged out of the server and scooted away from the monitors. She knew she made a bigger problem for herself.

She walked over to her bedside table, taking her phone off the charge, and went to face time Wilbur. He picked up quickly, holding the phone extremely close to his face.

“y/n!”

“Are you streaming?”

“No not at the moment.”

“Great because I fucked something up.”

“Oooooh tell me.” Wilbur propped up his phone in front of him and took a drink of something in a mug.

“So the children- did you see the clip from Phil’s stream?”

“Absolutely. Continue.”

“They went and cornered me into telling who my crush is. And they said you and I was distracted so they assumed you-“

“Is it me?”

“No fuck off. But now everyone thinks it’s you and even worse, the actual person was watching! He thinks I have a crush on you and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

Wilbur nodded. “Well who is?”

y/n pursed her lips, thinking for a moment before admitting the truth out loud for the first time. “Charlie.”

Wilbur froze, then scrambled to pick up his phone. “I have to go.”

“WILBUR NO.”

The line went dead from Wilbur’s end and y/n groaned, chucking her phone against her pillows. She rubbed at her eyes with her palms, deciding she might as well continue recording.

y/n logged back onto the Origins server, keeping herself out of the active discord calls. She could see that the three boys were still in a call, and Wilbur was talking with Philza. She rolled her shoulders back, getting into the mindset to record.

“Hey everybody!” y/n went on start the recording, talking mostly to herself about finishing construction on her house. It was quite a tall house, built of mostly stone and cobble, but she was still proud of it. The bottom two floors were reserved for storage and mining, and there was one room of entirely water for Niki. The top floor was a large spread patio frames in by dark oak fencing with a glass roof surrounded by dark oak half slabs. Her being a skeleton in the game, having a vantage point helped her snipe enemy mobs. It was also conviennent for attacking creepers to get music discs. She had quite the collection growing already.

“Okay so if I-“ y/n paused, looking over at her other monitor. In the main chat of the Origins SMP server, Wilbur had a sent a singular message.

WilburSoot: dress formally for an event in 2 hours time hosted at the Pubé

y/n took a breath, a bit nervous of what that meant, but still responded to let him know she would be there. In the meantime, she continued on her video, taking the 2 hour period to build herself a lovely garden area and an additional storage area deep underground.

“Thank you everyone! I hope to see you all soon.” She ended the recording and took a breath. There were 15 minutes until Wilbur’s event, and she supposed she had to dress nicer than her pajamas.

A moment later, she returned to her computer wearing her favorite sweater and a comfortable pair of pants. Looking over at discord, she could see most of the Origins SMP members in a discord call together, excluding only Schlatt, Technoblade, and SMajor. She took a breath, thinking for a moment, then clicked into the call.

“Hello?”

“y/n!!!” Jack’s voice screamed through her headphones.

“Sorry he’s a bit loud.”

“OI. AM NOT.”

“Come down mate.” Philza cleared his throat. “y/n. Lovely to have you.”

“Thanks Phil.”

“Before we start, no one’s live at all.”

She paused cueing up the game, her mouse hovering over the server. “Before we start what?”

No one answered. Quietly, she entered the server and made her way to the Pubé.

“Welcome to event of the century.” Ranboo’s character jumped up and down. Every one stood in the Pubé facing her.

“Alright. And what kind of event is this?”

“A ball! With food and drink provided by Philza and music provided by Tommy.” Wilbur’s character ran over to the jukebox in the corner to show her.

“That’s lovely, Will. Was I supposed to be more dressed up?”

“I think you’re perfect as is.” Charlie’s character jumped up and down. She paused, trying to swallow the giddy feeling rising in her chest.

“Let’s begin! Tommy, the music?” Wilbur turned the the teen as he placed the music discs. y/n watched everyone pair off, leaving her and Wilbur alone. Wilbur walked over to her, hitting her playfully.

“Hey Wilbur.” y/n looked over as the two went into a separate call.

“y/n!!! How are you doing? Enjoying the party?”

“Well I haven’t been here very long.” She held her hands closed over her lap. “Wilbur, I feel like there’s something going on here.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me?”

She sighed, a smile playing at her lips. “Fine.”

“Good.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe dance around a bit. I’m going to talk with Phil.”

They both left the chat, Wilbur entering a call of just him and Philza and y/n entering the main room. The music was still playing. Everyone seemed to have split off into groups, leaving her alone. She sat by herself, watching everyone mingle about. It was only her in the main call, leaving everyone else in groups, but it was nice. She turned her head to watch her second monitor, seeing Charlie move out of the call with Wilbur and Philza to the main room with herself.

“H-Hey there.” She watched Charlie’s small character bounce over to her. “How’s it hangin?”

“Oh. Uhm. Good I guess. It’s nice to see you back on the server.”

“Yeah I guess I haven’t played in a while. I mean I haven’t streamed that much either but I’ve been recording.”

“That’s nice!”

“Yeah. I mean I’ve been able to watch other streams though.”

y/n thought back Ranboo’s stream earlier in the day, knowing full well Charlie had been watching that one. “Right.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. I mean I know how you feel.”

“Oh. Oh no please tell me Wilbur didn’t say anything.” y/n rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her palms. Convincing the internet she was in love with Wilbur Soot had been a problem in its own, but Wilbur telling Charlie she had a crush on him? “Look Charlie I’m sorry I didn’t want him to tell you it’s just- god you’re so nice and funny and really cute and it’s a stupid crush I never wanted to ruin our friendship. I’m so sorry Charlie.”

The other end of the call was quiet for a moment, but then she head Charlie almost laugh. “You have a crush on me?”

The realization washed over like a tsunami. He’d been talking about the stream, Wilbur hadn’t said anything. “God no wait Charlie-“

“On me? You have a crush on me?”

“Okay now you’re just rubbing it in. I take it back.”

“You can’t take that back!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to.”

y/n paused, a smile creeping on her face. “Are you telling me that you have a crush on me over a Minecraft server?”

“You said it first!”

She glanced over at the camera on her computer for a moment. “We could have avoided this the whole time?”

“I- yeah we could’ve.”

y/n giggled, resting her face in her hands. “Is this our first date then?

“No!” She could hear Charlie suck in a breath. “I mean, let me take you somewhere better. Just give me a few days?”

“Days? That’s speedy isn’t it?”

“Okay Maybe weeks. But I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere. Trust me.”

“Of course.”

She could hear Charlie laugh on the other end of the call. “Until then, how much time do we have to make up for?”

She smiled, settling herself into her chair. “Charlie, more than you could ever think.”

#charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #slimecicle x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp #origins smp

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hamburgerhelpersotherhand · 4 years

Text

Infatuation P11

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Violent scene description, death.

Notes: Wow, this seems really out of nowhere to post. Anyway 🤪 I don’t want this sitting in my drafts anymore so I’m going to let you all know if I edit it before the next update. Just... take it.

I spent the better half of the day looking over my shoulder as I worked. Candace’s sudden reappearance isn’t going to be swept under the rug just like that... she’s a dead girl walking and I’ve never been a fan of the zombie genre.

By the time I was counting the money from the cash register, Love seemed to have grown a smile. Though, I could still see the sleep deprivation in her eyes.

“Will,” She leaned forward on the counter, perching her head up on her hand. “could we do something tonight?”

At that moment, I really wish I could’ve said yes. But... I couldn’t afford to get distracted.

“Maybe another night? I’m...” I thought quickly, placing coins down and counting.

“We need to talk.” She leans forward to catch my sight. About what exactly, I want to ask but before I can even get a word out, Forty walks in with his mouth open.

“Will, would you be a doll and help me with something.”

I don’t say anything, only thinking to myself: why here and now? Forty has some of the worst timing... and then I spot Candace. Right behind Forty, with a white smile I hated to see.

“Oh, Will. This is Amy.” Love gestures toward Candace and my stomach turns and probably does some flips while it’s at it. If I wasn’t so used to staring into the face of death, I would of probably thrown up by now.

But, there’s no way.

“She’s Y/N’s friend.” Forty finishes. I bite the inside of my cheek. No fucking way she’s here unprompted. I’ve been so incredibly meticulous about everything including my online presence.

I look to Love’s face and she seems to spot something.

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale.” What? She’s not going to ask if I’ve seen a ghost?

“Yeah— no, yeah. I’m alright.” I smile wide, wiping my brow as I do. “It’s just—“ I turn to ‘Amy’. “Is Y/N still in town?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.” She looks me in the eye. For a moment, I feel myself crack under the pressure.

Hold me back, I might just kill her now.

“What do you mean?” Love looks to her.

“I was supposed to pick her up the other day, but she hasn’t responded to my messages since.” Candace looks at me with those dead soulless eyes of hers.

So, she’s the mysterious driver. When did she start driving that type of car? Since she’s decided to pursue a career in stealthily ruining my life?

What the fuck am I going to do about her and what the hell am I going to do about you?

“Will,” Love suddenly says, bringing the conversation back and snapping me out of my thoughts. “didn’t you see Y/N?”

“Y— no. No, I know it was late by the time I got there, but I passed a bus on my way.” I remember the way your soft face felt in my hand. “Could she have taken public transport? Maybe a cab?”

“I highly doubt it.” Candace replies immediately. I’m sweating, but I’m trying not to lose my cool.

I finally finish sorting through the change, no doubt making some mistakes. But with that done and out of my way, I need an excuse to slip through the cracks.

“Listen, I’m sure she’s just disappearing again. You’ve told me she’s done it before, I don’t see why she wouldn’t do it again.”

Love shifts around, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m calling Lucy.”

And there she goes. Love leaves the room after her statement, and I know she’s feeling worse. Why did you even bother coming back? You’ve literally disrupted everything in our lives... it’s going to be difficult to fix, Y/N. There’s no simple way around this, we just have to make it through alive.

Love remained in another room at Anavrin until it closed and the street lights turned on. She quietly spoke into her phone, observing the floor pathetically.

She spoke with Lucy openly, though she avoided the topic of your sudden disappearance.

The conversation eventually dies down, and she says her goodbyes.

“I need to show you something.”

Love sets down her phone and looks to Amy. She hadn’t noticed her enter the room.

“You surprised me. What is it?”

She continues once Love’s attention is on her. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but do you mind if we discuss it in the car?”

And just as expected, Forty’s one-off comment about needing help wasn’t easily forgotten by himself. I was dragged out of Anavrin rather quickly. Though, in a way, I appreciated the easy excuse to get away from such a venemous snake as Candace.

Forty never let up, no matter how obvious I made my lack of care, he remained just as motivated and just as annoying.

“Listen, this is probably my most prestigious and ambitious project to date.” Forty’s arm swings itself over my shoulder, bringing me in as he repeats the same garbage he always does. I’m glad to see that spirit remains.

“They’re wanting to make it into a movie, can you believe that?” Forty’s arm lifts itself, only to fall down on my shoulder like a pat on the back.

“I’d love it if you could... you know... help me out. A genius writer isn’t a genius without their ghost writers!”

That’s... not what that is, but I get his point.

When I looked at him, his eyes were wide and his bottom lip stuck out comically. He was pouting? No, it’s more of a puppy dog look. The lazy man’s pretty please.

I should have time for this, even if I’d rather stop by the nearest gas station and get you dinner.

“Earth to Will, I need you focused!”

Love wraps her arms around herself, feeling very out of place.

Amy continues to fumble with the lock, until she hears a click. She perks up and gives Love a nod.

The storage lockers were easy to access, surprisingly so. But none of this felt right.

“Wait.” Love says suddenly, halting all movement. “I don’t want to do this.”

“But you’re just a door away. Please, Love, you’ll want to see this side of him.” Amy pleas.

What side of him? The side that owns this locker she so happened to know about?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care for it either.” Love says, though she looks unsure of herself as she fiddles with her bag. Perhaps a part of her would rather be unaware of something as vile as Any had dared describe in the car.

“Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Thats coming from someone with bold claims.” Love retorts. She catches herself for a moment, seeing a glimpse of someone she repressed long ago. She’s not that person anymore, she swore to herself she never would be.

Despite Love’s reluctance, Amy lifts the door up and pockets her bobby pin.

Hearing the doors roll up, you had expected Joe to step in. But he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you jumped at the image of Love and Amy, pinching yourself to truly believe they were really standing there.

You wanted to speak, to shout, to cry out... but your voice was far too gone. Your throat was hoarse and bone-dry.

“Oh my god.” Amy hurried, observing you inside the glass box. “You’re still alive— she’s still alive!”

Love remained silent, her jaw hung open in utter disbelief. Will... Will had told her you left.

He lied? Or Amy isn’t who she says she is.

But why would he? It... it must’ve been for a good reason, right? Will isn’t this kind of person, right? Maybe— maybe he got himself into something. Love clutched her keys between her fingers, her knuckles turning white as she focused her burning stare into the back of Amy’s head.

“Y/N. Can you hear me?” She says, hitting the glass.

You’re barely responsive, a mixture of dehydration and lack of nutrition hitting you all at once. The sheer excitement from seeing them took a lot out of you.

“We’ll get you out of there.” Amy states, turning her head to face Love.

Love jumps at her sudden movement, grip shaking as she stares into Amy’s eyes.

“Help me, would you?”

Love slashed her keys in Amy’s direction and she tumbles back. Without a second thought, Love does it again, this time catching her straight in the neck.

For a moment, Love realizes what she’s done. With the way you began to pound on the glass and the look of complete and utter fear Amy is giving her, it’s kind of hard not to. Love stares at her keys, stuck inside the side of Amy’s neck as a thick stream of blood flows downward. She grips her own neck, holding tightly as her mouth puckers like a fish out of water.

Amy doesn’t want her to pull them out—the keys- and Love notices that. But she does. She yanks the keys toward herself and watches Amy slap her hands down around her own throat.

She’s silent, surprisingly silent despite the gurgling.

Love watches Amy hit the ground and crawl toward her feet, all the while a pool of blood forms beneath herself.

When Love looks toward you, you’re curled up in the corner of your glass cage, arms covering your eyes as sobs shake you violently. She didn’t want you to witness this side of her, truly. But even more so, she had never wanted it to come out again.

However, Amy was a threat to the three of you. Love knew you were locked up somewhere, how could she not? She knew that Will— Joe- had done this in the past, but it could be different now— it could be better. A private detective isn’t just for show. But Amy didn’t have to get involved— didn’t have to go sniffing around and finding your location before she could.

When she notices you peek past your elbows, she feels her gut clench at the sight of the way you cower at the sight displayed by her feet. Watching someone bleed out is hardly a pretty sight and Love understands.

Knowing full well that she can’t turn back, Love wipes her keys and drops the rolled up door.

#you #joe goldberg #joe goldberg x reader #love Quinn #love quinn x reader #forty Quinn #netflix you #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader

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yoichichi · 3 years

Text

To Call You Mine

college!tsuki x reader series

Ch. 1 - study buddies

warning(s): swearing, early early mornings 😵‍💫, second hand embarrassment LOL

a/n: ahhhhh!! Here’s chapter one of my first series!! I have the masterlist and details linked above but for some quick info: this is a college!au multi chapter fic about tsuki and the reader :) if you’d like to be added to the taglist let me know!! And as always I really appreciate your thoughts and comments n all that :) my inbox is always open!!! Enjoy <3 psps - don’t forget to check out the playlist linked above hhehehe

You’re not sure what woke you first; your alarm, the pain shooting up your back from the stiff cot your university has the audacity to refer to as a “bed”, or your own sour attitude from having to be up so early.

Five am. Five am. It takes a certain kind of sick and twisted individual to suggest meeting up to study at five in the morning. Although, you have to admit, it does take a different kind of person to actually agree to those terms.

Why, why, why, why, why.

Is the mantra you chant to yourself while you mindlessly dress and pack your bag, not even bothering to snatch a power bar from your nightstand for breakfast. Water will have to do.

You make an effort to click the door shut behind you quietly, not wanting to wake up your more than sweet dorm mate who’d surely be focusing on being just as careful as you were right now.

“Oh my gosh, don’t you have that study date in the morning sweetie? You should be sleeping right now.” Bonnie, said dorm mate, leans over the back of your desk chair to peer down at the page of your calculus ll textbook you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes. Concern is evident in her voice and her body language as she brings up a hand to gingerly rub your shoulder, hoping her small sideways smile will give you a sense of comfort. Or maybe even convince you to give it, and yourself, a rest.

“I know, I know. I just want to be prepared is all. I’m already dropping past a C at the speed of light and I’m sure my professor thinks I’m an idiot, hence him actually setting me up with a tutor, and I don’t need this guy to think I’m one too.” Your head falls in your hands at the end of your sentence, a dramatic groan feeling needed to really emphasize your point, too.

“Okay, just head to bed soon.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head before crawling into her own bed, using a storage container to prop herself onto it properly. She almost made you homesick with the way she doted on you like she was your mother.

You looked over and tapped the screen of your phone to see it read 9:14, not too late. You could reasonably cram in one more lesson.

You scoffed at yourself with the door fully shut and locked. You should’ve listened to Bonnie when you had the chance, it was just past midnight when you finally tore yourself away from last weeks review and decided to get ready for bed. Barely even four hours later and you’re up and getting ready to look at it all again.

You could at least appreciate how quiet the dorm hall was this ea-

“Mornin’, you!”

You internally banged your head against the wall at the bright voice that came towards you with such heavy and loud footsteps, how can someone’s footsteps manage to be so loud on carpet?

You substituted a hello with a gentle smile and wave as your R.A., who definitely didn’t remember your name - which is fine cause you didn’t remember theirs either, rushed past you.

Sighing deeply, you left the warm confines of the dorm building and stepped into the cold and brisk morning, starting your trek to the library.

He couldn’t have even chose a coffee place or something?

You had some, thoughts, about this guy. You didn’t know much about him, only two things.

One, his name: Tsukishima Kei.

Two, he was a good enough student to be assigned to you as a tutor.

You swallowed your slight embarrassment at the thought of your professor reaching out to someone on your behalf and instead chose to focus more on how weird this guy has to be.

Waking up before the sun rises on a Sunday was not something you looked forward to, you don’t think anybody would truly; especially to meet someone for the first time; yet this guy thinks it’s a great idea. So much so he didn’t even think to ask first, just tell you when and where to meet.

Thursday 4:14 pm

- ‘It’s Tsukishima. See you at 5 in the library this sunday.’

- ‘Oh hi!! Oh ok, am or pm?? lol’

Thursday 7:43 pm

- ‘am.’

- ‘Ok cool, see ya then!’

And that was it. Neither of you have texted since, which was three days ago on a Thursday afternoon. It kind of bothered you really, I mean, what kind of self righteous ass-

You took a deep breath and chose to think happy thoughts instead. You’d much rather be in a somewhat pleasant mood when you meet this guy than have some grudge against a stranger. And he probably talks different than he texts, right? You’re sure he didn’t mean to sound like a complete jerk.

You shook your head as if you were shaking away your thoughts as you started to walk along the path to the library. It was a fairly nice walk, about five minutes, and being alone was kind of peaceful on the way there this early.

Your feet shuffled only slightly on the cold concrete surprisingly enough considering the way your fatigue was starting to creep into your joints - but surely the cold wasn’t helping.

It was that kind of morning cold that stung your nostrils when you breathed in and tickled your cheeks and ears. It made your hands clench and unclench in your coat pockets, debating whether or not it’d be worth it to pull the cold metal of your jacket zipper just a centimeter higher in hopes of keeping your neck warmer. The morning fog leaving droplets on the synthetic material of your coat, making it squeak awfully when you moved your arms. And there was the dew on the grass that’d cling onto the tops of your shoe when you had to walk through it.

But the way the old fashioned light posts lit your walk and illuminated the fog kind of made your slight discomfort worth it. And by the time you reached the tall brick library, you could almost say you were in a pleasant mood, almost. And then you remembered why you were here.

You took one final deep breath as you reached the heavy doors of the university library. It was a grand sight really.

The building had its own separate spot on campus, towering at about four stories high, which although didn’t sound ginormous, it definitely felt that way when you had to climb those stairs to the top floor for a book you really didn’t even want. The brick with the foliage creeping up the sides to cover some of the lower windows even gave it an almost magic feeling when you took it in from the outside, it’s too bad that sense of wonder couldn’t be mirrored on the inside.

It was too quiet, especially this early, it smelt almost stale, and everything seemed to have a layer of dust no matter how new a book was. And the bathrooms? Old. Most stalls didn’t even have usable locks at this point. It’s arguably all apart of the charm of such an old building, but it’s not as charming when you have to reach out to keep the stall door closed with your fingertips just to use the restroom. And the water from the sink that never seems to get warm enough when you wash your hands doesn’t help either. Yet the water fountains are always too warm curiously enough.

You made little to no noise besides the occasional rustling of your jacket and squeaking of your shoes as they padded across the dingy off-colored carpet towards the back of the first floor.

There were various sizes of tables spread out throughout the space, few actually matching in color or style. The chairs varied less - but you could still find the oddball desk chair, or the chair with the wooden frame just a tad to wide to feel like a normal seat but just as evenly too small to be a bench.

Your heavy eyes surveyed the dimly lit space in hopes of finding any sign of human life when you finally noticed a backpack haphazardly tossed onto a table, still zipped open. Pens were splayed across the table with a single notebook, scribbles scrawled across the pages too far from you to be read. Not seeing anyone occupying the seat pulled away from the tables edge, you took out your phone to take a peek at the time.

4:58 am

Wow, I’m early?

Shoving your phone back into your pocket you began to make your way towards the (un)occupied table, debating whether a seat closer or farther would be more polite.

If I sit too close that’ll definitely be-

“Hey.”

You felt your shoulders hunch up to your ears and a small gasp leave your mouth at the way the voice behind you so suddenly interrupted your train of thought.

You turned around to come face to face with the voice.

“Are you (y/n)?”

Damn. He’s kinda tall.

Kind of was certainly an understatement. God he was definitely above 6 feet, 6’2” maybe? No, maybe even a little taller.

A single earbud was still in his ear as the other hung down and rested against his chest. He took the time to take the other out and wrap the cord gently around his middle and index finger before shoving it into his coat pocket, presumably the same one with his phone, in an effort to prevent them from getting tangled most likely. He took a deep breath and eyed you up and down before chuckling softly to himself.

“Okay.”

The tall man, who you’re now beginning to realize is Tsukishima, gives you a quizzical stare with a quirked eyebrow as he looks you up and down one last time, definitely judging you and your silence at this point, before turning around and making his way to a table.

Well it’s a good thing he stopped you before you sat at some other strangers table. You don’t think your heart could’ve taken that today.

You watched his back as he made his way towards a table farther into the back, closer to a window peering out onto the foggy and barely illuminated field.

Oh shit

“Oh, sorry!” You clear your throat and begin again, your own sudden volume startling yourself for a moment, as you double your pace to catch up and walk beside him towards a table,

“Um, yeah. Sorry, it’s a little early, brain hasn’t woke all the way up.”

Silence.

At the lack of a response, you decide to awkwardly laugh rather than wallow at the fact he didn’t even give a pity chuckle at your bad attempt at a polite joke to ease the seemingly tense vibe between the two of you.

Okay, well he definitely seems to talk the way he texts.

Clearing your throat again, you tried once more.

“I’m (y/n) by the way, it’s nice to m-“

“I know your name.” He stopped at the table and turned to glance down at you over his shoulder, the tiniest of smirks resting on his face with raised eyebrows, before pulling out a seat to sit in.

Yeah, maybe being quiet for a bit would do you some good. You’ll try again later.

Still trying to shake the embarrassment, no humiliation at this point, you busied yourself with taking out all the proper materials and waiting while he did the same. Sitting patiently opposite of Tsukishima, you decided to finally get a good look at him. Take in what you see and make some judgements.

He shook off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, showing you his wide shoulders underneath the simple grey t-shirt he wore. You didn’t fail to notice how the sleeves were cuffed, either.

Hm. Nice look.

Points for Tsukishima.

His hands and ears were slightly pink from the weather outside, contrastingly sweet against the paleness of his skin.

Kinda cute, in like a Keebler elf kind of way.

More points, you guess, for Tsukishima.

He sighed as he opened up the calculus ll textbook, adjusting his glasses with long and slender fingers before flipping through the pages. You decided it’d be best to do the same.

It was quiet for a moment too long when you thought it might be a good idea to try and speak again, but apparently he must’ve had the same idea.

“So, why d-“

“Thanks for-“

Cutting each other off, you pursed your lips as he gave you some emotionless stare, one of you waiting for the other to start back up again.

Andddd, another awkward beat of silence.

Jesus, this was gonna be the longest hour of your life.

—————————

AHHHHH HERES CHAPTER ONE - I promise the next one will be full of tsuki and tsuki content ok, I just had to get the ball rolling and really wanted to post smth!! I hope you guys like and please please leave your thoughts or anything in my ask box or anywhere!! I’d love to talk :D MWAH I also have little footnotes in my tags too :) (more like commentary but yeah)

taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know! And if ur crossed off tagging didn’t work!)

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trashforhockeyguys · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Me -19- Carter Hart

A/N: as always, all previous parts are linked in my master list. Also, umm don’t hate me for what happens at the very end. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE at the end as well, so if that could potently be triggering for you please be warned.

There was a moment, right when you first opened your eyes that you could’ve sworn you were a teenager again. You could hear Travis arguing with Ethan just feet from you, with the sound of someone playing NHL in the background. You felt so warm due to a blanket that someone had to have tossed over you at some point during the night. You wondered if you would see your house when you opened your eyes.

But there was an arm wrapped around you. So you couldn’t be at home. You were in Travis’s apartment. Ethan came in to help you and Kora move all of your things into a storage unit for the summer. He was going to stay for part of the playoffs. Carter was sleeping next to you. You’d both fallen asleep during a movie.

You wiggled out from under Carter’s arm, following the sound of the voices to the kitchen. Kora, who still looked half asleep, was tucked under Ethan’s arm. Nolan was playing NHL in the living room, yelling at one of the other Flyers through a headset. In your gut, you knew this was what a normal morning with them. This is what life should be like.

“Y/N! Tell him that he’s wrong!” Travis begged, pointing to Ethan.

You shook your head, still too tired to even start to get into their mess, “Please tell me someone made coffee?”

Kora stepped away from E, “I’ll pour you a cup.”

“Carter still knocked out?” Ethan asked as you sat down on one of the bar stools.

“Yeah, you two arguing woke me up,” You responded slowly, “What were you two arguing over anyway?”

“Don’t ask,” Kora handed you a cup of coffee, “They’re being guys.”

“They’re arguing over who had more points when they played together,” Nolan announced from the couch.

“Oh, that’s easy, it was Ethan,” You shrugged, “Travis had the most penalty minutes.”

Kora had to hold back a laugh at the face that Travis made. Truth was, although Travis was an incredible player, even then, he was still very scrappy. He made a lot of bad plays and often let his head get the better of him. Ethan was always more level headed, and was responsible for more than his fair share of assists. But when the two of them were on the ice together, nothing was going to stop them. You missed watching them together like that.

“Someone had to do all the dirty work,” Travis explained, “But I don’t get that many penalties now.”

Kora reached over and messed up his hair, “No, you behave now. Like a good little feisty Canadian.”

“Careful, he bites when provoked,” Carter joked, finally seeming to have woken up.

“Better watch it, we have practice in a couple of hours, I won’t take it easy on you,” Travis warned.

“Okay Teeks, sure,” Carter kissed the top of your head, “Morning babe.”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you tilted your head to look up at him. This was something you could really get used to, all of you being together like this. You and Kora had to move out of the dorm, since the year was finally over. So Travis was letting her and Ethan crash at his place, while you stayed with Carter. Although, last night all of you ended up over here to watch movies and eat pizza. Nolan casually reminded everyone that pizza was not a part of the approved playoff diet.

“Sleep okay?” Carter asked you, taking a sip of your coffee.

You nodded and leaned back into him, “Out like a light.”

Carter wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head so his chin rested on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek, causing you to smile. Across from you, both Ethan and Travis were watching you with the same sort of fond smile.

Kora looked between the two other men, “Just say it, they’re cute,” She huffed, “Nolan, you wanna play me?”

“I’d like to see what you’re made of,” Nolan replied, holding up an extra controller.

The following night, you, Kora, and Ethan file into the arena, ready for the next game in the series. Carter was starting in net tonight, and Travis literally wouldn’t stop bouncing all day long. You made a joke that someone needed to take out his batteries. Kora held onto Ethan, smiling as random Flyers fans high fived each other for wearing jerseys.

“Now this is a good way to celebrate another year of hell being over,” Kora joked, “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”

“You two can have all you’d like,” E told us, “I’ll be semi sober so I can take care of both of you.”

Kora looked up at him in a way that you could only describe as love. It was weird, seeing your best friend and your brother like that. Yet, it made you happy at the same time. You liked the idea of them being happy together, come what may.

“We should get to our seats,” You told them, “Drinks later.”

“I’m going to be the only one getting drunk tonight, aren’t I?” Kora questioned.

Both you and Ethan laughed, knowing you weren’t going to have more than a drink, maybe two. The only time you ever really got drunk was with Kora, but you wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to watch every second as the game unfolded. You wanted to be able to run to Carter and hold him after the game was over, because who knew how many more times you could do that.

Kora leaned over to you once you were all in your seats, “You have that look again, are you okay?”

You forced a smile and tried to push away the sudden sickening feeling you had in your stomach, “yeah, I’m fine.”

But you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that you shouldn’t have come tonight. That you should’ve watched from Carter’s apartment. But you hadn’t missed a home game almost all season, and you certainly weren’t going to miss a playoff game.

Yet, every ounce of you was screaming to run, to get away while you still could. But you knew you were safe, Zachary wouldn’t dare come near you while Ethan was here. He wouldn’t really do anything in the arena, where all of the security knew you by now. You were safe here.

You tugged on the sleeves of your jersey, pulling them down so they covered your hands. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went through you. So instead, you pulled out your phone and looked at the last text Carter sent you, vowing to win since everyone was here. Your eyes seemed to stay glued to the part where he said he loved you and he loved knowing that you were wearing his jersey.

Although he laughed about it at first, somehow knowing that the jersey on your back was actually his old one, and not just one you got from the team store, made him feel different. Like you were really shouting to everyone that you were his, and he was yours. He often chirped some of the other guys about their relationships, but that all stopped when he realized how much he loved you.

Because the truth of it was, Carter could see a whole life with you. An entire future that was so bright and full of love and happiness. He hadn’t told you that yet, mainly because he didn’t want to scare you. But he wanted everything with you. He wanted a ring on your finger, you walking down an aisle all in white, maybe a couple of kids in a house outside the city one day. But for now...for now he was just happy knowing you had on his jersey while you watched him play.

You hold tightly onto Kora’s hand as the clock ticks down. Carter was so close to a shutout. How often could you say that your boyfriend got a shutout during the Stanley Cup playoffs? You were so sure that your heart would beat right out of your chest. Even E seemed to literally be on the edge of his seat.

Sure they were still a few games off from winning the series, but this would really tip the scales in their favor. For the first time you actually let yourself think about it. About what it would mean for Travis, Nolan, and for Carter. You could almost picture them hoisting the cup. Could almost see yourself on the ice with everyone, laughing as Travis attacked you. You could almost see all of it. You could almost see all of the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to want.

The arena erupted, fans were yelling so loudly you swore your ears were going to be rining for days. You’d even lost your own voice sometime during the second period. You spent the whole game engaging with everyone in the arena. You hadn’t experienced energy like that in years. You were almost willing to bet that you felt the same level of adrenaline as the team did. Honestly, you’d probably be just as amped up as Carter when you got home.

“He did it,” Ethan marveled over the roar of the arena, “He fucking did it.”

Kora nearly jumped on your shoulders, “My best friend is dating a goal god!”

You were in a state of shock right up until the time you saw Carter after the game. Then it was like everything kicked into high gear and you ran to him, you even jumped so he had to catch you. A couple other members of the team whistled jokingly as you kissed him.

“You did so good.”

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in your system, or the adrenaline from the game. But you seemed to forget every little problem you had. You forgot about Zachary, and the impossible decision that lurked there. Or the fact that you still had to pick who you were going to spend the summer with, if anyone. You forgot about all of it. All you wanted to do was be with all of them.

“Damn you look good tonight,” Carter joked, tugging on his jersey.

“We should go out. All of us,” You told Carter excitedly, “Like go get drinks or something.”

“You want to go out?” Carter asked, surprised that you were the one to even bring it up.

“I feel like dancing and having fun. Finals are over, you just fucking owned the net. C’mon, please?”

“Hartsy take the girl out,” Kevin Hayes chirped.

Carter smiled and kissed you again, “Well, let’s go out then.”

So that's what you did. All of you filed into some club that Travis knew about. You weren’t really dressed for it, although you did have a nice top on under the jersey, but you didn’t care. Not as the music seemed to fill your soul as you held onto Carter. He laughed and danced with you, both of you seeming to forget everything.

Ethan watched as you let go. He and Travis just looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them had seen this side of you since you were in high school, before Zachary broke so much of you. Ethan felt himself relax the more you seemed to smile and come alive. Kora soon pulled Ethan and Travis both onto the dance floor, insisting that all of you be together.

Hours later, so late in fact that you were pretty sure it was morning, you and Carter were slowly making your way towards his building. Ethan, Kora, and Travis all split off a while ago so they could go back to Travis’ place. You were still so giddy, happily talking off Carter’s ear.

He felt a sort of warmth in his chest. This was the person Trvais and Nolan talked about. He was finally able to see the you that Travis told him about for years, the you that was free. He wished he could’ve met her sooner.

“I want to go back with you,” You told him suddenly.

“Huh?” he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d gone from talking about wanting a breakfast beagle from the diner off campus, that certainly wasn’t open this time of the morning, to wanting to go somewhere else with him. His brain was hazy, both from the alcohol and everything else that happened.

“To Canada, if the offer still stands?”

You stopped walking and turned to face him. When you really stopped to think about it earlier in the night you realized that there wasn’t any other place you wanted to be. You’d be safe with him in Canada, you would finally be able to fully love him there. Nothing would stand in your way. It would just be you and Carter. Everything would be okay.

“God I love you,” He whispered before leaning down to kiss you, “Of course the offer still stands.”

“Good,” You pulled at his neck so he would kiss you again.

You really didn’t care that you were in the middle of a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night. You couldn’t even pay attention to the cold that was slowly working its way into your bones. Because all you could think about was his lips on yours, and the summer that now awaited you. All you wanted was that. You just wanted him.

“Now Doll, this isn’t part of the game,” You couldn’t pull away from Carter fast enough to find the source of the voice. But you already knew. You wanted to warn Carter to run, to get away. But there was a loud sound that made your ears ring again, but in a different way from the arena. And then...there was just nothing.

#Carter hart #carter hart imagine #Carter hart imagines #Carter hart fanfic #Carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #Philly flyers imagine #Philly flyers imagines #flyers imagines #flyers imagine #nicolewritesthings

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

[Chapter VI: Girl Talk! And...Uh oh.]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, angst (no smut this chapter!)

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn @dwaebinnie @gothmingguk @minniehohos @seoulicitae @delicatemugtreehairdo

Unable to tag: @kayannainsworth15

(want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

It’s been a few days since your date with Jisung and you haven’t seen him since. Was this something you brought upon yourself? Yes.

Dumbass...

You stared blankly at the ceiling, thinking about the last text you sent him. ‘Sorry, I think I caught a cold’? Why would you say that to him?! You were so focused on wallowing in shame that the sound of the doorknob twisting did not register in your mind at first.

“Y/N~! I’M BACK!” a feminine voice yelled out as you watched the door flung open all of a sudden. Forgot she’s coming back, you thought as the face of your beloved roommate entered your field of sight. “HELLO~! Oh…”

“Welcome back, Lia,” you greeted her unenthusiastically, staring at her without any expression.

“Girl,” she stopped, taking in the way your body was splayed limply on the créme-colored couch. “I didn’t realize I took your happiness with me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Ha ha.”

Lia closed the door behind her, dragging in her large grey luggage. “Looks like I brought your sense of humor too. Do you want me to go back to Canada to find it?”

Groaning, you sat up, staring at her dead in the eye, while she laughed at her own joke. She struggled with bringing in her suitcase while mumbling about ‘how hilarious she is’ and that she should do standup comedy. Once she had successfully hauled her luggage through the cramped hallway, she pushed it to the corner of the living room before walking to where you were at. She plopped down beside you with a bounce, moving the throw pillow onto her lap.

“So why do you look like...that?”

“Boy troubles.”

“Boy troubles?!” Lia said in shock. “Wow, I never thought I’d hear that from you.”

Taking her words to slight offense, you glared at her, pouting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just that—nevermind, continue!”

“Well, okay then... First off, Minho is a menace to society. Never go to a party with him,” you announced, adjusting your position without making any eye contact.

Your roommate chuckled. “What? Why start off like that?”

“It’s an important piece of information,” you waved her off, as if you were telling her to just listen and don’t ask questions. “So, I went to a party with him and Hyunjin a few weeks ago, right?”

“Yeah, how was it by the way?”

“Big. Seo Changbin is a rich motherfucker,” you deadpanned, snapping your neck to finally look at her. Meanwhile Lia laughed boisterously at your unexpected dryness.

“Anyways, Jinnie got DRUNK about thirty minutes later and Minho, being the dear friend he thinks he is, went off flirting with this dude with a red beanie, leaving me to babysit him.”

Lia interrupted. “Hold on, when do these “boy troubles” come in?”

You hushed her, covering her mouth with your foot. She swat your foot away from her face as you spoke. “Wait. I was getting there!” you complained. “So the red beanie dude Min was talking to, the one I mentioned earlier? I thought he was hot as hell, like if I wasn’t so busy dealing with a drunken Hyunie, I would’ve shoot my shot with him but nooo. Minho is a BITCH but it's okay, I still love him, especially since he’s the reason I have a thing now with that red beanie cutie.”

“Girl, really?! How did he do that?”

You sighed, jokingly scolding her, “Maybe if you didn’t interrupt me every damn minute, Julia, I would’ve finished my story faster.”

“It’s not my fault your storytelling skills are horrendous!” she huffed. “But sorry, I won’t interrupt now! Keep going!”

“Okay, so, after a while, I finally got Min to help me, which took like, another thirty minutes, I think? Then fast forward a little, that lazy bitch is driving us home, the drunk bitch is suffocating me with affection, and I’m just wondering why the hell those two are my best friends, but whatever. After Minho dropped me home, I wanted to text him to thank him for helping me wrangle Hyunjin, even though I forced him to, and I thought did, right?” you paused for a moment to see if Lia was still following along. After a subtle nod from her, you continued. “So I thanked ‘him’ then asked ‘him’ if he could give me that red beanie cutie’s number, which, to the total surprise of my dumbass, ended up being him.”

“Ooh...plot twist!” she randomly cheered, making you snort. “Sorry...I just had to add that!”

“It’s okay, that was the perfect commentary for that situation,” you giggled, adjusting yourself on the couch. “But yeah, fast forward again, and we’ve been hanging out, texting, and just recently, went on a date.”

“That’s great, Y/n!” Lia hugged you. She leisurely rocked you until she realized something was wrong with your story. She asked, abruptly letting go of you, “Hold on, why did you leave it at a good ending? Where’s the ‘trouble’?” Before you could answer, the sound of your notifications going off from your phone stopped you. You leaned over to see who texted you, picking it up.

(3) new message(s) from: Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

“Hannie Bear?” Lia giggled. “That’s such a cute nickname. Who’s that? Is that the boy you were talking about?” She proceeded to coo, shaking you around and making kissy noises.

You hushed her, cutely pouting, “Shut up, he gave himself that name.” You playfully pushed her face away, turning to the other side. You tapped on the notification banner to read it from your lockscreen.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: hey babe!

i noticed you didn’t come to class today either

are you still feeling sick baby? :( do you want me to come over?

“Huh? I didn’t know you were sick, Y/n,” Lia said slowly. You turned your head to see her looking over your shoulder, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Oh! Uh—That’s funny ‘cause—”

“Y/n, when was the last time you texted that boy?” You stayed quiet, avoiding eye contact with her. “Y/n?” she said sternly.

You sighed guiltily. “3 days ago…4 since I last saw him.” you mumbled, with the fuzz on your socks.

“3!?” she gasped, “Text that poor boy!” You hesitantly unlocked your phone, bringing your phone up to your face.

Me: Yeah, sorry Sung, I’m still kinda sick :( bleh

Please don’t come over! I don’t want you to get sick cause of me

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: aww but i miss you :((

it’s okay. i won’t bother you now

just take care, okay? Get well soon!

i love you! ❤️

‘I love you’...There’s that stupid sentence again. Why does he keep saying that?

All of a sudden, your roommate pulled your arm towards her, forcing you to show your phone to her. She glared at the screen. “You are a terrible person, you know?” she commented after reading all your messages. You sighed, silently agreeing with her. “Why would you tell him you’re sick!?”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to ‘Hannie Bear’! Tell him that you’re not sick!”

You spluttered, panicking. “NO! He doesn’t have to know that I’m not sick!” You lunged away from her to move your phone from her as far as you could. Lia payed no attention to your action, a bit confused with your reaction.

“Then why are you lying to him!? Are you avoiding him?”

“NO! I—Y-YES?! I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE!” you yelled, chucking your phone to her lap. You let out a heavy exhale, rubbing your face while you laid half your body down. Lia got up, locking your phone, and walked in front of you.

“Talk to me, Y/n,” she gently said. “What’s wrong? He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you whispered. “God, he’s so fucking sweet and funny and considerate and—fuck. I don’t know…” She squeezed your arm, silently comforting you. You removed your hands from your face and sat up, looking at your sweetheart of a roommate with uncertain eyes. “Lia, I don’t know how to feel. I’m so confused! I think..everything happened so fast that... I-I’m scared...I don’t wanna fall in love with him. I don’t want to fall in love, in general. I-I’m not ready! I’m so scared that—”

“Listen,” she stopped you, moving to sit beside you again to wrap her arms around you. “I know that every single one of your past relationships weren’t the greatest. But that doesn't mean you should NOT fall in love with anyone anymore. I know it’s scary, but at least...try? And if you really don’t think it will work out, then please don’t lead him on like that. That’s just going to make the whole situation worse. It will only hurt more.”

You took a deep breath, calming yourself down. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Lia let go, leaving her hands on your shoulders. “You don’t have to talk to him today but please go to school tomorrow to talk to him, face to face. Deal?”

“Deal.” She brought you back to her arms, hugging you tighter and rubbing your back. You wrapped your arms around her figure with the same amount of urgency. The two of you stayed like that for a few sentences until she let go first.

“Thank you for being here for me, Lia,” you muttered into her neck.

She hummed, burying her head into your neck. “Of course. Whenever you need some ‘girl talk’, you know I’ll always be there for you.”

You released yourself from her grip, sniffling. “Welcome back home, again, Jules,” you grinned. “Wanna tell me about your trip back home?”

You walked through the semi-crowded halls, anxious. I’m getting a serious case of deja vu right now, you thought, quietly snickering to yourself. You gripped your bags closer to you, walking in a quicker pace until you reached your locker. Setting the combination of the lock, you swung the door open, digging through the small storage to switch out your books for the day.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You flinched, hearing someone randomly call out your name. Slowly turning around, filled with dread, you saw Seungmin and Jeongin walking up to you. Your shoulders slumped in relief. “Good morning, Y/n,” Seungmin greeted with a warm smile.

“Morning. Wow, it’s amazing to see you early,” you laughed, referring to Jeongin.

He scrunched his face then laughed. “I’ve been coming early for the past few days already. You would’ve known if you’ve been here.”

“Oh yeah, what happened to you? Are you okay?” the other boy asked.

Your heart stopped, panic surging through you. Why are you so scared? They’re not the ones you’re avoiding! You stared at the two boys like a deer caught in headlights. “Uhm...Sorry about the sudden disappearance but I—uh—caught a cold a few days ago.”

“Oh really?” Jeongin said. “I mean, you do look tired though so I guess that explains it, but good to know you’re good now!”

“Are you sure you’re even fully recovered?” Seungmin gave you a subtle stank look. “You should be wearing a mask, or something! Did you remember to bring some medication with you today? Don’t push yourself too much! We don’t wanna be responsible for dragging you to the clinic.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Thanks, Seungmo. I knew I could always count on you.”

“I don’t like getting sick, Y/n. Please respect that.”

Jeongin laughed. “I don’t mind!” he chimed. “Come here and spit into my mouth!”

“Jeongin! What the heck? That’s freaking gross!” Seungmin exclaimed in pure disgust.

You and Jeongin roared with laughter; Jeongin hunched over, laughing even harder when he noticed Seungmin taking small baby steps away from the both of you. “It was a joke, Seungmin!” he wheezed. “Don’t run away!”

“Stop, get away from me.” He swatted the younger’s wandering hands away. Seungmin clicked his tongue, “I mean it. Don’t you dare!”

“Aw, no need to be so mean! We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends share everything together!” you quipped.

“Not ‘everything’— Jeongin, stop!” Seungmin groaned, jokingly pushing Jeongin away as the latter started to rub his chest, laughing. “God, why are both of you so irritating? Gross.”

Your laughs started to die down when you remember a key detail. You weren’t actually sick at all; you didn’t like lying to them even if it was just a small one. Eyes scanning through the halls, you checked to see if there were any unwanted eavesdroppers. “Now I feel bad,” you said, “truth is, I—”

“What’s wrong?” Jeongin asked, stopping his annoying advances. Staring at their worried expressions made you remember that these are Jisung’s friends as well-- so that means they might tell Jisung about your troubles, especially Seungmin.

“I..uh—” your voice cracked, “actually, I wasn’t that sick—I mean, I was, i guess. But it was more of a… ‘mental health’ day! Yeah…” I mean, it kinda was though?

The two boys ‘aww’ed in pity. Seungmin was the first to comfort you. “Do not worry about it, Y/n,” he spoke softly, rubbing your back in comfort, “I know this month’s been busy for you, especially with that project Mr. Kim gave you. I think a mental health day was called for.”

Jeongin stepped forward, patting your shoulder. “Yup! Next time you have a ‘sick day’ call me so we can have one together!” he grinned.

“You know, you’re too eager to skip school, Yeni.” You narrowed your eyes, chuckling. Jeongin shrugged.

“No! It’s more so to comfort you at your lowest! I also don’t wanna go to school either....”

Seungmin scoffed, “There it is…”

“But it’s true! I do also want to be there for Y/n! At least I admitted that I’m also just lazy to go to school.”

The two of you snickered at your younger friend as he frowned. Seungmin tugged on Jeongin bag in an attempt to drag him away. “Let’s go now. The bell’s going to ring soon. I’ll see you later, Y/n. Bye,” he said, waving goodbye. You giggled, the sight of him dragging Jeongin the way he was vaguely reminded you of a dog going on a walk. You waved back to the two of them, internally giggling.

“Oh! Whatever you do, please don’t tell Jisung I’m here today!” you called out. They looked at each other in confusion, wanting to inquire about your odd request. Ignoring their puzzled expressions, you turned around to finish switching out your books. Finally grabbing your Environmental Science textbook, you closed your locker, fumbling with your lock to hook it back onto the handle. Getting a strange feeling of someone watching you, you looked over to your right, catching a glimpse of dark blue hair walking away from you.

You laid in the darkness of your room, the dim brightness of your phone bouncing off of your face being the only source of light. You were scrolling through your social media when a notification banner with a message from Jisung popped up.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: hey y/n let’s talk

You sat up in agitation, mentally debating if you should answer him or just pretend you didn’t see his message until you were ready. In a state of panic, instead of swiping the banner away, you accidentally clicked on it. Shit! you thought in horror. You already felt guilty enough for avoiding him, leaving him on read would just make you an asshole.

Me: Hi Sung!

What’s wrong?

You drummed your fingers against your blanket, anxiously waiting for his response.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: hmm...nothing :))

i just wanted to check up on you

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, clutching your chest; your heartbeat now calming down. You brought your phone closer to your face, thumbs typing away.

Me: Awww you’re so sweet Sungie

How was your day?

Right as you finally calmed down, his next plethora of messages sent you back into a panic.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: it was good. but...uhm

hey y/n?

just know, even though we’ve only known each other for a month, i still care a lot about you

if there’s anything that’s bothering you PLEASE talk to me, okay?

that’s all i wanted to tell you. take care, okay?

goodnight.

i love you

Your anxiety levels increased tenfold. Did he know? Feeling more guilty than ever, you read his messages over and over again with a heavy heart. I don’t deserve him…He really doesn’t deserve this!

Me: Of course Sung. Thank you

I’ll see you tomorrow

Looks like it’s time to face him again.

...You had no sleep, whatsoever.

The guilt and anxiety you felt from avoiding Jisung for the past few days was eating you alive. Why am I such a terrible person? You (not so gently) smacked your head into the wooden table, concerning the other onlookers in the library. You wanted to spend your impromptu free period loathing yourself before you had to see Jisung next period; alone. However, that plan was immediately shattered the second you felt a presence behind you.

“Boo!” someone whispered into your ear, slightly shaking you. You jumped, turning around to glare at whoever bothered you, only to see the smiling face of your best friend.

“Hyunie? What are you doing here?” your eyes followed him, watching him take the seat beside you. “l thought you and Lixie were gonna go to the studio?”

Hyunjin threw his back onto the table, resting his head on the table to match you. “We were but Lix left me to help some of his old theatre buddies and I don’t like being alone so now, I’m here! Besides, why would I leave my favorite person alone?”

You gave him a cheery smile. “Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Mhm! I noticed you looked kind of sad though. Are you okay?”

You scrunch your face with a hiss. “You noticed?”

“Uh? Of course I did!” he drawled. “I’ve known you for over ten years already, Y/n. It’s kinda hard to not notice something like that.” You sat up, grumbling, not wanting to tell Hyunjin exactly why you’ve been so weird lately. He sat up with you, now serious. “Y/n? Is this because of Jisung? Did something happen between the two of you?”

“No!” You boomed. Your face heated up in embarrassment when you noticed the nasty look some people gave you. Muttering a quiet ‘sorry’, you hunched over, leaning closer to Hyunjin. “Jisung did nothing wrong. Actually Jisung is a total sweetheart so there’s nothing to complain about him. It’s just…”

“What? Did you find out about the hentai he watches in his free time?”

“What? No? Hold up, he watches hentai?”

Hyunjin shrugged with his hands up, faking a clueless look. “I don’t really know if he does watch it, perse, but I did catch him watching a softcore hentai before.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Huh? Nevermind. It’s not important whether he watches hentai or not anyways.”

“Good. Don’t let that get in between your relationship! Don’t wanna ruin a perfectly healthy one!” he said with a slight chuckle. Your mood instantly turned sour at the mention of your relationship. Of course, Hyunjin noticed it right away. “Y/n?”

You sighed, biting your lip. “If i tell you, you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Honestly, unless you’re cheating on him or something, then of course I gotta tell someone, he’s my friend too. Other than that, I promise!”

“Okay, great. And don’t worry! I would never cheat! Only on tests though,” you jested. The both of you chuckled before the mood went serious again. “So, you know how Jisung and I went on a date about a week ago, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“That day...Jisung said the ‘L’ word.”

Hyunjin gasped. “The big ‘L’?! He said ‘I love you’ to you?” he queried, mouthing out the ‘I love you’ part. You nodded with wide eyes.

“Yup…A full on Kdrama-inspired declaration of love when we were alone at the park!”

“Y/n, that’s honestly amazing! Did you say it back?” Your face was sullen, slowly shaking your head. “Oh, really? Hm. That’s a little...huh.”

“He says it a lot too.”

“Oh yikes,” he lamented. “No pressure or anything but, if you feel uncomfortable with it, maybe you should tell him?”

“No, it’s not that I’m uncomfortable it’s just that— geez I actually don’t know!” you cried out as quietly as you could, slouching in your chair. Hyunjin pouted in pity, leaning over to pat your thigh.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself if you can’t or don’t want to. But I still think you should talk to Jisung about your stance in your relationship. You know he’s a sensitive boy.”

“I heard,” you sighed. “But I don’t think I have the heart to tell him exactly what I think about him.”

“You kinda have to eventually? Tell him if you want to make it official or if you wanna break it off. The sooner, the better; otherwise you’re basically just leading him on.”

“God, I know, Hyunjin! You think I don’t know that!?”

He patted your head in an attempt to calm you down. “Hey, hey. I know you know. I’m just telling you,” he whispered calmly. “Jisung is an amazing person. He’s very sweet, caring, fun, and honestly just the go-to person when you need a shoulder to cry on. Anyone is lucky to be with him!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know he’s all that. He’s nice and everything but he wasn’t someone I wanted to have feelings for! Jisung was just supposed to be a fuck buddy! No love, no affection, no feelings whatsoever, why did he fall in love with me?!” you wailed. “I was not supposed to fall in love with Han Jisung. To be honest, I kind of wish we never met.”

Hyunjin stared with a sorrowful look, knowing exactly why you’re freaking out the way you are. He was about to comfort you and give you advice when something—or someone—caught his eye. His eyes widened, weakly muttering an ‘oh shit’. You turned around, following his gaze to see…

Oh shit…

You abruptly stood up, mouth opening and closing, trying to find the right words to say to Jisung, who was staring at you with an indescribable look in his eyes. “J-Jisung! I...What are you—”

“I came here to look for some books for a research paper,” Jisung said. You tried to ignore how his cold tone sent a pang of sadness through your chest.

“Oh. Okay,” you awkwardly smiled. “I-I really like the new hair. Dark blue suits you!”

“Thank you...I remembered how you said you wanted me to try dying my hair blue so...I did it...to your request.”

“O-Oh, really?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he muttered, pressing his lips together. “But apparently you had a surprise for me too…”

“I— How much did you hear…?”

“Everything, I’ve been here since after Hyunjin came in. Listen. Y/n...I told you, if you had a problem, especially if it’s about me, tell me about it, face to face, instead of talking about me behind my back. That shit is embarrassing, you know? Being talked about like that from someone you thought you could trust.”

“Jisung…”

“I want to hear you out, I really do. But I don’t think I want to talk to you right now, ‘specially after what you said? I don’t think it’s fair to me.” Jisung’s voice was starting to grow loud and desperate, tears forming in his eyes. “I poured my feelings out to you; I told you I loved you. I knew it was too soon to tell you that but I still took that leap, cause I thought we had a connection. I knew deep down you felt the same— at least, I thought I did…I thought you’d say it eventually but not once have you ever said ‘I love you’ back, Y/n! Do you know how much that killed me? I thought I’d be okay with it but everytime I expressed my feelings for you but never got a response back, it hurt! It made me feel like I’m just wasting my time! I-I FELT LIKE AN IDIOT!”

Hyunjin stepped in, hushing the both of you. “Guys, I know this is something between the two of you, but people are watching now. You should take this outside.”

“No. It’s okay, man. I said what I wanted to say,” Jisung said, already making his way out of the library. “Goodbye, Y/n. Take care, alright?”

“No...Jisung, wait!” You forced your shaky legs to chase after him. However, Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, stopping you.

“No, Y/n. Give yourselves time,” he whispered into your hair, kissing the top of it to calm you down. You turned around and cried into chest, clutching onto him tightly. He tried his best to maneuver you both around to a more secluded area of the library, mouthing out a bunch of ‘sorry’s for the scene that was created. Finding a dark corner between the aisles, he carefully pushed you to it, lifting your head to see your face. You looked up, red faced with tears and snot running down your face.

Hyunjin reached into his pocket to take his handkerchief to wipe your messy face. He held the cloth against your nose, wordlessly telling you to blow your nose. Despite how disgusting he found the sound was, he resisted the urge to cringe, seeing how this was no time to act dramatic. “It’s okay, Y/n. Breathe,” he gently comforted you. He left the dirtied handkerchief on his lap and securely wrapped his arms around you again. He caressed your back, softly humming a sweet song. “Shh shh. You’ll be okay. Just let it out.”

You weakly stuttered, “I didn’t want to tell him like that. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t love him back, Hyunjin.”

“Everything will be okay, Y/n. Just cry it out first, then we’ll deal with this together.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings! This is my fault! It’s because I was a fucking idiot and let my fears get in between us!”

Hyunjin just stayed silent and hugged you tighter, moving his hand to the back of your head to tuck you into his neck. He played with your hair, knowing how relaxing it was to you. He went back to humming another song and held you until you were calm again. You let go of him, still sniffling.

“Feel better now?” Hyunjin asked. You shook your head no.

“Not really. I still feel like shit but not as much as before.”

“I mean, that’s still progress?” he tried joking around to lift your spirits. The joke only went over your head though.

“Yeah. Better than crying,” you agreed listlessly, wiping your nose. He stood up and held his hands out. You took them, hoisting yourself up. “Thank you, Hyunie. I love you.”

“Of course, I love you too, Y/n. Talk to Ji when you’re ready again, okay?” He led you out of the dark aisle to go back to your table. You latched yourself onto his arm, hiding your face.

“Okay. But for now, can you please just take me home? I don’t think I’m in the right mindset now to continue the rest of the day.”

“No problem. Anything for you.”

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A/n: i apologize for posting this chapter so late! as i’ve mentioned before, i did get a little busy so i haven’t been able to work on any fics. hope you all understand! <3 AND idk if anybody noticed but i combine chapters 6&7 together instead to somewhat make up for the late update, that’s why it’s a little longer that what i usually write! hope you enjoyed!

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids series #han jisung series #han jisung smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #Late Night Indulges

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moon-kn1ght · 3 years

Text

toes in the water

pairing: frankie morales x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: kindergarten should def be a warning, maybe also incredibly unvaried sentence structure? rated E for everyone :)

a/n: this is going to be a small series surrounding a single father frankie morales and reader who is a kindergarten teacher. semi-slow burning, super cute and will def have storage closet / after-hours classroom sex at some point. thank you @wyn-dixie for the beta and for quelling my anxieties about literally everything.

masterlist || tag form

Were you supposed to be using the kindergarten enrollment forms to sus out potential cute, single parents? No, definitely not.

But the process of going through the individual forms and comparing them to the database for possible clerical errors was tedious at best, and grueling at its worst. Sitting on those tiny kindergarten chairs, you and the other four members of your team of teachers had already rehashed all of the gossip from the summer, including how Jessica the first year teacher from the 3rd grade cohort had hooked up with that sleazy geometry teacher from the high school at the end of the year district-wide social last May.

“God, I remember when he was student teaching at the middle school,” Dora, your most senior coworker who had ‘been around the block a few times’ and also held onto every piece of gossip that circulated in your district for the last 17 years, drawled, “He had the grossest little rat mustache, you could hardly tell him apart from the 8th graders!”

The group laughs in response to that joke, always ready to make of the holier-than-thou high school teachers. “You know what?” Dora adds, “You’d think after so many years, I’d be used to these tiny fucking chairs, but I am not. I need a walk and a Diet Coke.”

“I’ll join you!” chimed Joanne, the second-oldest teacher in your cohort. The two leaders of your team left the room, leaving you, Claudia, and Andrés, the youngest teachers in the kindergarten cohort. Andrés and you had gone through your credential program together and had known each other for upwards of five years now as best friends. When the two of you arrived at Franklin Elementary, fresh out of school, Claudia had just completed her first year so she welcomed more young teachers with open arms. The three of you have been inseparable for the past several years now.

“Okay, pull out your stacks!” Andrés orders, citing your group’s earlier plan to use this menial labor to check for potential single parents. You were just looking on the forms to see who did not have both parents listed. It wasn’t a perfect system. And yeah, it was probably inappropriate but y’all were just messing around and killing time on this sweltering August day.

“I have one in my class!” you offer. “Student: Grace Miller. Parent: Susan Miller. Occupation: Landscape architect.”

“Oooo, intriguing. Love someone who works with their hands,” Claudia remarks in a silly, sultry voice. “I have one, the student is named Peter, mom is Karen. She’s an accountant.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. Karen? Yeah no thank you. Glad she’s in your class, not mine.” Andrés laughs and you join him. Kindergarten was just as much of a transition for students as it was for parents, and sometimes they took it harder than the kids. “Here’s to hoping she doesn’t live up to her name...” he continues, “Ooh, I have one! He's single dad--”

Oooh, you and Claudia purr.

“Rosalia Morales is the daughter of single dad Francisco; form says he's a small business owner,” Andrés presents this crown jewel piece of information to a round of applause from you and Claudia.

“Ugh, let’s hope he’s cute!” Claudia adds and the three of you dissolve into giggles as the older women return from their Diet Coke run.

—X—

Rosalia Morales was ready for kindergarten. Frankie Morales, on the other hand, was not.

The younger Morales had spent the first weeks of August carefully preparing for this new (and very important) chapter in her life. She carefully deliberated over decisions like what backpack and lunchbox to get from Target (she chose a matching Sofia the First set, so that it could be a topic of conversation for her and her potential new friends at school) to what she was instructing her father to pack in her lunchbox (no PB&J’s in case her new friends were allergic, she wanted to be able to sit at the same lunch table with them and not have these seminal weeks defined by the separation of Peanut vs Peanut free lunches). Rosalia was very meticulous, and she always had been. She was well-prepared to face all the challenges kindergarten wanted to throw at her.

While Rosalia had spent weeks preparing, Frankie had spent weeks dreading the imminent separation from his favorite person in the universe. Yes, he had sent Rosalia to preschool and pre-K but those had all been half-day programs. He would drop her off on his way to work and then pick her up at lunchtime. That only meant four hours apart but full-day Kindergarten was drop-off at 7:45am and pick up at 3:30pm. Seven and a half hours. How am I going to do it? he thought to himself.

—X—

At Franklin, they implemented a very specific first day schedule. Parents walked their kids to their classrooms to hang up their bags, then the students got to go play on the playground while the parents left. The older teachers designed this system to reinforce to the students that school = fun. Yes, of course there were always students who had a rougher first day, but it usually took a couple of hours for the fatigue to set in before the students realized how long the day (and year was going to be).

This system most importantly allowed for a clean break with the parents, a solid ‘goodbye!’ point that the teachers could enforce. But, always, there were some straggler parents (either loitering inside, near the front door or in their cars in the parking lot). The administrative team would let the indoor stragglers know that it was time to leave, but they would have two of the teachers go into the parking lot to make sure all the parents had cleared out.

This year, you and Claudia had pulled those short straws, so while the rest of your team monitored the early recess, you two roamed the parking lot with reassuring waves and “I’m sorry, it’s district policy, you have to leave the parking lot after drop off.” Everyone usually took it graciously—it’s like ripping off a band-aid, it’s better to just get it done.

You had almost cleared the lot of loitering vehicles when you came upon an older, red truck with a man inside it. His window was down so you began to speak to him a little before he noticed you, causing him to jump.

“Hi, I'm one of the teachers in the Kindergarten cohort," you say as you run your bare left hand through your hair. “Are you a parent?”

As he turns to look at you, you can notice that even with his cap pulled low, he has definitely been crying a little. “Hey, yes sorry. I’m Frankie Morales, Rosalia’s dad,” the man stammers, “I’m sorry, I know the policy, I think I’m just having a little bit of separation anxiety.” HIs brown eyes look a little bloodshot as he gives you a half-hearted smile.

You search his face and see no traces of dishonesty, this is just a man very nervous to be sending his kid to school. And a cute one at that too. Claudia called it, you think.

Before you can let your mind wander too far about this stranger, you have to say something. “Mr. Morales...” you start.

“Please call me Frankie. Mr. Morales is my dad,” he interjects nervously.

“Okay, Frankie,” you say. “I understand how nerve-wracking sending your kid to school can be. I may not be a parent myself, but I can empathize. But I can also offer to you that in my years in kindergarten, I’ve never seen a student not adjust to the classroom,” you offer.

“But I also understand that our anxieties can be irrational and don’t like when presented with things that might undermine them. So it’s okay to still be nervous or anxious right now,” you add. “Do you think there’s something that I could do to help you feel better about leaving school property in the next ten minutes or so?” you smile a little to help this last bit come off as nice as possible.

“I…” he mumbles, “I… I’m not sure, my parental intuition is telling me that something will happen in the middle of the day and it’ll take me too long to get here, which I know isn’t going to happen but… I’m worried that I won’t be able to be enough for her”

“You worry because you care, and I can already tell that you care about her a lot. Hey, like I said, our worries don’t have to be rational to get at us.”

“She’s just all I have, she’s the center of my universe,” he adds. With this, you can see the shift in his eyes, from worry to love. You can tell that he loves his daughter with his whole heart.

“Rosalia is in Andrés', I mean, Mr. Gonzales’s class, right?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I think I might have a solution, a little band-aid just for today,” you bid and Frankie looks hopeful. “This is very much against district policy so you have to promise not to tell on me.”

He laughs with this, and promises not to tell. “How about I give you my phone number, and any time that your fatherly intuition is telling you that something bad is going to happen, you can text me and then I’ll peek across the hall to Rosalia’s classroom, and I can factually assure you that nothing bad is happening?”

Frankie actually smiles, for the first time in this whole conversation, “That would be great,” he says.

—X—

As you knew would happen, the day passed without incident. Frankie didn’t even text you, which you felt good about. But also a little sad because you wanted to start a little texting thing with this single dad. But you knew it would be a little inappropriate, in your heart of hearts.

After all the students get picked up, Claudia and Andrés migrate into your classroom.

“Don’t you think the first day of school calls for a celebratory drink out this afternoon?” Andrés probes. He always was down for happy hour (and to be truthful, you were too). “We should go to the brewery down the road, they have some nice outdoor seating.”

“I’m in,” you state, “And I may or may not have some other good news..” you tease.

“What? What good news could have happened in a room full of 6 year-olds?” Claudia jokes.

“Y’all can’t tell anyone but I got the phone number of that single dad from Andrés’s class,” you say as quickly as you can.

Claudia and Andrés both break into shrieks with this news.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe our prowling on the enrollment forms WORKED!!” Andrés exclaims.

“He was nervous at drop off so I gave him my number but he didn’t end up texting me, so nothing will probably ever come of it. But still, small win in my book.”

Claudia throws her head back, “You deserve all the wins you get, whatever happens, we’re psyched for you.”

Later, during happy hour you check your phone and notice a new text from an unsaved number.

Hey, thanks for your help this morning, having this line of communication made me feel a lot better. Rosalia had a great day today. -Frankie

You try to keep your facial expressions minimal as you read the message. They don’t need to know about this, you think to yourself before shooting back a quick message.

That makes me so happy Frankie. Feel free to reach out whenever you need! About whatever :)

You add that last line hastily and hit send. I can thank this liquid courage for that, you think as you down the rest of your pint.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #triple frontier fic #slow burn incoming baby #my writing #di writes #oH MY finally something i'm actually writing instead of just talking about writing

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