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the-mandawhor1an · 5 days ago

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Searching for the stars pt.2 | Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Summary: You come to terms with the fact that somehow, a Roman general ended up on your worksite. You and Marcus develop a plan to get him back home, or at least to reunite him with his wife.

Words: 7.4k

Tags: Time travel; wet puppy Marcus; Reader is a little horny; alcohol consumption; a hint of infidelity; talk about grief and loss; death during childbirth; angst; heartbreak; religious imagery; no use of y/n;

(further tags omitted to not spoil the outcome)

Speech in italics indicates that Latin is being spoken.

Notes: Well well, part two is finally here. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first one. Marcus is back and he's here to stay (or not, he wants to go home to wifey, after all)

Comments etc. are appreciated, thank you to @rivnedell for beta-ing this for me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The next morning came way too quickly for your liking, even if you stayed on your mattress way past your usual time. The night had been very short and sleeping practically next to some stranger made your sleep anything but restful. It seemed you weren’t the only one dealing with the sobering realization that yesterday hadn’t been a weird dream.

General Acacius sighed in disappointment when he awoke on the couch. How he felt any kind of rested was beyond you, he had been tossing and turning and whispering his wife’s name all night, waking you up ever so often. To your luck, you could deal with little sleep as long as you would get some caffeine into your system.

Feeling miserable and Acacius frankly looking miserable, you had decided to bring him to your apartment. He deserved to freshen up a little and you craved the sweet salvation from this tiredness with the help of some coffee. Your guest was respectful and you had no doubts he would not do anything stupid in your little flat. After all, you could pretend like you had weapons all over your place. A remote, a laser pointer, anything.

Despite all the concerns for your safety, there was more you had to deal with. For example, you had to introduce him to a few concepts that were absolutely new to him, like the private bathroom you had. While in theory, what a toilet and a shower was, he would know, the way your accommodations worked was vastly different from the ones in his time. The toilet was relatively easy to explain, despite a little awkward exchange about the toilet brush that was in fact just for cleaning the bowl and not … the body.

With the shower, it was a different story. Hot water, cold water, playing with the handle to find the sweet spot and also… soap. In ancient Rome he would have been used to rubbing scented oils on his skin to get all of the grime off, and now it was scented soap. You apologized for only having floral shower gels, but then again, lavender and rose were at least scents he was used to. It was probably easier on his nose than any kind of soap for men would be. What did “active sport” or “cool ice” even smell like?

You handed him a towel and clothes you still had lying around from your ex, hoping they would fit, and then let him deal with the bathroom himself.

Seemingly, your little lesson in modern hygiene was enough, as he came out of the bathroom half an hour later, in your ex’s clothes. You’ve just finished making a simple breakfast, scrambled eggs and some bread, when he came over to you. The clothes fit. The dark t-shirt was a little tight, maybe too tight, as you could see the curve of his pecs so perfectly. Also, the grey sweat pants fit snugly and you did your best to not look to avoid blushing.

Coffee was ready and you filled some in your favorite mug, processing the sight of his wet curls for a second. “What’s this?” he asked and pointed at the mug. “Coffee,” you explained, he repeated the word and you nodded. “We drink it in the morning to wake up. And during the rest of the day because we’re addicted.” A second mug was placed on the counter, filled with a little and you handed it over to him. The mug suddenly looked tiny in his hands when he held it up to his face and sniffed. Of course, the scent of hot coffee wasn’t necessarily pleasant when one had never smelled it. When he took a sip, his face obscured and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It tastes disgusting,” he complained.

“Try mine,” you offered and handed your mug, which was about 50/50 mixed with milk and a little sugar. He took another sip and while it looked like he didn’t enjoy that one either, his face wasn’t contorted as much. “It’s better.” You pulled milk from the fridge and offered him some sugar. In the end his coffee looked to be 80 percent milk and a lot of sugar, but he drank it, so what did it matter.

“Sit down,” you ordered him to sit at the table and set down two plates with the egg and bread. It was probably something that was easier for him to stomach than any other food you could’ve offered. “Eggs and bread?” he asked and you nodded. “The coffee is enough of a adventure for you right now. And the clothes.” “They’re so tight.” “My last partner practically lived in these,” you explained with a shrug. “Where is he? Did he die?”

“No, he just left. We had a lot of arguments and he didn’t want to stay.” Before it would go cold, you started eating your egg. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to give you a bit of energy to think about what to do today. That was, if Marcus was done with his interview. “Why did you fight?” “My work. It was important to me and he thought it was cute at first, but he realised it was my priority and he didn’t want that.”

Marcus nodded and took a sip of his ‘anything but coffee’. It felt weirdly domestic to sit here and eat with him, especially so because he was so relaxed about all of this. Sure, conversing in Latin was weird, but it wasn’t like you were forced to speak a lot of Italian around here either way. It wasn’t too far off.

“I saw the wall. When did your obsession start?” When was the last time someone was actually interested in something you did? You took another sip of coffee and then you told him in short. How you’ve been obsessed with Rome ever since you could remember. In the beginning it just seemed you never outgrow the ancient Egypt and Rome phase every child had at one point. One of your earliest dream jobs has been archeology. Every weekend you were at museums, every family trip had to be planned around to see the exhibitions there. Once old enough, you worked in the local museum, mostly administrative work but it helped you with getting into contact with other scholars. Also, you could spend your breaks in the exhibitions and just daydream a little. When it came to getting a degree, you studied classical Latin and archeology.

During your first year of university, they found a bust of him. It was only halfway there, it missed the face, but judging by the armor they could tell it must’ve been a general or a high-ranking officer in the Roman military. A copy of said bust had been in your museum for a while and you were mesmerized by it. It was a little later, midway into your studies, when they stumbled upon the name Acacius so often that they were pretty much certain ‘the General’ was Acacius. You became so obsessed with him, a general that history had almost forgotten, and you wanted to be part of the group that would unveil the mystery about him. Your professors were so exhausted with your antics by the time you had your degree, but this incessant interest is what made you land the job as an archeologist in the end.

“Why me?” he asked when you were done with your little story, and you shrugged. “You fascinated me. In the beginning it was the mystery around you and your life, also the prestige one would earn from finding more out about you. And then more was found, especially your obsession with starlight, it just… caught me.” He nodded. “It was our little inside joke because of her name.” “I know… I know. It developed into an obsession, the modern times are so boring compared to the Roman Empire. But… look how far I’ve made it. I found your villa.” “and me” A mischievous yet so attractive grin crept up to his lips and there wasn’t much you could do, you had to mirror it. “That came as a surprise.” “How much of the house have you found? What about the rest of the estate?”

You got up to get yourself some water. “We’re still on the lookout, why?” His eyebrows twitched and head dipped down. “I had a dream about my wife…” and as soon as these words left his lips, you were reminded that Marcus wasn’t just a handsome stranger you had met yesterday and had breakfast with right now. He was a grieving husband who was stuck in a different time. “She called out for me and told me she was waiting.” “Did she tell you where?” “Where she was laid to rest”

You fell silent for a bit. While you had daydreamed about meeting Marcus before, this was real. It felt weird to just have him sit at your table, in your ex’s clothes, talking to you like you were coworkers. You wanted to help him reunite with his wife, but also – you didn’t want him to go. There was the man you had been reading about for such a long time that it ruined your relationship, and there were so many questions he could answer now. You left your home to be part of this excavation. And yet you didn’t know …

“We have no documentation where she was buried. Also, most of the cemeteries didn’t survive all of this time.” Guilt washed over you. Here you were, one of the most knowledgeable people on Acacius’s life, but you didn’t know where they kept Astra’s remains. “She was buried where I proposed to her. There was a very old tree on my estate. We would go there and look at the stars.”

“Damn,” came out of you, unable to stop it. Marcus was like straight out of fiction, it seemed. A hopeless romantic. It really made your heart flutter. “Pardon?” “My apologies. It will just be very hard to find a tree that hasn’t been there in over a thousand years. With buildings we might find documentation, but trees? I doubt any map we can find would have accurate plant placement.”

Again, his face contorted as if you had just declined his marriage proposal. “I’m sorry, I just miss her so much.” It stung. You barely knew him but his pain was palpable. With a sigh you walked over to your table and leaned in, stretched out your arm and raised your pinkie in front of his view. “Do what I do.” He did and you hooked his pinkie with yours. “I promise I will do everything in my power to help you find her. Your pain must be bad. I can’t imagine what it must feel like but your face tells me enough.” He flexed his pinkie just a bit and dear God, that man was strong. “It’s unbearable at times. I’d rather be dead sometimes.” Strong, and intense, it seemed.

The pinkies unhooked and you took the dirty dishes to put them into the sink. Marcus wasn’t done with the topic, however. Your promise to help was one thing, but he had something on his mind. “Can’t I help you?” He could, very easily. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t think about this myself. If there is anyone that would know about the layout of your estate, it would be you.” “How can I help there?” “We will get drawings of the ruins, and if you’re behaving, we can go back to your villa and look at it. But I need you to be quiet, don’t talk unless we’re alone.”

He nodded and got up. Just as he stretched, the shirt that was a little too tight on him slipped upwards, exposing some of his sun kissed skin. “Can I get different clothes before we go?” As much as I want to say no and stare at you for a little longer… “Can I leave you here unattended for a little?” “You can, I will behave.” “Promise?” He offered his pinkie and grinned. That’s all you needed for confirmation and you left for the shops. You had to guess his size, but judging by your ex’s stuff almost fitting, you knew enough, probably. One size up and you should be fine. Most importantly you got him some underwear because… the sweatpants weren’t hiding anything and you would unfortunately need to focus on work around him. You found some loose-fitting jeans and some natural fiber shirts. They were anything but cheap, but you were a little concerned with how well his skin would handle synthetic fibers, let alone all the detergents and softeners fabrics had in them. Thinking about it, it was a little lucky that he didn’t have any reaction to the soap you had offered him. Socks and some sneakers, and you were off on your way back.

After your return, he changed into a new set of clothes and you prayed that his poor, unpolluted skin could handle what it was exposed to, as there was no time to wash the clothes before he wore them, first. The rest of his clothes landed in the wash, though. His shirt, silky and almost black, had a little too many buttons and you helped him close them. You took the opportunity of being so close to him to give him a little pep talk. “Just stay close to me, okay? I don’t want you wandering around my workplace unattended.” Acacius was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you a little nervous, especially because you could smell your shower gel on him, and he was closely watching you fumble with the buttons. “I’ll stay close,” he grumbled, just loud enough that you can hear it. After all, why speak louder when you were right opposite of him? Your eyes wandered upwards and found his, and it felt like your heart sank right into your panties. His lips were curled into a one-sided smirk and it took everything from you to not squeak.

One less awkward walk down to the office later, you found the layouts you had of the villa and placed them on the largest table you had in your little container-office. Marcus leaned over the table, causing you to bite your lower lip for just a moment. His butt looked so good in these jeans. “This is what we have found so far,” you explained and tried to detach your eyes from his backside before he would catch you staring at him. With a few steps you were next to him, leaning over the table just like he was. Your head turned to him. “Please don’t tell me we’re completely wrong,” you added. You felt a little anxious because he looked at it for so long. “No it’s… close enough,” he mumbled. Close enough?

Before you could ask for clarification, his fingers traveled across the gigantic sheet of paper. “It was a short walk from the villa in this direction.” His fingers soon left the paper and you took another plan. It was a further zoomed out satellite image of the area and the rough walls of the villa sketched in.

Acacius gave it a look, his finger traveled the same path over and over again, but as soon as he came close to the buildings that were there now, he seemed confused. “This is harder. Everything looks so different and it’s so small.” “It’s okay,” you reassured him and placed a hand on his shoulder “You don’t have to know right away. We can go down to the ruins, maybe it helps to just be there.”

And you were there all day. You were sometimes even arguing with Marcus until you remembered it had been his house and his opinion was more valuable than any of your educated guesstimations. And upon further inspection, some of the walls actually looked to be younger, meaning the villa had been used after his disappearance and partially rebuilt.

Philippe had observed you and Marcus all day, ending the shift with way too many notes about the villa. Changes that were to be made in the floor plan. If they could find evidence to claim these changes on rather than someone’s opinion. At least they could justify parts of these changes just by the walls being significantly newer and this would also probably mean there was more funding you could get for this excavation.

This evening you and the general went back to your apartment. He was very adamant that you should sleep in the comfort of your bed, and your couch was a lot more comfortable for him as well. Despite your reservations at first, you brought some wine and two glasses over to the couch, where Marcus patiently waited for you. “I know it’s probably not the outcome you had wished for for today, but we’re making good progress. I brought some wine, assuming it’s something you’re used to drinking. It might be a little strong. We can water it down if it is. You did good today and I wanted to celebrate it a little.” You filled the glasses with the wine, handing one of the glasses over to him “Thank you,” he nodded and took a sip of the wine. You took your glass and did the same. Marcus had opened the uppermost buttons on the black shirt and you had changed into a cami top and sweatpants, lazily lounging on your couch.

“Do you think we can find her?” “I’m sure. I can’t tell you how long it will take, but we will. How’s the wine?” He took another sip and nodded approvingly. “I like it. It’s very sweet.” “Just be careful, it might be a little strong for you.” Again, he smirked, this time just a little less cheeky. “I can handle it.” You believed him.

“So, tell me about her,” you said as you leaned back into the corner of your couch, one arm on the arm rest, the other holding the wine glass on your thigh. Hearing about Astra made you curious. Acacius really loved her, you were sure of it, and you wanted to know what made her so special to him. It was heartwarming to hear about other relationships, after all. That was, until you remembered that he had lost her.

“She was beautiful,” he mused. “I returned from war and it was like any other day. I was out in the city and she bumped into me at the market. She apologized profusely and our eyes met. She was so gorgeous it took my breath away.” He looked over to you. The candles on the coffee table reflected in his eyes. “She must’ve thought the same,” stumbled out of your lips, causing him to laugh. At least you hadn’t said you agreed with her observation, because this was awkward enough. You had another sip of the wine. The awkwardness flew over his head, or he didn’t want to make you feel any kind of uncomfortable. He just continued.

“I turned into the biggest idiot in her presence, I didn’t know how to carry myself. Handling legions came second nature to me after being in the military for so long. But being around her… I felt like a child, careless and a little adventurous at times. I took every opportunity to talk to her until she showed up at my villa one evening.” He emptied his glass and helped himself with some more.

You were hooked and asked “why was she at your villa?” His smile became wider and he sat back “It had been two or three days since I had last seen her, it was a busy week. She came over because she wanted to talk to me. We went to my garden and looked at the stars and talked. It became late and I didn’t want her to walk back home alone. I offered to bring her.” It sounded so romantic and you were a little jealous. Would anyone ever talk about how they met you in such a loving manner? “And she refused?” “She kissed me and asked if she could stay.”

Judging by his grin, the outcome wasn’t hard to guess. “And she stayed…” “Yes, she did.” You could only imagine what he was thinking about when he grinned like this. You cleared your throat and emptied your wine glass, set it down on the table. Was he aware of what this was doing to you? You were both on your couch, you were drinking – he had his damn chest out and practically openly talked about sex. It was hard to shake off the image of him in the grey sweatpants. It was like you could almost see everything.

“What about your … partner? How did you meet?” Marcus asked you, possibly out of courtesy. He wasn’t really interested in your love life, was he? “I don’t think it’s interesting. We’re separated anyway. I don’t miss him.” Short and sweet, and such a diplomatic answer. Of course you missed your ex from time to time, but he never understood your passion. Incompatible, that’s what you were. “Is it normal to not be married in your time?” With a shrug you responded “it’s… not unusual. We get married later in life, a lot never marry.”

Marcus' reaction was expectedly negative. “Sounds lonely.” But you could reassure him “It’s not.” It really wasn’t. You had friends for your social interactions, and on desperate evenings, you had Tinder to remind you that most modern men were absolutely not worth the effort. Marcus seemed to be particularly interested in the latter part, as his next question struck you by surprise. “When is the last time you’ve been with a man?” You gulped and stuttered “I… uh… I can take care of myself.” Which technically wasn’t a lie, but you would rather die than teach him about toys right now. “Sure you can,” he took another sip and cocked an eyebrow. You motherfu… Was he flirting with you?

Quick, say something before it gets awkward again!! “I’m surprised that it doesn't bother you. Isn’t modesty one of the female virtues in your time?” He nodded, but shrugged shortly thereafter. “It was. But this isn’t my time. Do you want more wine?” His hand pointed towards your wine glass and despite knowing you shouldn’t, you agreed to another glass. Acacius reached for the bottle and leaned over when filling your glass with wine. You could see his heart beat on the vein on his neck, pulsing in the candle light. There was nothing you could do, you stared at him, so handsome in the dim light of the small flame. And so close to you. As if he had heard your thoughts, he turned his head to you, an eyebrow raised. You didn’t move, but neither did he.

Suddenly, the tension in the air was thick and you could make out his heavy but suppressed breathing. You watched as he leaned over, coming closer to you. One of his hands landed on the back rest, the other on the hand rest next to you, meaning you were caged against the corner on the couch. It felt like time was running slower when he leaned in and before you could react in any way, you felt his lips, kissing you ever so gently. Your hand was in his hair in an instant, pulling him in, tasting the wine on his lips. Reluctantly, he retreated just a moment later, and that’s when it also fully hit you: Marcus had kissed you.

All you could ask him was “why did you kiss me just now?” because it didn’t make sense in your mind. He had just told you about his wife and suddenly he was practically pinning you against your couch and kissed you. “It must be the wine,” he explained in a murmur. “My apologies.” After you had taken a breath, you shook your head. “It’s nothing. I told you the wine is strong. Don’t worry.” Still, you took the wine glass and held onto it for dear life. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to forget he’s married and just give into the urge and kiss him again. To feel the heat of his skin on yours, the ripple of his muscles and the sweet growl of his voice when he moaned your name. Stop it! You softly smiled at him despite your very dirty thoughts and tried to make the situation just a little less uncomfortable for the both of you. “The couch is yours, you don’t have to kiss me for it.” A sigh of relief escaped his lips. “Thank you.”

Acacius stared into the wine and swished it around, as if he expected there to be some kind of wisdom in the dark red liquid. “Do you think we can find her?” he asked. Maybe he wanted to remind himself that he was on the search for his wife. “I’m sure we will find her. All we need to do is trust in your memories. And we will need to be patient.” You meant it. You were adamant about keeping your promise, even if it took a while. The general was welcome to stay with you. It wasn’t like you weren’t majorly benefitting from his support. “Thank you again for helping me and stopping your work for it.” “We’re not stopping. You’re helping me immensely, your life is my work.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. How long had he been missing his wife now? How long did it take him to kiss a stranger? “How long has it been since she passed?” “In my time?” You nodded. Marcus sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “A week. She went into labor. I was getting ready to be a father, to hold my child in my arms and suddenly I was a widower, left with nothing but my grief.”

“I’m so sorry,” you expressed your condolences. It made sense why he had been so distraught when he showed up here. The wounds were fresh. “It was a girl and she was as beautiful as her mother,” he said as a pained smile showed up on his face. “I still don’t understand what wrong I did for the gods to punish me like this. What did I do for them to take away everything I held dear.” Tears welled up in his eyes and sparkled in the candle light. If only he hadn’t kissed you, because now you hesitated placing your hand on him to soothe express your empathy. What were you supposed to say? No one believed in the old gods for the most part, but then again, science was definitely not able to explain why he ended up here, 1800 years into the future.

You’ve been in thought for a second so you didn’t see him lean forward and cover his eyes with a hand. Only the single sob that came out pulled you back to reality. You put your wine back on the table, leaned in, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Fuck, he’s warm. “I’m sorry. I know there’s not much I can do to soothe your pain, but I’m here for you. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose both your spouse and child but it must feel like you’re dying yourself.” That was definitely making it worse, as his sobs came out in full now. You sighed, swallowed the awkwardness and hugged him from the side. A moment later he put his glass on the table and turned to hug you back. With his face buried in your hair, you let him cry, only stroking his back. “We will find her,” you softly whispered against his head while he still was holding onto you.

Whether it was the soft touches, your words or the hug itself, you felt his breath become more and more regular. No sobs shook you any more. All you could feel was his heart beat and his warm breath against your scalp. Somewhere in between breaths you could’ve sworn he had whispered something into your hair. You stayed like this until he decided to let go first. Your fingers were in his hair again, giving his scalp a soft massage as he looked back into your eyes. At least you had found the right words to say while you held him. “I don’t care how long it takes. I might need to find creative justifications for why our research is taking a different turn, but we will reunite you with your wife. And your little girl. I promise.”

After this outbreak of raw emotions, you both decided to pour the rest of the wine down the drain and go to sleep; separately. You felt a little conflicted because it seemed like your presence was soothing to him but it also made him feel guilty, as if it pained him to be around you. And you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You’ve sacrificed so much for your research and you were so fascinated by him. Acacius seemed so soft, so loving and gentle deep down. Sure, you projected a lot onto him, imagining him to be the perfect man to his wife. How often had you wondered if you would ever find someone that would love you like he loved his wife?

And then you met him, he fell right before your feet. To be fair, your first meeting had been a little explosive but Marcus was so understanding and frankly… he had taken your breath away as soon as you had met his eyes with yours; it felt a little just like he explained reacting to first seeing Astra – but you didn’t feel like an idiot in his presence, just a little awkward from time to time.

The next days you spent basically remaking all of the sketches of the villa layout. It was a lot of work, but you had a good feeling that this would help Marcus estimate the distances better. He was your only hope with finding the location of the tree, after all. Then again, without him you wouldn’t be in this trouble at all.

You didn’t mind. Marcus and you grew closer, working all day on the site, sitting in the office on occasion going over some of the other things you found, only to go home with him, falling asleep in your separate beds to do it all again the next day. You became good friends, you found a routine. Marcus was invaluable to your research and in return for his help you offered what you could. A bed, a bath, lazy sundays on the couch, and an occasional hug when his grief overcame him.

It wasn’t a lot you could offer, but it seemed to do the trick. The bad nights were rare and you would start seeing a different side of him altogether. Marcus was an intense person, no one could deny that, but he was warm and gentle, even goofy, and sometimes even a little protective when he felt you were uncomfortable. Whenever he was approached by women, which happened more times than you had expected, you helped out. It didn’t take long for him to learn some basic words in Italian and also some in English. He was a smart man, after all, and despite this not being his time, he adapted fast.

He grew to like black coffee. That was of all things the biggest surprise. The face he had made when he first tried it convinced you he was more of a cappuccino type of guy, but on some mornings you stepped out of the shower and coffee was already waiting for you, your roommate humming to himself while looking out of the kitchen window.

It didn’t register at first, but for a while it felt like Astra was completely forgotten. You and Marcus worked alongside one another like he was just another coworker that just so happened to live with you. Nothing further than the kiss had happened between you two, it wasn’t like you were actively trying to make him forget about his wife. Rather he would listen to your theories, trying to connect stories of other Romans that lived at the same time. And he would deliver the hottest gossip no one today would know about.

Today, however, was a different day. “Maybe we should stay home,” you sighed as you watched the rain drops collect on the kitchen window. You were having breakfast, Marcus sat opposite of you in the same dark, silky shirt, the top button undone. “It’s just water, we should get over there soon,” he responded with a shrug. He was right, but still, part of you wanted to just stay in bed today. Was it the rain? Were you a little under the weather? You’ve never been sensitive to changes in this way.

Something was off with him today, but not in a bad way. There was a pep in his step, so to say, an enthusiasm to work you had not seen in him. At first he was frustrated, nervous, then joyful whenever you could cross off one task of the sheer never ending list. But today, it was like he had just won the lottery. He was all smiles and giddy about the same old work.

“We should try to find it, I think,” he said as soon as you entered the office. He went straight for the coffee machine while you draped the newest revision of the villa’s layout onto the table. He laid down on the couch and recounted his steps, while you tried to mark the way down on your map. It didn’t have to be 100 percent accurate, but if you had a rough idea of what area to search, you could just go there and see if you could find Astra.

Did you ever think about how absurd this was? Absolutely, but Marcus was here and very real, why was it so unbelievable that his wife would be here somewhere?

You spent all day going back and forth with him, until you decided right around sunset that it was probably for the best if he got to actually walk from his villa to wherever he expected Astra to be. “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” he explained when you stood at the ruins, the warm rain pattering onto his shoulders, slowly soaking him and you. You took his hand and nodded. “I will make sure you won’t run into anything.” Marcus raised your hands in front of his face and kissed the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact. As beautiful as the thought was to reunite him with his wife, you knew you would miss this. Miss him. He was by no means romantically involved with you, but his whole presence, who he was and how he was with you…

It would leave you a little empty and lost.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him as he started walking. As he had his eyes closed, you could sneak in a few glances. He was so handsome and the joy that radiated from his face made him even more attractive. If only he’d be smiling for you. “Do you think this is it?” he asked, opening his eyes just a slit to look over to you. Of course, you averted your gaze and scanned the environment, making sure he wouldn’t run into anything. “I have a good feeling about this,” you confirmed and nodded. It was a lie. You had a bad feeling about this and that’s what probably meant this was it. He was about to leave.

If this meant you would go your separate ways soon, you’d better make the most of the time you still had. One question about today burned in your mind. “Why today? What is so special about it? You’ve been so enthusiastic about it since we left the apartment” “The rain.” “The rain?” You both stopped for a second. By now you were almost drenched, but with the heat during the day, this almost felt refreshing rather than uncomfortable. And no one could deny that wet hair made him look even better. You should really stop thinking about him like this.

“She appeared in my dreams again. She said we would reunite when rain fell from the stars.” His explanation sounded convincing enough, but then again “you never told me you had dreamt about her again.” Your voice actually sounded a little accusatory. Marcus just shrugged “I … must’ve forgotten. It wasn’t like it had rained before today so – it wasn’t important.”

Huh, not important. You swallowed your pride and you continued on. “Do you think the stars might be crying?” He sounded confused when he replied “why would I think that?” “Well,” you began, “the poem, think of it as a sequel. You might have proposed to her on a clear night, but maybe they’re crying because they’re saying farewell to their sisters again.” “How did you know it was a clear night?” “Stars aren’t visible behind clouds”

Marcus stopped abruptly and looked at you again. His curls dropped forward, droplets of rain running along the salt and pepper strands and falling onto your face. Did he know how handsome he was, even by today’s standards? Despite all the scars? His thumb gently stroked your hand and a smile crept up to his lips. “You’re such a smart woman. It’s a shame no one appreciates that. Thank you for everything,” he mused. His words touched you, he was one of the few people whose compliments felt genuine. “Thank you, general. I’m so curious to meet her,” you responded, squeezing his hand ever so softly. Only a few more minutes and you could stop lying, to him and to yourself. “I can’t wait to hold her in my arms again.” Ouch.

You kept walking and after a few close calls with tripping hazards, he stopped for the final time. “This should be it,” he said and opened his eyes. You were in a small alley, behind a house it seemed. “No trees here,” you said softly. Not like you had expected anything else. If there had been a tree in Rome that was this old, you would’ve heard about it.

Marcus let go of your hand and walked towards a small shrine on one of the walls that had gathered his attention. You stared at your now empty hand. It felt a little cold now that he had let go. “What does it say?” he asked, pointing at a little sign by the shrine, and you followed him to a statue of virgin Mary with baby Jesus. The imagery must have been a little painful to see for him.

You read the small inscription. “It’s a shrine of the virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, the… son of the Christian God.” You heard him mutter something, probably disappointment, or confusion why a virgin was a mother. “It says here they found the remains of a woman and a child when this house was built, so they put the shrine here.” you turned to look at him. “This must be it. We found her.”

And as much as it hurt you to know that Marcus would leave, the joy you saw in his eyes soothed your pain a little. After all, your friend had lost so much more than you would lose after he would be with his wife again. They could continue their life and you wondered what this meant for the present, for your time. Would history change?

Would he forget you for the sake of never letting anyone know where he had been?

You both heard steps coming down the alley. Marcus didn’t dare move and neither did you. As much as you wanted him to be happy, what about you? Could you be selfish for a second? He would leave you behind, separated from him by so much time. It wasn’t like there was much that held him here, besides the one friend he made.

The woman that came around the corner was definitely not his wife. It was an older lady under an umbrella, taking an evening walk or maybe going home, carrying a small bag. You and her exchanged pleasantries, distracting you for a moment.

“Astra, where are you?” he asked, as soon as his gaze was back on him, you saw the pain in his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. How you would’ve loved to do the same. “Astra!” he called out into the night and you flinched, startled by the sudden volume. “Astra!” he called again.

You heard some residents complain about the noise. You blinked a few times and afterwards looked at him, “Marcus,” you softly addressed him. “I don’t understand it. She said she’d be here, but there’s just me and … you.” He turned to look at you and disappointment left for confusion, one eyebrow raised. What?

“Are you crying?” You couldn’t feel the tears on your already wet face but you nodded, certain your eyes were tearing up because you would lose him. With a few steps Marcus was opposite of you, cupping your face with one hand and wiping your cheek. “Why are you crying?” “Happy tears” His head tilted to the side. “I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled. Marcus came a little closer, chest to chest with you, and his second hand joined in to cup your face. “Tell me.” How were you supposed to let this go without tears?

“I’m happy for you, or… I thought I was, but I –” he leaned in and shut you up by kissing you. You leaned in but at the same time you muttered out a “stop” in between kisses. He growled “no” and kept going. “Marcus,” you tried to get him to stop again, this time successfully, allowing you to take a breath.

“I thought we were over this,” you tried to accuse him of something, but it fell on deaf ears this time around. “You’re smart. Connect the dots.” His voice was so silky and you absolutely wanted to hate him for being so hot when you should be mad at him. “You’re kissing me here when your wife is about to show up any second to leave with you!”

“Carissima,” he stroked your cheeks. “It’s just us here. I should have known from the beginning when I first saw you.” “What?” “It’s you. It’s always been you. You have her wit, her heart… and her eyes.” He gave you a once-over, never stopping stroking your cheeks. “But the rain–” “As you so cleverly pointed out: Stars aren’t visible then it rains.”

And then it partially clicked. “The poem…” “Your eyes are the stars, and your tears are the rain.” Marcus leaned in and placed a kiss onto your forehead before he continued. “I was meant to stumble before your feet and fall in love with you all over again. And I fell hard.” “But you were so persistent to find her today,” you intercepted. Of course, you were a little overwhelmed with what was going on. Was he really implying you were some kind of reincarnation of Astra? He shook his head. “I was waiting for a sign that I was right.”

You raised your head to see him smiling at you. “Please tell me you feel the same.” It’s a little hard to process it all, but all you wanted was to give in, so you nodded. You had fallen for him a while ago, ever since you had seen the brown eyes for the first time. To confirm your gesture, Marcus kissed you again, one hand in the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer. Your fingers were in his hair, tangling in the wet curls. “Now it’s happy tears,” you whispered when he leaned in once more, forehead against forehead. He smiled warmly and gave you another peck on the lips.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked. Not that the rain wasn’t pleasant, but you stood here in a random alleyway when you had an apartment close. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” You offered with a grin. “I would love to. I love you.” “I love you too.”

#roll a trope challenge #marcus acacius #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

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saeist · 2 years ago

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there was an immense pounding sensation in your head the moment you woke up. you opened your eyes to be greeted by the sunlight peeking through the grey curtains– wait, grey?

squinting, (from both the headache and sunlight), you sat up from the bed. wrong move in your opinion cause now your head felt like it was being hammered down non stop

you scanned your surroundings. a king sized bed with black covers, dark grey walls with a 40 inch flat screen tv mounted on it with little to no decorations around. an office table and a tall shelf filled with trophies

that’s when you realized that you weren’t at your apartment.

you looked down on yourself to see that (thankfully) you still had your clothes on, although it wasn’t the same clothes you had on last night. instead, it was an oversized shirt who probably belonged to the stranger whose place you just crashed in last night. you carefully got up from the comfortable bed and began to wander around the place

the sound of your footsteps alerted sae, who was cooking breakfast, that you finally woke up. you take a peek at the corner of the kitchen that was connected to the living room. there you see a tuff of cherry red hair

“sae?” you called out, hoping the stranger really turned out to be sae

sae turns around with his usual stoic face. “yeah, it’s me”

“oh thank god” you breathe out, a hand over your chest. “i was beginning to think i got kidnapp-“ you cut your sentence short when your head started to pound again.

“there’s water and painkillers on the cabinet. you know, for the hangover.” sae says, using the spatula that he was using to point out his cabinet where he kept some advil.

now you’re sat at his kitchen island, waiting for his eggs and bacon as you try to recall last night’s event.

“soo…” you start, sae hums, an indicator that he was listening, “how much did i drink last night?”

sae turns off his induction stove, he probably just finished cooking. he carefully places down some eggs and bacon on a separate plate before heading over to you.

“you finished a bottle of cuervo all by yourself and even chugged some jaeger right after”

you felt your cheeks burn up in embarrassment. no way in hell you just embarrassed yourself in front of the sae itoshi last night. what’s worse is that you couldn’t even remember your actions. did you do something? were you dancing your ass out?

“did i… did i kiss you last night? i can’t remember.” you pinched the space between your eyes, unable to look at sae in the eye, who was in front of you.

sae continues to do his thing by placing down 2 eggs and 2 bacon strips specifically on your plate. he pauses to look at you with an eyebrow raised,

“you seriously can’t remember?”

(italics - flashback)

“okay, i think that’s enough for tonight.” sae deadpans, trying to pry your hands off the bottle of tequila you were downing in one go after aiku and sendou dared you to chug it down in one go

when sae does successfully pries it off of you, you retaliated by whining and doing grubby hands in front of the red head

“sae you killjoy!” you whined, stomping your foot like a child. gaining the attention of the rest of u20. you were already swaying, probably because you were now shitfaced drunk.

“what’s the matter, angel? under lashes senpai not giving you another shot, hmm?” shidou pops out of no where, his arm slinging over your shoulder.

too drunk to process who was with you, you also wrapped your arms around shidou’s torso to balance yourself.

“yeah!” you pout, trying to get shidou to give you your bottle from sae

sae rolls his eyes at the sight before him. he gives away your empty bottle of cuervo to some waiter who conveniently passed by. it was the afterparty of japan u20 vs blue lock. even though they lost, they still went out to celebrate anyway since it’s not all the time itoshi sae joins your soccer team and of course sae brought you as his plus one.

“hands off, demon” sae spits, and shidou begrudgingly lets go of you while complaining about how unfair it was that this under lashes senpai can get anything he wants

sae grabs your hand and drags you to one of the tables the team paid for and sat you down. he fixes your posture as you were still swaying in place. he takes your chin to make you face him. you do but your eyes are hazy. you can barely make out sae’s face but thanks to his signature scent, you were still able to determine that the guy in front of you is sae and not some rando

“you’re drunk as fuck right now, y/n” sae says in a hushed tone. he rests his arm over the arm seat, unintentionally opening up more space. you don’t know what took over you but you casually invited yourself to his arms. you were now plush against his barely exposed chest.

sae freezes in shock. maybe it was also the alcohol that was slowly taking over but last time sae checked, he has an alcohol tolerance like a sailor

“warm” you murmur, resting your head on his chest. sending sae into a moment of panic in his head.

what the fuck. what the fuck. what the fuck

sae looks up and down. between your head that was literally now resting on his chest and some of the lingering u20 members. he noticed that your chest was exposing some cleavage with the tight dress you were wearing, which just added more to the mix. sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and tried his best to cover it

“y/n, sit up” he whispers in your ear, trying to help you out as he can.

‘this situation can’t get any worse’ he thinks to himself (it does)

much to sae’s relief, you actually do sit up on your own. you now stare at sae who was also staring back at you. you can see him open and close his mouth. he was probably talking but you’ve blocked out all of the noise. you could only hear your heart beat beating fast as your eyes trail down from his eyes, to his lips, to the thin gold chain that sits comfortably on his collar bones, to the exposed part of chest that was peaking through thanks to the two unbuttoned buttons on his button down shirt

“y/n are you even listening to me?” sae was getting annoyed. he didn’t go out with you for him to take care of your drunk ass. you could only stare blankly at sae. he gets the message that you weren’t listen to him the entire time he gave a small stern rant about drinking.

sae huffs, grabbing the drink in front of him that he abandoned a little while ago. you noticed his jaw was clenched as he downed the drink in one go. since when did sae get this hot?

at this point the alcohol took over you. the next thing you knew, your lips were on his. sae tries to pull away, “y/n-“ but gets muffled as you continue to kiss him. even going as far as straddling him.

sae still respected you and didn’t put his hands on you. that was until you were tugging his hair on the back of his head. his hands immediately flew onto your waist.

you momentarily pull away to get some air. it was getting stuffy anyway. your arms over sae’s neck. sae was looking at you with wide eyes because, what the fuck just happened. your lipstick was now smudged, he touches his lips and felt the residues of your lipstick

that’s when you officially black out. you head falls on sae’s chest once again but this time you were knocked out cold.

“y/n?” sae calls, tapping your sides because you just stopped moving.

the rest of the night becomes history.

you sit at the kitchen island stunned as the memories come rushing in. sae could only laugh at your face.

“SAE, I’M SO SORRY” you cried out, hands over your face to hide it from sae. you just basically ruined your friendship with sae. there was no returning from this pinnacle moment you’ve shared with sae

“it’s fine” he reassures, finally sitting down next to you. you shook your head no and still spluttered some apologies. you watched sae for his next reaction only to see him chew his food

sae simply pats your head. he uses his other arm to wipe his mouth in case for some crumbs here and there before looking at you in the eye,

“warn me next time when you’re gonna sit on my lap and kiss me like there’s no tomorrow”

#blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #blue lock scenarios #sae imagines #sae x reader #sae itoshi imagines #sae itoshi x reader #GUYS.. THIS MIGHT BE MY NEW FAVORITE PIECE HOLY FUCKKKKKKJ

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gosmigenergy · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men.

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option.

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He’ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #reader insert #santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales #will ironhead miller #benny miller #slow burn #kinktober #first time posting #im gonna post this and log off

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hearts4hughes · 2 years ago

Note

hi bestie bae! could you please do a luke imagine with little freak? congrats on 100 followers btw! i love your writing sm<33

little freak - luke hughes

luke hughes x fem! reader

100 followers celly !!

part 2

warnings: swearing, yelling, a tiny makeout sesh

notes: as usual, the italics are flashbacks (unless used in a sentence to emphasize a word). i struggled to write this, and i did not proofread it, but i probably will in the morning. this takes place for when luke plays for the devils. hope you enjoy reading!

gif is not mine

little freak

jezebel

you sit high atop the kitchen counter

“there’s no way i’m watching breaking bad, again.” you say, propping yourself on top of luke’s counter.

“hey! you can insult any other movie, but do not insult walter white!” he lets out a fake gasp, putting his hand over his mouth before putting the packet of popcorn into the microwave. “what else do you want to watch then?”

“i’m thinking,” a big smile breaks out across your face as you think of the perfect movie, “10 things i hate about you.”

you and luke have been together for three years. your friends tell you it is a ‘love at first sight’ type relationship, and it most definitely was. after your best friend, quinn, introduced you to luke, you both fell for each other. luke knew you liked him, i mean you weren’t very subtle with it. every time he walked into the same room as you, you could barely put a coherent sentence together. luke noticed and thought it was adorable. if he’s honest, he felt the same way when he saw you.

“there’s no way i’m watching that, again!” he mocks, moving so he’s standing in between your legs. he puts his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. your fingers find their way into his curls and your legs lock around his waist.

“please,” you whine like a child, throwing your head into the crook of his neck.

he giggles, considering your movie choice, “fine.” he shakes his head in disbelief. your head shoots out from his neck, a big smile paints your face.

“really?!” your smile is ear to ear as luke nods. quickly, you connect your lips with luke’s. the kiss is passionate and lust filled. his hands move from resting on your hips, to under your butt. he picks you up off the counter. the only thing holding you up is your legs gripped around luke’s body and his hands under your ass.

just as the kiss begins to heat up, the microwave beeping indicates that the popcorn is ready. luke pulls away, taking a moment to admire your now swollen lips and flushed face. he pulls the popcorn bag out of the microwave, opening the top to let some steam come out.

“ready to watch a movie?” he grins, holding his hand out for you to grab.

“of course, my love.” you respond cheekily, grabbing his hand and jumping off the counter.

a wet dream just dangling

but your gift is wasted on me

“am i just some wet dream to you, luke?!” you yell, angry tears falling from your eyes.

“what?! of course not, y/n.” his voice is frustrated, but calm considering the situation. he reaches out to grab you and bring you into a hug, but you back away.

“don’t you fucking touch me!” you scream, wiping your face with your hands. you try to choke back sobs, but they come roaring out.

“baby,”

“i’m not your ‘baby’ anymore, so don’t fucking call me that.” you cut him off and begin walking to your shared bedroom. luke trails behind you, desperate for you not to leave.

“we are still together, you didn’t break up with me yet.” he points out, causing you to whip around.

you let out a sarcastic laugh, “is this not enough indication for you? get it through your little brain that we are over!”

he flinches at your harsh words. tears begin swelling in his eyes, as he is not going to lose you just yet, but instead of saying something then, he just watches you fill up your duffel bag with various clothing items.

“no, please don’t leave!” he drops to his knees, crawling over to you. tears start to pour out of his eyes as you take off his sweatshirt you were wearing and throw it at him. he catches the sweatshirt, looking down to it in his hands. his vision is blurry- so blurry he can barely see- but this was your favorite sweatshirt of his. it was also luke’s favorite, but he barely got to wear it because of how much you loved it.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you start breaking down. your hands fly up to your face, wishing you could stop the tears flooding out of your eyes. “i saw photos of her with you. i don’t give one fuck about how drunk you were, you still kissed her.”

“i didn’t kiss her! she kissed me,” luke argues back. you both sit next to each other on the foot of the bed. the duffel bag falls onto the ground as he wraps his arms around you. “i swear. i don’t want anyone other than you.”

you and luke cry into each others embrace. he presses various small kisses in the crook of your neck, which you once loved, but now felt like nothing to you.

you haven’t felt anything since you saw those photos of luke kissing another girl. you really wished this hug would bring you back to life. revive your relationship with each other, but it truthfully did nothing. it felt like you didn’t have anymore tears to cry.

luke on the other hand, put everything he could into this hug. he knew it might be the last one, but he did everything in his power to bring back that spark.

was this really it?

the second he saw those photos, he knew he fucked up. he was blackout drunk and only remembered the girl coming onto him. the kiss was short as luke basically threw the girl off of him, but someone happened to snap a picture and posted it. luke raced home as fast as he could, wanting to get home to you before you saw the photos, but it was too late. you had been tagged and sent the photo by a thousand different people.

“i’m so sorry.” he cries into your neck. you knew it was an accident, and you knew luke was sorry, but the photo was tattooed into your brain. every time you looked at him, the memory tainted your mind.

“i know you are,” you pull yourself out of his chest to look at him. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot as tears keep pouring out of them. “but we need a break. i need a break.”

before he can protest, you stand up, grabbing your bag and heading out of the bedroom. he shoots to his feet just as you are about to exit through the front door, “i-, i love you.” his sobs make him stutter out the sentence.

in response, you only nod your head- giving him a look of pity- and finally leaving the house.

i was thinking about who you are

your delicate point of view

i was thinking about you

it’s officially been three months since you and luke broke off your relationship officially, and you are both broken.

it’s been hard for you to come home to an empty apartment. you missed the feeling of coming home to luke attempting to cook in the kitchen. or even when you’d come home to him passed out on the couch after a long practice.

i’m not worried about where you are

or who you go home too

i’m just thinking about you

it’s been equally as hard for luke. at first, his mind was filled with thoughts of you coming home to someone else- someone better than him. but as the weeks went on, he started to only think about you. when he passes coffee shops or flower fields, he can’t help, but remember the little things you’d say about them. you always had a delicate point of view for many little things like like that. what he didn’t realize at first, was how much something like this affected him, but it did.

laying on your bed, you scroll through the tv channels in search for something to watch. slowly, you pass by the hockey channels, coming to a sudden stop when you see the devils game. noticing that they are ahead two to zero, you set the remote down, allowing yourself to watch the final minutes of the game. there was barely three minutes left in the game, what’s the harm in watching that?

however, you didn’t seem to realize that luke had scored both the two goals- making him the star of the game. you used to love watching the postgame interviews with luke. it was obvious he was a little camera shy as he was fidgety and kept his answers fast and short, but it was adorable to you. but now as you watch him do the postgame interview, sadness courses through your mind. the interview is barely a minute long, but you can’t even get through five seconds of it before switching the tv off.

on the other side of the tv, luke always wondered if you watched the games and silently supported and cheered him on. in fact, it was the only thing that motivated him to play his very best, but he knew deep down you passed by any and all hockey channels as fast as you could, not even wanting to hear his name.

now an hour after the game, both you and luke, stared at your phones. your finger hovered above luke’s contact name- wanting to call him and confess that you miss him- but you don’t. on the other hand, luke’s thumb stayed hovered over the send button- waiting to send his text that read ‘i miss you. can we try again?’- but he doesn’t send it.

you both know it’s for the better, but it hurts so bad.

#hearts4hughes #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #nora's writings 💐

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 1 year ago

Text

Fandom Leap - Chapter 5

A/N: Hi friends! I am back with a submission to a collab project with @supraveng and other friends! I am so honored to be apart of this story and hearing other people’s writing style has been so fun! I hope my part keeps everyone interested! Readers thoughts are in italics!

Word Count: 2,618

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester x Reader (no incest!)

Warnings: love triangle, kissing, fluff, tiny bit of angst

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Before you could respond that feeling came over you again, you hadn’t even had a chance to warn Claire or live in this glamorous life for an entire day before feeling the chill running through you and knowing you weren’t going to be able to get back here anything soon.”

When you wake up again after your jump, your head hurts worse than it ever had before. You try standing up but feeling dizzy and decide to just stay on the ground until you get your strength up enough to move again. The world around you had been spinning out of control and the only relief is closing your eyes tightly, praying to anyone who would listen that the dizzying feeling would just stop. For fear of the situation only growing, your eyes are still closed tight but a new feeling made itself known. It seemed that someone had wrapped their arms around under your shoulders and then under your knees, you felt the ground from under you disappear; someone picked you up. There was silence around you but as you curled in closer to whomever held you, the smell of old cigarette smoke and whiskey tickled your nose; it was familiar.

Time passed and you woke up again, this time the dizzy feeling went away. Your eyes slowly open and you immediately recognize where you were. Jumping out of bed, you bound down the hallway and into the room you remembered from the last time you were there and the sight in front of you, made you super proud.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said when his eyes made contact with yours again. Rushing over you fall into Dean’s arms as he hugs you after not seeing you since the last jump

“Dean I literally thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“Yeah I know what You mean sweetheart I didn’t think we were ever gonna see you again.”

“Wait a minute where is Sam?” Just as you ask where he was the sound of the door opening to the bunker and footsteps coming down the stairs indicated that Sam had been coming home. Little did you or Dean know that he had been spending all of his time researching where you had gone to and how he could get you back.

“(Y/N) you’re back.”

“Hi Sam.”

“When did you come back?”

“Just now.”

“Are you OK? What happened, how did you come back?

“Really Sammy she's been gone for three months and all you can say is how is she back?” Dean pipes in

“What’s wrong with asking that?”

“Dude you clearly don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what Dean?” The two brothers were bickering back and forth to each other like they were kids again so you stepped to the side and let them talk.

“Doesn't matter how she got here it's just the fact that she's back that is what should matter to you!” Dean said.

“Well obviously I’m glad she’s back but it doesn't make any sense how can she jump from one round to another and be OK!”

“About that, I’m actually not OK.” You spoke up.

“What do you mean you're not OK?” Sam asked.

“I passed out and I don’t know where I ended up but I guess Dean found me picked me up and brought me back here. I was extremely dizzy and I just couldn’t move and the next thing I knew I woke up and I was here.

“Where did you find her?” Sam asked.

“She was about 40 feet away from the bunker it seemed however when she ended up jumping she tried to come back here somehow.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Sam questions.

“What is with you and things making sense?! Look she came from another realm, another universe, met other people but now she's back can you just for once appreciate that she's here.” Dean asked can I get a little more infuriated with his brother.

“(Y/N) welcome back” and with that Sam left the room.

“What’s his problem? What happened when I left?”

“Sam took it kind of hard.” Dean explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Sam got a little crazy. He did everything he could to try to bring you back on his own but see what he doesn't realize is that you have absolutely no control of coming and going as you please. You just up and leave but to him there has to be some kind of scientific proof for it to make any sense. Me on the other hand I’m OK with it! I mean you come and go as you wish sweetheart I don’t care. I mean as long as I don’t end up feeling anything or you know anything happens between us then you know it’s cool.

“Wait what do you mean anything happening between us?”

“OK I’m not gonna lie when we first met might have sort of thought you were attractive, I don’t know but, I thought it was ridiculous being attracted to a girl who has absolutely no control of when she can or can’t be someone I mean am I right.”

“Well first of all thank you. I, of course, find you very attractive. I mean you should see what my room looks like in my universe. Your face and Sam’s face are everywhere but that’s another story though. Secondly I appreciate what you’re saying and I agree I don’t wanna start anything with anybody if I can’t stay in one place. Until I figure out how to control this dating is just not an answer for me.”

“Alright that’s fair. I get it but do you mind if I do something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well you know I thought maybe I could go kiss you or something, just to get it out of my system?”

“Man, everyone wants to kiss me” You say to yourself.

“What was that?”

Oh nothing, nothing um, I mean I guess so?”

“Well geez if I’m gonna kiss somebody they’re usually a little more excited about it.”

“No, no, I, I am, it’s just I don’t know wouldn’t it be kind of weird?”

“Me? Weird? Come on sweetheart that's not fair.”

“No, no, I mean it’s nothing against you. I mean like you said I have no control of when I’m gonna leave next and like you were saying I don’t wanna give you feelings and then just take it all away because I believe I mean”. And before you were able to finish that sentence the soft feeling of Dean’s lips were on yours immediately shutting you up.

You could tell just by that one kiss how long he had been wanting to kiss you, not that you knew him or Sam for very long to begin with but you knew there was something else there. After a few minutes had gone by Dean had let you breathe you decided to leave the room and try to downplay however you were feeling

“Well on that note I- I-I guess I’m gonna go and see what I can I-I can do for somebody else I-I don’t know I just have to go. Bye.”

You groan to yourself as you walk out the door and hear Dean laugh at you as you scurried away, hoping desperately that he would forget your awkwardness. Walking around the bunker you try to familiarize yourself with where you were based off of what you've seen on television

So if memory serves me correctly this should be Sam’s room. Slowly walking up to the door, you hesitate a moment before you realize that maybe what you're doing is a little bit crazy. Sam did seem like he was less than enthused to have you back after the way you left so abruptly the first time but he owed an explanation to you why he acted so weird when you came back. Dean was more than happy to see you but what was up with Sam? Slowly bringing your knuckle up to the door you tap on it three times, instantly regretting that you even came up here.

“I’m not in the mood Dean go away,” Sam's muffles voice could be heard from the other side.

“It’s me Sam,” you said just loud enough for him to hear you. Just then the door quickly opens and he appeared surprised to have you standing at his door.

“(Y/N) what are you doing here?

“The better question is why did you act so weird when I came back?” you counter.

“I was afraid you were gonna ask me that.”

“Afraid? Why were you afraid?

“Here why don’t you sit down,” Sam stepped aside and let you walk in before motioning for you to sit on the bed.

“OK look I acted weird when you came back because I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Well obviously I didn’t think I was coming back here either but I am here so why does it bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re back. I’m just surprised taken back or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Yeah I get that you made that really clear but why?” You grew more frustrated with him.

“Since you left I drove myself crazy trying to figure out how we could get you back anytime we wanted.”

“I know Dean told me but why would you do that?”

“Well because I uh,” Sam seemed like he was trying to hide something from you.

“Come on Sam just say it.”

“Look I know it was only for a couple of days since you were here and we really don't know each other but I did start feeling something.”

“Oh no, not you too,” you say aloud.

“Wait what?” Sam was confused by this.

“Dean literally said the same thing to me about 20 minutes ago.”

“Wait so you're saying that Dean confessed to having feelings for you?”

“Yup,” you said nodding your head.

“Oh well that’s just great.” Sam said.

“He even kissed me too.” To say that Sam was disappointed was an understatement but he couldn't say anything, Dean had got to you first.

“I see um, OK then cool. So do you like him too?”

“I mean yeah, he's really cool actually and very cute?”

“Why does that sound more like a question?” Sam had asked

“Well because like I told him until I get this jumping thing under control I don’t think it’s fair that I have feelings for anybody. Dating would just be really, really hard because I never know when I’m gonna jump into another universe and who else I’m gonna meet. Besides I don’t wanna play with your feelings like that and then Dean’s feelings too; that’s not fair to you guys.”

“I mean I can see your point but Dean and I are grown men; we can make decisions for ourselves and whether we think it's good for us or not. I appreciate your concern but I’ll be OK.” Sam said, growing more confident in himself.

“Well that’s good to know but again, I just wouldn’t feel right about leading either one of you on when I never know if I’m staying.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true. It is kind of unfortunate though.”

“Why do you say that?” Curiosity began to taunt you.

“Well I don’t know, I think I came up with a couple of dates I thought would be kind of cool to take you on.”

“Oh really, and what would those have been?”

Sam chuckled a little nervously kind of shy about sharing the side of him usually doesn't let anybody see him to be a romantic type but when it came out he did like showing it. His cheeks tinted with pink.

“Well to start I think what I would do is we would go into town find the closest restaurant that set on the water sit across from each other and order the most expensive food that we could find on the menu.”

“Jeez wouldn’t that be expensive.”

“No but I can cover it you’re worth that.”

“OK so after we ordered all this food what would we do next?”

“Well after we finished eating and enjoying different conversation I would order a dessert.”

“You? A dessert man? I always thought you were the healthier one with all those salads you tend to eat.”

Sam laughed shaking his head a little bit

“Well yeah but in this case let’s just go with the dessert.”

“OK what kind of dessert?”

“It would be ladies choice so whichever you’re feeling we can go ahead and order as long as it’s not any kind of pie because I am sick of pie I mean you try and live with Dean.”

At that point you were both laughing knowing just how much the man loved his pie.

“OK,OK so after dessert what's next?”

“So I thought we would walk down the water line.”

“That sounds like it could be fun or a little bit messy.”

“What do you mean messy?

“If we’re gonna be at the water I’m gonna wanna take off my shoes and depending on if it rained or not there might be mud.”

“OK now you're really thinking too much into this.”

“Hey you said that you thought a lot about this, let me bring my thoughts into it too!”

“OK fair enough so we're walking along the water and we're holding hands just as the sun slowly begins to sink behind the horizon. The sky is this beautiful orange and pink little bit of purple in there as well but then I turn and I look to you I stop and I smile at you, not being able to realize just how lucky I am that someone as beautiful as you agreed to do something like this with me. In my past as a hunter, I never thought in a million years that I would be able to find somebody that I could just be myself with. I know I said we’ve only known each other for a few days but there's something about you and I can’t help but think of that maybe there could be a future between us. I don’t know it might be kind of crazy for me to think about it like this but in my line of work with how many times I’ve almost been killed or I have been killed and I’ve been brought back to life, it’s a chance I have to be willing to take.

Then Sam looked over to you as he finished his thought and you smile to yourself. And in that very moment, you grab his face and bring him to your lips. He immediately responds, grabbing your hips and holding you close to him. He growled a bit, almost animal like, as he took control and gave all his feelings to that kiss. Like he was afraid of losing you for good.

“No one has ever said anything like that to me before,” you say when you separate from him.

“You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life” Sam says with his forehead against yours.

You sigh as you soak in this moment, this feeling in your heart, the smell of Sam and the feeling of his hands gripping onto your hips. Just as quickly as all of those feelings went through you, they all went away and that eerie familiar feeling rose up on your throat.

No, not now. Please, not now! And before your head could wrap around what was going on, you were torn away from Sam but his presence still lingered on your skin.

#supernatural #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #supernatural family #sam girls #dean girls #dean winchester #collab #sam and dean #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #sam x y/n #sam x reader

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strxnged · 2 years ago

Text

SKZ: # love letter

word count. 5.5k genre. comedy, platonic with a touch of f2l

overview. you find a love letter addressed to you sitting outside your dorm. by the time you realize it's not a prank, you're too caught up in finding your secret admirer to let it go. of the two plausible suspects, there's one person you'd really like it to be — and one you wouldn't. (uni!au)

warnings. 1: i thought it was hilarious. funny, even. so please read it and tell me if you laughed. and if it’s awfully unfunny, let me know that too. i guess it's bangchan x reader x changbin, but you'll have to tell me if that's an exaggeration. 2, i lost all my italics pasting this from google docs so some sentences may read not quite as intended if i missed them! 3, bangchan is addressed as chris for fun

You found the silence of the library stifling, almost exposing, and so instead it was your habit to sit on the wide front steps outside the entrance, as people occasionally walked past and supplied you with enough noise to keep you focused. You were so accustomed to the setting for studying, in fact, that you could notice from the temperature of the concrete what the weather would be like. They always had a sweaty, dewy feel on days that would be hot, and days it would rain they were cold enough to make your legs go numb.

Today, they were freezing. But you would not risk going inside. Your statistics homework would have to wait for you to read the letter you’d found outside your dorm’s door in the hall, presented carefully and clearly enough to be assumed intentional. The envelope was admirably calligraphed with no addressee but a “from your admirer” in the center that you could have sworn would have made it into a Victorian romance. You weren’t sure, at first, whether to open it.

You were suspicious of things like this, especially at a university such as yours. Romance wasn’t discreet and suitors had no style. A love letter — if indeed the envelope contained what the embellishments suggested — was rarer than a party without alcohol or an RA on floor three without a stick up their ass.

Anticipation coursed through you as your finger ran under the fold, peeling the sealing off neatly. This in itself was a unique experience for you. Sealed envelopes were never quite… the same, after they passed through your hands. Perhaps the author was experienced at this. Perhaps they wrote them as an elaborate prank.

You took the tri-folded letter into your hands. It was typed — of course it was — in a small font with little spacing. Your eyes were dazzled by the number of words, and you were at once convinced that it was either not any kind of a love letter, or was meant for another’s eyes. Nobody could have this much to write about you in the context of romance.

The letter addressed you inconveniently by your room number. All this could clarify for you was that it wasn’t accidentally placed at the wrong door, though there was still potential for a misinformed author on the resident of that dorm.

“Dear 310,

“I hope you were expecting this. I don’t mean to shock you.

“It will rain today, so I hope you remember to bring an umbrella. You’re the forgetful type. I would like to be the person to remind you of things, you know?

“I’m getting ahead of myself. I wanted you to know, in the case you hadn’t figured this out by this point, that I like you. I fancy you. I am very, very interested in you. But you aren’t in me, are you? I hope this can change. I hope you will keep your eyes off the floor and see me, someday soon. …”

A raindrop landed on the page, leaving a grey spot to distract your eyes. It would rain, and you would have forgotten your umbrella, of course. That was not indicative of the letter really being meant for you, but it did still unsettle you sufficiently.

You didn’t have a chance to resume reading. Your nerves got the best of you at the sound of a pair of heavy footsteps up the stairs, and you wasted no time restoring the letter to the envelope and shoving it between random pages of the textbook resting closed on your lap. The rain was beginning to pick up, now. You normally didn’t mind the weather unless it was wreaking havoc on your work, but the letter had made it a bit eerie.

The rain seemed to stop for a moment, and you looked up to realize a clear umbrella was being held over your head. For a whole three seconds, you froze, wondering if this was the admirer revealing theirself.

“Hey, idiot. Try looking at the forecast before you station yourself out here next time. You and Chris both, I swear.”

“Good morning to you, too, Changbin,” you said, standing up. You allowed the umbrella to cover you. You felt a sense of relief that you didn’t have to deal with awkward romanticisms of meeting the author. “How was the gym this morning?” You considered telling him about the letter. You would have to finish reading it, first. Usually you told your best friend everything, but this felt a little fresh to be chattered about.

He flashed a dimple and clicked his tongue. “Worried Chris is gonna injure himself. My man is working the deadlift like mad, trying to catch up to my level.”

You giggled, looking Changbin in the eye as he winked at you. “Impossible. He should give up while you’re ahead.”

You processed the wink and froze, again.

No.

Oh, please, no.

As Changbin rambled — bragged? — about their push-day routine and the two of you set your course to the closest campus cafe, your head was working a mile a minute trying to make up proof that he wasn’t the author. It couldn’t be him. You had had enough bad luck with guy best friends going wrong, either from your end of theirs. It was always unreciprocated, enough times that it couldn’t possibly occur again. Changbin was the friend you told everything and complained about everything and spent your time off with. His dorm kitchen was basically yours, since neither him or Chris minded you bringing in your own ingredients and restoring their faith in oatmeal cookies.

Oatmeal truthing Computer Science Major and hip-hop truthing Sports Psyc Major, dating? You couldn’t lie. You hated the sound of that. Maybe you were both fairly introverted, and had similar senses of humour and all that. But that was perfect for you being friends. Just friends.

You realized you were clenching your teeth. You directed your attention to Changbin, trying to mentally drop the subject.

“I still don’t get why you don't study in the cafe,” Changbin was saying. “It’s never silent in there.”

The friendly door chime announced your arrival to the Java Day, and the bustle of students in and out proved his point well. But the reason you liked noise wasn’t necessarily for the noise itself, and besides, you had personal reasons for avoiding it. Ones that you would have to ignore for the eight-hundredth time, especially now.

Christopher Bang had no reason to be that adorable in an apron. Brown hair tossed over his left eyebrow, a smile glowing warmer than any drink in the venue. It nauseated you. You swore it was the adrenaline rush of him taking your order that woke you up for the day, not the coffee.

You hated that you even knew his schedule by heart, too. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. All morning shifts. He’d work out with Changbin, go shower, and then by the time you got there, he’d be there, smiling behind the counter. It’s not like you knew all this because you were a stalker. It was because you had a crush on your best friend’s roommate, and the information was freely made available to you especially when you didn’t want it to be.

You couldn’t stand going to the Java Day by yourself on those days. When Changbin and Chris broke into “bro” talk, which was really no different than watching two girls giggle and talk about their weekend plans, you could safely order and sneak a few gazes without suffering from acquainted small talk.

“Because,” you said, facing Changbin. “Every time I come in here, I buy something. I don’t have the money to buy coffee here more than three times a week, and I cannot study when we stop here together.”

“Then come without me. No, wait, I’d miss you…” He thought for a second. “Just… come in and don’t buy anything, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…” He frowned. “Okay, maybe don’t do that.”

You were thinking the same thing. Bad courtesy. Could get you on the bad side of the baristas, and it would be fatal to get on the bad side of the employees of the best cafe on campus.

“Befriend Chris, and blackmail him into giving you energy bean juice for free.”

“In what world is that a better idea?”

“Come on. Is that not easier than sitting on the freezing stairs in November, accepting rain as your fate when it falls? He’s nice enough.”

“I can’t stop the rain from falling.”

“Oh yeah. And you certainly can’t change how you respond to it, can you?”

“What can I say? I’m stubborn.”

The two of you had reached the front of the line. “Why’s Bin calling you stubborn?” Chan asked with a smirk.

Changbin punched your arm. “Idiot doesn’t know what roofs are.”

“Hmm… Sounds like ignorance, not obstinance.”

“It’s a combination of both,” you defended. “Um, I’d like—”

“Coffee two cream?”

Frick him for knowing your order. You nodded, feeling a bit shy. “Yes, please.”

“And an iced mocha.” Changbin added.

You gave him a look of contempt.

“No, no, I’m paying,” he clarified.

“Yeah, I got that. But you’re getting an iced coffee in November.”

Chris was shaking his head behind the counter. “I think you’re both crazy. That’s eight fifty-five.”

As Changbin paid, Chris offered you a friendly smile, as if to say, Lucky!

You gave him a blank smile and averted your eyes. The way your ears flamed was irrelevant, now. Because why was Changbin paying for your drink today, right after that letter?

You still had to finish reading it. You would be able to figure it out, you were sure, once you finished reading it. You would have enough information to go off of, then.

As you took a seat with your friend at a table, you could hear the titters of girls who had been standing behind you in line. You couldn't quite make out what was being said but it shoved your head back into reality once again. Chris was a flirt on the job, whether it was intentional or not. A great business strategy. You had heard him a few weeks ago talking humbly about his earnings to Changbin in an attempt to convince him to apply to the Java Day.

“All you gotta do is make coffee the best part of their day, man. And you’re handsome, you’d win all their hearts in no time.”

“No way. Shut up.”

“Think about it.”

He hadn’t been successful, but it had made you imagine for about a week what it would be like to work alongside Chris. You might not have the charm capabilities to earn tips, but you could definitely make a cup of coffee. Reality hit you with your course load; your class schedule clashed with Chris’s work schedule, and there was no room for side jobs on top of what you already did. And with that, you also came to realize there was no room to chase someone way out of your league, too.

You were a realist. Romance was hopeless, if not impossible, for you. And that was why, no matter who it was from, you would read the letter and then forget about it.

—

The rest of the letter was, unfortunately for you, a great deal of meaningless romantic statements — about your eyes, your smile, your devotion to studying. Things that could really apply to anyone who studied in public. Some general statements about being too shy to ask you out in person — as any person writing a love letter might say. And a strange reiteration of something you must have said to this person, something that was vague enough that you had no way to believe it wasn’t you. The part that got you worried, though, was when suddenly went down a more uncomfortable route.

“I know you don’t have any roommates. That must be terribly lonely and quiet. I want to change that for you.”

The level of overall detail in the letter was both confusing and uncomfortable for you. It was more stalkerish than flattering. How did they know about your aversions to silence? And why did that remark have to come across so suggestively? You were also disturbed by the closing request to meet in person.

“I would like to talk to you in person, to apologize for this method of getting in contact with you and answer your questions. And then maybe you can answer mine. Would you fall in love with me too?

“If you’ll meet me, put this letter outside your door where you found it. Let’s meet tomorrow (Saturday) evening at eight, at your favourite place — the Java Day. It’s usually quiet by then, isn’t it?”

You hated it.

However, contrary to your conviction to simply forget about it, you did just as the instructions were asking. You knew curiosity would get the best of you. And, honestly, you were a bit invested in whatever was going on.

You had to have backup, though. You called Changbin, asked him if he was busy Saturday night.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your voice sounds weird. And you’re calling me almost midnight.”

“I’m fine. Just gotta talk to you about something.”

“I’m coming over if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

You considered this. “I’ll come to you and explain.” It would be easier if you both knew what was up.

—

“A what?”

“Changbin, please,” you said, trying not to laugh. “You heard me. So, will you do it?”

“You got a what?” he asked again, eyes wide and jaw dropped comically.

“Come on, Changbin, you gotta do this for me. Otherwise I’ll think it was you who sent it.”

“Ain’t no way…” he said. He was sitting backwards in a chair from the communal area’s table, and he leaned away from the chair back while holding onto it. “No way.”

“I’m hurt. You don’t think anyone’s capable of falling for me?”

He crooked his eyebrows at you. “No, I don’t think anyone on the entire campus is capable of that kind of class.”

He had a point. Still. “I wouldn’t call it class. It was kind of creepy.”

“It could be worse. You wouldn’t believe what happens to Chris when we go to floor four.”

You didn’t want to know what happened to Chris when they went to floor four. “I still don’t get why they put the partiers on the floor above the quiet floor.”

“I think it’s a scheme to make the students feel helpless. And set them against each other.”

“You know, you could be right. Back to the letter…”

Changbin smiled and looked you straight in the eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Here, I’ll show you. I will literally go get it, I just had it outside my dorm.”

You went into the hallway and scanned the carpet in front of your door. To make proving any point to Changbin harder, it was gone. It was very much gone. The carpet was devoid of any calligraphed envelopes and romantic notes. Damn, you should have at least taken a picture. You pursed your lips, looking the other way down the hall.

“Hey, Oatmeal.”

Chris. He was approaching his and Changbin’s door with a weird expression on his face.

“Hi,” you said.

“It’s pretty late. Why are you wandering the halls?”

“I… can’t explain.”

“You’re mysterious. Studying on the library steps, majoring in computer science, wandering up and down the hall late at night….”

“What’s the matter with computer science?”

“Mental torture?”

“Fair point. Listen, just get inside the dorm and I’ll explain. I was just… well…”

He unlocked the door, raising an eyebrow at you. “You were just…?”

“You found your love letter?” Changbin asked from inside.

Chris opened the door the rest of the way. “My what?”

“Oh, Chris! You won’t believe this.”

“My what, Bin?”

You followed him inside, made eye contact with Changbin who was on the verge of bursting into laughter, and looked sulkily at the floor as he started to chuckle.

“The hell’s goin’ on?”

“I can explain,” you said. “Just give me a chance.”

Changbin recovered and invited Chris to come and sit. “Where’ve you been, Chris?”

He sucked in his teeth, dragging over a chair to imitate his roommate’s position. “I was in the library studying for a Bio quiz on monday. They had to come over and tell me they were closing up.”

“Nerd.”

“Yeah, whatever. At least I’m doing my homework.”

Changbin pressed his lips together, unable to respond.

“So,” you said. “This morning, I was about to leave my dorm and head to the library—”

“Library steps, you mean,” Chris said.

“Oh, don’t start,” you said with an annoyed smile. “I was leaving my dorm when I found something on the ground. An envelope. So I went and I read it, and it was a love letter. And boy it was long—”

“Are you bragging?” Changbin asked.

“No! I just—”

“It sort of sounds like you’re bragging.” Chris said.

Your ears went red and you put the heel of your hands on your forehead to combat the response. “You guys are useless. Let me finish.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

“I’d love to hear more, but I had actually better get to bed,” Chris said. “Keep me updated.”

“Goodnight, Chris.”

“‘Night, pal.”

He bid you both goodnight and disappeared into his dorm. You took the chair he’d pulled out and sat on it like a normal person. “I was going to ask if you sent it. But you’ve made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t you.”

“No. I’d never ask you out like that.”

“Would you ever ask me out?”

“Debatable.”

You paused. “Would Chris?”

Changbin’s face turned serious. “Well, I’m not quite sure. I don’t think that’s his style.”

You eyed his door. “Seemed a bit weird how he just left once he realized what this was about.”

He thought about it, matching your gaze. “Mmm. I think he’s just tired.”

You didn’t know whether you wanted it to be Chris. On one hand, it would make a little sense. He knew you well enough in comparison to most of your classmates, and if it wasn’t Changbin… But, no, it would be horrendous to find out it was him. That letter was hardly as glamorous as it aspired to be. You liked to think that Chris was incapable of writing such a monstrosity.

He’d had such a weird expression in the hallway. Did you dare suspect him of being the author, of being the one to take it?

“Either way. I guess I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

“I thought you said it was a—”

“That’s why I want you to come. Just show up, after, like, half an hour. If I’m being stood up, we can have coffee together and laugh at the person who wrote it for being a coward.”

He thought about this. “Fine. 8:30?”

You got up, flashing him a thumbs-up. “Just know that if nobody shows up I’m going to keep suspecting you and Chris.”

“Chill. I really, really don’t think that’s the case.”

He sounded almost too certain. As you approached the door, you looked back at him. “Chris doesn’t have a — a love interest of his own, does he?”

“Nah. He’s the king letting people down gently.”

“That’s a wonderful trait. We should all be more like Chris.”

“Are you excited?” Changbin asked you.

“Why would I be excited?”

“First date in, like, a year.”

You sighed. “Oh, shut up. No.”

“I’m curious, though.”

You turned the doorknob. “Yeah. Me too.”

—

You had somehow managed to forget about it by the next morning, so the little paper reading “See you tonight!” with a smiley face drawn at the end was a very effective jumpscare. You knew in that moment, peering into the eyes of the crude expression, that you were doomed to have concentration issues for the rest of the day.

Minutes crawled past, probably due to both anticipation and dread. You were useless; you were cursed. What was the purpose of love letters, anyways? Why couldn’t people just say how they felt to each other’s faces? But then… you were hardly one to talk.

You couldn’t get Chris’s face out of your head all day. Either he knew something, he was the something, or your imagination was far too active. One thing you were sure of, though, was that you really didn’t have the time to think about it. Piles of assignments were due Monday, and a group project Wednesday.

Oh, you hadn’t thought of that. What if it was someone from your group?

But after quick deliberation, you were pretty sure the guy in your group, Minho, was dating someone. You even asked him to make sure, and he confirmed a steady five-week relationship. The girls in the group didn’t swing the right way. Besides, it was unlikely that a Computer Science Major would have anything to do with this.

What if it was Chris?

The question kept coming back. You finally came to a conclusion that such images that were floating into your head at the prospect needed to be shut down properly, so in any case, you would have to give him an opportunity to “let you down gently” to save yourself to heartache later on. This could not continue. And you needed to be able to go to the coffee shop without sweating out your very being.

You traveled to the coffee shop at 7:45. It wasn’t that you were afraid of being late. You were afraid of being alone with your own thoughts for those last fifteen minutes.

When you got the Java Day, you did the biggest double take of your life.

No, this wasn’t right. He only worked three days a week!

Did you know this for sure? It’s not like you’d ever gone here at eight o’clock on a Saturday, so…

Whatever the case was, there was no doubt that Chris was standing behind the counter in a fairly empty coffee shop and he was waving at you as you stepped through the door. This did not make sense, and you could feel yourself malfunctioning and forgetting how to walk.

“Chris?”

“Yes?” he said.

You made your way to the counter, unable to form any sentences.

“You know, you shouldn’t drink caffeine late at night.” He looked at you earnestly. “Cramming for something?”

“No, I’m…” You paused, squinting at him. “Yeah. Got a lot of work to do.”

“Gotcha. What’ll it be, then?”

“Espresso, please.”

“You're crazy. Two ninety.”

He didn't know. Thank the heavens, he had no clue what was going on. He thought you were cramming.

Honestly, you should be cramming. A different kind of horror set in, though, realizing that Christopher Bang was going to have a front row seat to whatever would be going down.

You embraced it, taking the window seat closest to the counter. On one hand, yeah, he might witness some things you wished he wouldn't. But on the other, the whole situation was making you nervous and rather alright with sitting closer to someone who wasn't writing you creepy letters.

Chris set your espresso in front of you. “You alright? You look kinda spaced out.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just dreading the work I’ve gotta do tonight.”

Chris leaned on the counter, tilting his head. “Do you study with anyone?”

“Nope. In case you haven’t figured it out, Changbin’s study habits aren’t exactly…”

“Consistent. Yeah.”

“So I just do it by myself.”

“I hope you don’t plan to go and sit on the steps in the dark.”

You sipped the espresso, making a bit of a scowl at the potency. “No. It’s not busy enough at night.”

“Oh, I see. You like blending in.”

He got it. “Yeah. For some reason, actually being inside the library sure doesn’t do that for me.”

“Almost too quiet, eh?”

“Almost?” you said. “It’s deafening.”

“Well, um…” Chris glanced at the door for a second. He seemed almost… shy. What the hell? “If you need someone to, you know. Help you feel less alone while you’re studying. I can help you out. I’ve got stacks of notes to write up, I wouldn’t be distracting…” He held his palms up and his fingers danced, almost like a tiny jazz hands gesture. “I mean, only if you want.”

You were absolutely sure now that this could not be the same person who wrote the sentence “I am very, very interested in you” and certainly not the kind to make a suggestive comment about the silence in your dorm. All the same, he was inviting you, rather shyly, to hang out. To study together. Did he ask just anyone to study with him? And this was all three— no, two minutes from when you were supposed to meet someone confessing their love for you.

The answer you would give him was obvious.

But before you had the chance, you heard the Java Day’s entrance bell. Was this it? You wouldn’t dare look away from Chris, you could feel panic rising in your chest. It would be half an hour still before Changbin showed up. You should have told him to just come with you in the first place, really.

Chris looked away from you at the new customer.

“Chrisssss!”

You felt your panic sink back to where it came from, replaced by a sort of uncomfortable disgust.

“Hi?”

“Heyyyy!”

Either this girl was drunk or very, very air-headed. The cafe had been moderately quiet before her grand entrance.

“Do we know each other!”

“Of course we do! It’s me.”

You watched this interaction with interest.

“Who’s ‘me’?” He seemed to be attempting to hold a smile on his face and be friendly, but he was clearly confused.

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

Even you were confused at this point.

“C’monnnn… three-ten!”

You almost shot out of your chair, asserting yourself into the conversation. “Three-ten?!”

The girl eyed you for a moment. Half of her bubbliness dissolved. “Stay out of it, sweetheart.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head.

“I’m sorry, do you want something?”

“Yes, please, Chris.”

No way.

Your attention from the conversation next to you was stolen by the chime ringing again. Changbin spotted you and took the chair across from you. “Where’s the person? It’s 8:10.”

“You’re early. Um…” You didn’t know what to say.

You looked between him and the conversation happening a few feet away, not sure whether to laugh or cry. You settled on drinking your espresso with a distressed expression. Changbin was watching Chris and the girl.

She was the author. You figured that much out, now. And he was the — he was the intended recipient.

You set down the espresso shot glass, aware your hands were shaking. You covered your mouth with one hand. It was all too much.

You got even the attention of the girl. Really, you hated being the center of attention and so it was hardly on purpose to laugh as loudly as you were. It was ridiculous. You made eye contact with Changbin and he suddenly understood, somehow. He began to chuckle, too, shaking his head.

Chris was watching you two, and then studied the girl carefully. “You were at that party last weekend…” he said. “Right?” Both you and Changbin shut up, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Yes! And then I asked you for your number, ‘n’ you wouldn’t give it to me, so I… Chris, I didn’t know you worked here. But you’re here. So, do you have an answer?”

You were so tempted to say something. But you were also incredibly interested in how he might respond.

“Remind me your name again?”

“Adilene! I was in your Biology class.”

You and Changbin made eye contact and he mouthed “was.” You made a face of despairing efforts not to laugh. You failed.

“Listen, Chris,” she said, “I’m sorry about the letter. It was a bit of a dare, but I also had no other way to contact you. But do you think…” Adilene looked very obviously at you and Changbin, and you both stared right back at her. “... We could go to your dorm to continue discussing this after your shift? I thought it would be emptier here.”

“This— this late on a Saturday night? I don’t think my roommate would appreciate that,” he said.

“You said you didn’t have any roommates.”

“Did I?” He frowned, and then gasped in realization. “I did. Oh, well, I’m sorry. That wasn’t true. I, um…”

“He says that to reel you in,” Changbin volunteered. “It’s a fun game of his. He likes to pretend I don’t exist.”

“You—huh?”

“That’s… that’s my roommate,” Chris admitted. He looked like he was done with the conversation. While Adilene’s attention was in your direction, you took the opportunity to introduce yourself. You stood up and offered her your hand.

“Hi,” you said. “I’m their neighbour. One and only resident of three-ten. I got your letter. I really didn’t like the part where you said you had the hots for me.”

Really, it was a fairly innocent letter, although wrong. You felt a bit of sympathy for her. Except, no, you didn’t. You could feel sympathy for her later, right now you were in stitches over her terrified expression.

Chris’s expression was one very large “oh.”

“Your dorm… isn’t three-ten?” Adilene turned to him. She seemed to be receding into herself, somehow. Her overarching “charms” were retracting.

“Nope. Three-twelve.”

The three of you watched her take a whole step back, look at the door, and make a dash for it as if one of you were planning on chasing her. The cafe sat in silence for a few seconds before you and Changbin exploded into laughter. Chris leaned over the counter, head in hands.

“Chris,” Changbin said, catching his breath, “do you want to come over here and explain yourself?”

He made eye contact with you, a bewildered smile on his face, and ran his hand through his hair. “Not sure how much of what just happened I understood, unfortunately.”

“Really?” you interjected. “Not even the part where she said…” You pitched your voice up, “‘Chrisssss’?”

“Is this what goes on at parties when I don’t show? You tell girls I don’t exist and give them the wrong room number?”

“Bin.” He was physically cringing, utter distress on his face. He looked at you and the looked away. You had never seen Chris blush. He looked humiliated.

“I feel like I’m watching you go through the five stages of grief. I think Kubler Ross got ‘em right. Look, here comes anger.”

“Bin, shut up!” he wailed. “I… I just…”

You spoke up. “Why my room number? I’ve been so confused…”

“I didn’t tell anyone my room number!” He pulled his phone out of his apron’s pocket. “Look! She must have seen this… It’s my birthday…” Sure enough, the back of his phone said 0-3-1-0.

You squinted at it. “You sociopath. Why on earth do you use day before month?”

“Because it matches my room number. You know. Three-ten, three eleven… Why does it matter, anyways…”

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Changbin asked Chris.

“Because that was uncomfortable! You’d feel the same.”

“However many girls throw themselves at you, and you get embarrassed…” Changbin tsked and shook his head. “Is it because you feel competition with me that you don’t tell girls I’m your roommate?”

He sighed. “You would think that. No, it’s because it usually makes girls wonder what I must have done so wrong that my roommate moved out.”

“What are you implying about living alone?” you asked.

He threw his hands up. “Look, it works.”

“Yeah, on the smart ones,” Changbin pointed out.

The three of you gave Adilene a moment of silence for implicitly not being one of that demographic.

“I have so many questions left,” you said. “Most of them would be directed at her. And most of them, I wouldn’t like to know the answer to.”

“What was in that letter?” Chris asked.

You looked him dead in the eye. “I think it’s better you didn’t know.” You recalled how he acted about it last night, and you had to ask: “How come you didn’t want to know last night?”

He glanced at Changbin and then at the table. “I was just tired.”

“He was jealous, man.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were.”

“Don’t be weird.”

Chris finally looked you in the eye and you knew Changbin was telling the truth.

“I saw her last night, I think,” he finally said. “I saw her rounding the corner, and then I saw you in the hall. I could have sworn she giggled at me.”

“That’s why you were…”

But you didn’t have a chance to dwell on it, as someone walked into the cafe. It was Minho, from your group that met earlier over the project.

“Hey, guys. Chris, have you seen my girlfriend? She said she was meeting someone in here — we just had a fight…”

“Who’s your girlfriend?”

“Adilene Kauffer.”

At this, you picked up your espresso and downed the rest of it in one shot.

Chris cleared his throat. “Minho, my friend. I think… I think you should sit down.”

note. ok so that happened. i ummmm. i lost my mind writing this. i was cackling. so i hope you laughed too lmao. lowkey thinking of writing more for this, these four could be pretty chaotic........... anyways. weird writing fanfics for real people. or at all. it’s been like 8 months since i did that. also there are so many loose ends i still haven’t gotten a chance to tie together and realized i cannot do that in a short fic lmao. tagging @aunty-tiger-potato for the barista!chan (not that there’s much of that actually happening here).

reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you for reading!

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sm-entertain-me · 3 years ago

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Vital Points (M)

Synopsis: While Jiwoo is away being the good little mole she can for Mujin, another prolific female joins the inner rankings of Dongcheon. Seeing how far she’s progressed in such a short time, Mujin arranges for some one on one time to test her training… and her resolve. (Based on the hit Netflix series My Name starring Park Heesoon, Han Sohee, and Ahn Bohyun. Italics indicate past flashbacks.)

Contains: Choi Mujin x (f) reader, adult language, explicit depictions of sex, unprotected sex, marking kink, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie.

Requested to be tagged: @tammykelly @ineffablebean @nadinee2607

Note: I am so whipped for Choi Mujin and Do Gangjae, the literal worst people in the series but definitely hot enough to let them ruin my lives. They actually inspired me to start writing smut again lol.

Weeks had passed since you had become a member of Dongcheon, but you were still the lowest ranking recruit in the whole organization. You were easily the smallest out of all your counterparts considering they were all men that had muscles to back up their ferocity in weekly brawls. Because of your size, you were always the first one targeted in the aforementioned weekly brawls, many of the men teaming up to beat you down. In the first two weeks the brawls took place within the Dongcheon gym, Taeju or one of the other higher ranking henchmen would immediately intervene and broke up the brawl due to the unfairness of the usual five guys on one girl. But as the weeks went on, you were able to overcome them all and hold your own, no longer needing to hide behind Taeju... Or anyone for that matter.

But there was always room for improvement. No matter how hard you trained, you still lacked special skills to really win the brawls for a chance at vacation that nearly every other member has achieved. You didn’t have enough power to really push through and keep your enemies down. You had heard that there was another female recruit that was in your same position, but there was a rumor that she died a long time ago after two of the members tried to go after her and rape her. She died and the perpetrator got his face mangled by Dongcheon’s ruthless ruler: Choi Mujin.

Mujin saw potential in you when he saw you begging for your life in front of the Liber casino. You had just been jumped and had all your money stolen by some classmates of yours that knew you were in dire straights, so they knew you wouldn’t have gone to the police. The money you had gotten wasn’t obtained by innocent and honest means so reporting that people jumped you and stole money that rightfully belonged to the bank of Seoul probably wouldn’t have gotten you far with the authorities. But that’s why you went to Choi Mujin in the first place. You knew he hated cops as much as you did and, given that you were in a scenario that would’ve ultimately led to a life-debt being established, you knew he wasn’t going to resist having someone’s life in the palm of his hand.

“Please sir, you h-have to help me,” You begged into the intercom of the building, none of the usual guards keeping watch like you had seen before. You we hurt badly and could feel the blood pouring out of the gaping laceration in your abdomen, taking your non-bloody hand and pounding on the solid gold side door of the hotel. As you continued banging on the door, you suddenly felt your legs give out and collapsed to the ground, certain you were to die of blood loss. As your eyes threatened to close and signal your life was ending, you saw a man in a dark suit lean down to your level, throwing you over his shoulder until your vision blurred completely.

That was the day Choi Mujin saved your life. He saw your frail figure bleeding out on his property through his CCTV cameras installed on the perimeter of his building. He had heard your plea as he was conversating with Taeju, quickly being distracted by the desperation in your voice. You weren’t desperate for help; you were just desperate to live. Mujin saw your tenacity and cut his conversation with Taeju short, immediately rising to his feet to bring you inside before he lost another potential recruit to strengthen Dongcheon. He already knew Jiwoo was a success, perhaps you could be her successor...

A loud thud sounded through the gym as you threw a particularly powerful roundhouse kick into the punching bag, quickly planting your foot down to shift your momentum for punching combinations. You were the only one in the gym at this hour and therefore had free range to be as loud and obnoxious as you wanted. This was your chance to throw caution to the wind and really let out on the bag in hopes of getting your strength up to finally win a brawl. You were tired of coming in top five all the time. And, in all honesty, you just wanted to impress Mujin. Just as you were lining up for another flurry of punches on the bag, you heard a calming voice call out from the dark corner of the gym, “You need to shift more weight in your hips.”

Frightened by the potential intruder, you quickly kneeled down to grab the knife you kept in your sock at all times, drawing the blade and turning to where you heard the voice. Your eyes narrowed to the corner and made out a figure with broad shoulders, but that’s all you could see as the man’s face was obscured and you couldn’t see his clothes. But something about his voice was familiar and you could feel your grip relax slightly, but still making sure to keep your eyes trained on the corner until the figure made themselves known.

Seeing your apprehensiveness grow by the second, the figure finally came out from the darkness and stepped into the bright light hovering over the middle of the arena. Once you saw who the person was, you immediately sheathed your knife and bowed at 90 degrees to the man who saved your life weeks ago, “Oh, sir. Forgive me, I didn’t know who you were at first. I thought you were an intruder or something.”

Your replies were met with amused chuckles from Mujin as he walked closer to you, signaling for you to come out of your bowing position, “That’s quite alright. I was just coming down to see how you were progressing. Many of the recruits say that you’re trying to win the brawls to get vacation time. Others say you’re just trying to impress me. Either way, I’m here to help you with some tips and tricks on how to overpower your opponent.”

Mujin motioned for your to join him in the middle of the caged arena where you shed blood weekly to prove yourself to your boss, slowly unbuttoning his tailored suit. Your feet hesitated as you simply watched as Mujin unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing a thin white dress shirt that already had some buttons down. Next came Mujin’s tie, his eyes meeting yours as he tore it away from his neck, the veins in his neck bulging out in the most attractive way. With a halted breath, you turned away and finally joined Mujin in the middle of the arena like he asked.

“You seem distracted,” Mujin commented as he studied your body language, noticing how you avoided eye contact with him as he began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. As he did so, you could see his Dongcheon symbol branded on his pectoral muscle, the buttons going a little bit lower to reveal the top part of his toned stomach. Of course you’re distracted, and Mujin is clearly onto you.

“N-No sir,” You stammered as you finally picked your eyes up from the floor and were met with the cold yet affirming eyes of Mujin. His eyes seemed to travel from your bare midriff, to your hips, and all the way down your toned legs, all the way back up to your eyes. Mujin didn’t say a word as he simply moved toward you, him now standing two feet from you instead of two meters.

“You don’t have enough strength to beat them,” Mujin mused simply, looking at your arms and noticing that although they were toned, you didn’t have nearly enough muscle mass to back up your punches as much as the other members did. “You’ll have to focus on attacking your opponent’s vital points. Do you remember how many there are and what they are?” Mujin asked sternly, signaling that if you were paying attention like you were supposed to, you definitely would’ve known what he was talking about.

Memories of your training flooded back in pieces, the memories of martial arts training being more prevalent than that of the spoken lessons in class since you were only concerned about getting stronger and overcoming your enemies. Sadly, you wouldn’t be able to tell Mujin where the vital points are, but you can tell him how many there are.

“Sir, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can only tell you how many. I can’t tell you where they are,” You admitted halfheartedly, purposely avoiding eye contact with Mujin by simply staring at the Dongcheon emblem on his bare chest, slightly mad at yourself for not paying attention. You could tell that Mujin was waiting for you to tell him what you did know by the awkward silence that hung between you, you quickly responding the minute you picked up on his silent command, “There are five vital points, sir.”

“Very good,” Mujin praised, smiling proudly as he moved closer to you. “But I’m still going to have to show you where they are.”

Mujin then raised his hand as if you strike you, but you didn’t flinch. You wanted to prove that you had grown into something that Mujin should be proud of, you wanted to prove that he made the right choice with you. As Mujin watched your lack of flinching, he simply smirked as he then took a piece of your hair and brushed it behind your ear, sending shivers up your spine. He then placed his hand on the side of your face, touching two fingers to the side of your head as he simply muttered, “Temple.”

You didn’t say as word as Mujin’s hand then caressed your face, his eyes looking deep into yours as you melted into his hand. You swore you could see the cold eyes Choi Mujin soften as he then traced his finger across your plump lips, smearing a small bit of your saliva across wherever Mujin’s thumb connected with. Your breath was now nonexistent as you looked up at Mujin, waiting to see what he would do next. Mujin smirked as he saw your pupils dilate and your lip start to tremble against his thumb, “Upper lip.”

As Mujin’s thumb lay on your lips, something came over you and convinced you that it would be a good idea for you to do what you did next. In a fit of passionate oversight, your lips parted and enveloped Mujin’s lengthy digit into your mouth. You thought this was going to cause Mujin to rip his thumb out of your mouth and smack you, but you were met with Mujin sighing softly in response, loving the way your tongue would glide along his digit. He simply watched as you sucked generously on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him to show your intentions, which happened to turn him on even more.

After a sickening pop of Mujin removing his thumb from deep inside of your mouth, you looked up at Mujin with doe eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. A smirk painted itself on Mujin’s face as he grabbed ahold of your face, caressing your chin with the thumb you were just sucking on. He then pulled you closer to him, watching your eyes fall close as you were about to give everything you had to him, making sure to keep your lips millimeters apart from each other before he whispered, “Chin.”

There was a glimmer of hesitation that washed over Mujin’s face as he stared deeply into your eyes, unsure of if he really wanted to continue. You were his underling after all. There’s no doubt in his mind that all of the other recruits would lose trust in you and claim you only got to where you were because of sleeping with the boss, not because of the amount of heart and dedication you had put into this organization. But feelings of lust seemed to throw all rationality out of the window as Mujin tightened his grip on your chin and closed the space between your lips.

You don’t remember when you were backed up against the chain link fence of the arena, but you didn’t really seem to care as your fingers tangled into Mujin’s onyx hair tinged with silver. Strands of his hair continued to be wrapped tightly around your fingers as he started to kiss down your neck, leaving small pink blossoms in his wake. Euphoria was pumping through your veins as you watched Mujin with hooded eyes as he continued to mark your neck, eventually capturing your clavicle in between his teeth to hear you moan deliciously.

Fueled by your moans and hitching breath, Mujin continued to mark you as his and only his, not even caring that the other recruits would most definitely see the contusions on your skin. When he felt as if he was satisfied with his work on your neck and clavicle area, his eyes fell to your plump breasts that were practically begging to be release from their cloth confines. The corner of Mujin’s lip turned up into a smirk as he reached out and grabbed your flimsy sports bra in one hand, quickly yanking down to rip the piece of clothing to release your breasts much to the satisfaction of Mujin. After a small sigh from the initial reaction of seeing your breasts, Mujin placed his hand in between them and whispered, “Solar plexus.”

You could feel yourself losing your mind as Mujin licked his lips, his eyes traveling all over you and making sure to star extra long at your breasts. As Mujin was undressing you with his eyes, he simply looked into your eyes and sighed, “I would love to continue this here and show you the last vital point... But I can’t have Taeju watching us all night.” A little disappointed, you nodded at your boss’ request, moving to zip your jacket up since the sports bra was no longer functioning. Just as you were about to hook the zipper though, you felt Mujin’s hands grip onto your wrists, forcing you to look up at him, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take you to my penthouse to show you, babygirl.”

The car ride to the Liber hotel and casino was very short as Mujin sped his way through traffic, his hand gripping your thigh tightly as he focused on rushing through as many red lights as possible to have you all to himself. He had been waiting for a chance to get you all hot and bothered for him, but he never had the right time to. Tonight was much different than any other night, and he was about to make it a night to remember for you both.

When the two of you arrived to the penthouse suite of the casino, you were met with two sets of high ranking Dongcheon henchmen, bowing ninety degrees to show the utmost respect for their leader. Then they got a look at you, confused as to what to do with you. They each knew you from training, but they don’t know how to address you. You were clearly a guest of Mujin’s, so they had no other choice but to bow to you as well. A small smirk made its way to your face as you continued to follow behind Mujin, excited for what was in store for you.

As you entered the lavish entry way of Mujin’s penthouse, your hand was immediately gripped by Mujin’s as he began to lead you down the long hallway to what you were assuming was his bedroom. But before the two of you entered, Mujin stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face you, placing both hands on your arms to hold you in place and stare into your eyes, “Y/N, I need you to understand that if we do this, there is no going back. You will belong to me.”

“I’ve belonged to you the day I met you.”

Mujin smiled devilishly as he nodded, satisfied with your answer and your willingness to be with him. Certain of your decision, Mujin then placed a kiss on your forehead before turning to the gold French doors of his bedroom. He slowly pulled the doors open to reveal the most lavish bedroom you had ever seen; a California King bed that was dripping in red satin sheets, a mirror hanging on the ceiling, and gold accents that would make King Midas jealous. Mujin then turned to you as he was already unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt, “Get on the bed for me and I’ll show you the last vital point, babygirl.”

Being the good girl you were, you eagerly skipped to the bed in the middle of the room, laying on your back and waiting for further instruction from Mujin. When you looked up, you saw that Mujin had already discarded his shirt and was now fumbling with his belt, sliding the leather out of his belt loops and wrapping it tightly around his veiny hands. Mujin could see your eyes widen immediately from the scene but quickly reassured you, “Don’t worry dear, I won’t be using this on you... Tonight.”

Clothes were thrown every which way as Mujin had already joined you, his bare body pinning you down to the mattress as you two shared a passionate makeout session. Your tongues were exchanging saliva at a rapid rate while Mujin slipped his fingers in between your legs, tracing figure eights into your painfully swollen clit. Mujin knew exactly how to get you to your breaking point and was determined to push you past it.

“Does that feel good baby?” Mujin asked, already getting his answer by the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull, his fingers quickly picking up speed to prolong the sexiest look he had ever seen from you. You wanted to answer him with your own words, but you were starting to see stars as Mujin switched to having his thumb toy with your clit as two fingers slipped inside of your pulsing pussy. Mujin curled his fingers up so he could hit your G-spot, stroking up into your walls until he felt you open up just enough for him to fill you with something else.

Satisfied with the state he left you in, Mujin denied your impending orgasm from his fingers and pulled his hand away from you, but not before looking at the thick sheen on his fingers and then licking your essence off. You swore you could’ve cum from the eye contact he was making with you as his tongue swirled between his digits, but you were glad you didn’t as Mujin gave himself two quick pumps to his already leaking cock that was to be buried deep inside of you.

As Mujin stroked himself to his full length that was more than impressive to say the least, Mujin then turned his attention to you again, nestling his lower half in between your legs. He was enamored by the way your pussy was glistening, licking his lips at the sight and really wanting to taste you, but that would be for a different time. Right now, all Mujin wanted to do was bury himself deep inside of you and fuck your imprint into his mattress to always be reminded of this night. “Groin.”

Mujin then sheathed his cock inside of you, pushing inch by inch the more you became relaxed with him. You were already turned on beyond repair so it wasn’t that hard for Mujin to slip inside of you, but you were still pleasantly tight enough for Mujin to bury his face into your neck and moan huskily into your ear. You could feel his body shiver in pleasure just from entering you, smirking slightly to yourself. But that smirk was quickly replaced with a look of pure ecstasy as Mujin gripped the headboard above you, pumping his cock deep inside of you.

“F-Fuck Mujin,” You gasped as you struggled to find purchase on the satin sheets below you, Mujin reaching down momentarily to place your hands on his broad shoulders, as if to tell you to hold on. Obeying his silent command, you gripped onto his shoulders as Mujin took his free hand to pin your hip to the mattress, throwing himself deeper inside of you and hitting all the right spots.

As Mujin’s cock dragged along your walls, you could feel yourself getting ready for your first orgasm of the night. Mujin looked down through hooded eyes to see your eyebrows knitting together and your mouth hanging open, letting out the sexiest moans he had ever heard. This only made Mujin hone in his strokes, smacking his hips against yours to fill the room with sounds of pure sin. Mujin took his other hand from the headboard to grip your other hip to keep you right where he wanted as he continued his lusty assault on your pussy. That’s when the band snapped.

Your orgasm washed over you intensely, so intensely that you had arched your back off of your mattress to the point that your pert nipples connected with Mujin’s glistening body, crying out for Mujin and sinking your nails deep into Mujin’s honeyed skin. Moans spilled out of you pathetically as your nails dragged down Mujin’s back, him continuing to pump his cock inside of your trembling pussy. He was desperately trying to chase your orgasm with his own, but he wouldn’t mind fucking you for as long as he possibly could. “On your hands and knees baby girl.

Although you wanted to protest with him since he had just rocked your world and you were in no shape to be moving, Mujin slid himself out of your slick to make you do what he said or you wouldn’t be cumming again. Sighing in protest, you slowly rose to your knees and turned away from Mujin, but now before he cupped your face and gave you a passionate kiss as a reward for being so compliant. The second you got on your hands and knees though, a new Mujin came forward.

Mujin’s hands gripped either side of your hips forcefully, stabilizing himself before he rammed himself into your walls with no proper warning. But surprisingly, you didn’t scream out from the sudden intrusion. Instead, you moaned out in pure pleasure, lurching forward and barely being held up by your elbows as your back was bent in the most attractive angle to Mujin. That’s what he lost himself in you.

Lust completely took over his brain as Mujin leaned forward to grip your hair, yanking you up so that your back lay flush against his chest, continuing to pump himself deep inside of you. “Come on baby. I want you to cum again,” Mujin demanded as he gripped your hair tighter, earning more moans from you as you approved of this rough and dominate side of him. Mujin then let your hair go so that you could fall forward again, but this time he leaned forward to push your head into the mattress and angle his hips downward to get a deeper thrust.

“Mujin!” You cried out into the pillow as you came for the second time tonight, gripping onto the sheets so tight that your knuckles had turned white from the tension. You walls pulsed tightly around Mujin’s cock as you screamed out for him, shuddering hard around him and milking his cock until you got what you wanted. Shortly after you had came, Mujin finally came inside of you, ropes of cum painting your slick walls with his essence. He had been waiting to do this for weeks now and he can’t wait to get even more of you.

As the night had began to wind down and you were all showered up thanks to Mujin washing your hair and wiping away certain body fluids in the shower, you found yourself sitting in Mujin’s arms, looking in the mirror that was opposite his bed. Mujin’s arms were wrapped tightly around you as he placed his lips softly on your arm, pecking you quickly before raising his head and looking at your eyes in the mirror, “You and I were meant to be together, my love. And as long as we’re together, nothing can stop us.” You liked the sound of that.

#My Name #my name netflix #kdrama #kdrama smut #choi mujin #Choi Moo Jin #Choi Mujin smut #Choi Mujin fan fiction #Choi Moo Jin fanfiction #Choi Moo Jin smut #Choi Mujin fanfiction #My Name smut #My Name fanfiction #Park Heesoon #Park Heesoon smut

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nagichi-boop · 2 years ago

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Psychonauts fanfic - Overworked (Pt.1)

[ x ] - [Part 2]

Of course the best thing to do when finishing all the playthroughs for Psychonauts is to write a comfort fic lol.

Just a quick note for when you read this: a dash “-“ between paragraphs indicates a switch between what scene we are in (so if there are characters in different places, a dash indicates we are going to where another character is) or a change in time. Any speech written in italics indicate that it was communicated telephathically.

Spoilers for Psychonauts 1 and 2

— x —

“Pootie? Little Pootie, are you up, baby?” Donatella called out to the caravan, which Raz had been convinced to sleep in the night before. He had a dorm within the Motherlobe now that he was a Junior Psychonaut, but given the events of the past few days, his parents urged him to sleep in his old room as it would be more familiar to him. Deep down, Raz wanted to sleep in his new dorm as a fresh start, but seeing the worry on his mother’s face was enough to convince him to sleep with the family for the night.

Raz drowsily opened his eyes which seemed to be heavier than usual, but he chalked it up to not having slept well for the past few days. He was too busy saving the world, after all. Raz slowly sat up, then felt a throbbing in his head, causing him to hold it. He then recoiled as he felt heat emanating from his head. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was sick with a fever.

“Pootie sweetie, are you okay? Are you still asleep?” his mother called out again. Raz shakily got on his feet, taking a moment to gain his balance, then quickly threw on his clothes before walking to the door of the caravan. “Oh my little Pootie,” Donatella exclaimed. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.” Raz, still half asleep, stared blankly at his mother. “Let me check your temperature,” she added, which seemed to snap Raz out of his daze. He knew he wasn’t well, but he didn’t want to miss his first day as a Psychonaut. Who knew what might happen if he wasn’t there!

“It’s okay, mom,” Raz replied a little shakily. “I am still just a bit worn out from all that’s been happening. But I’ll be okay!” Before his mother could object, Raz activated his levitation ability and rolled away as quickly as he could. Once he’d gotten some distance away, he deactivated it, then stopped and stumbled sideways against a tree, catching his breath. ‘Did I really get that unfit since leaving the circus?’ Raz thought to himself, then shook his head dismissively and began to walk towards the Motherlobe, evading his family dotted around the forest as he made his way there.

He promptly walked up to the reception. “Good morning,” Raz chirped to the receptionist. He began to feel a bit faint, so he played it off by pretending to be smug, then rested his arm on the desk. “Are there any messages for me?”

The receptionist raised her eyebrow. “Weren’t you the intern that started here the other day?”

“Former intern, actually,” Raz corrected, briefly snapping back to his usual self. “It’s a long story, but today is my first day as an agent.”

“There hasn’t really been any announcements to pass along,” she replied.

Raz suddenly appeared a bit worried. “What do you mean? There has to be something, right?”

“Sorry int..agent, but there isn’t always some crisis that needs solving.” She then looked at the anxiety on Raz’s face. “If you are really looking for something to do, perhaps ask one of the other agents if there is anything you can help them with? At the very least it will give you a bit training.”

Raz lit up a little. “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day!”

She smiled back. “Enjoy your first day on the job, agent.”

Raz walked around the Motherlobe aimlessly for a bit, then was struck with an idea. “I know! I will go see if Agent Nein is doing any science experiments I can help with.” He coughed a little, then made his way to Sasha’s lab. He walked in, then noticed Sasha sat by his desk eating some food. “Hello Agent Nein!” Raz greeted cheerily. “Whatcha doing?” Sasha looked up at Raz then back to the papers in front of him. “Good morning, young man. I’m just eating some breakfast and talking with Agent Vodello while reviewing some paperwork. How can I help you?” “I was going to ask you that actually,” Raz replied. “The receptionist said that I should ask an agent if they needed any help in hopes of learning something.”

Sasha pulled out a chair next to him, filling Raz with glee. To Sasha’s surprise though, he didn’t rush to get to the seat, taking his time to walk to the chair. Raz sat down beside Sasha, looking at the paperwork that he was reading.

“Is that…a list of applicants for next week’s Whispering Rock Camp?” Raz asked with a concerned tone. “I’m still surprised that is happening, all things considered.”

“Well, Coach Oleander has been dealt with thanks to your help. We have reviewed the situation and determined that there is no real risk to carrying out the camp next week. Plus as I told you yesterday, the camp is the Psychonaut’s main source of revenue.” Sasha mentally prepared himself for Raz to kick up a fuss, but to his surprise, Raz let at a quiet hum of acknowledgement and continued to blankly glance at the paperwork. “Is something wrong, darling?” Milla asked Sasha through their thoughts. “Your mind has gone oddly quiet.”

“Razputin seems to be hiding something,” Sasha replied sceptically. “He isn’t acting his usual energetic self. He seems sluggish somehow.” “Well, have you tried asking the poor dear?” Milla questioned.

“You know that isn’t really my specialty. Though I suppose given the events of late, it is worth asking at the very least. He has had a busy few days and a lot to process.”

Sasha glanced over at Raz, who he noticed was gently rubbing his arms. “Are you okay, Razputin? You don’t seem to be your usual self.” Raz flicked his head to look at Sasha as though he were frightened by his question.

“Of course I am,” Raz hastily responded, then remembered his mother’s words about lying and got nervous. “Well, okay, maybe I’m not 100% myself, but I think I am just anxious about it being my first day.” He rubbed his arms again. “Plus it’s a bit cold in here,” he added without thinking. “Cold?” Sasha replied confused. “It shouldn’t be cold in here. The heating is on.” Raz suddenly remembered that he was trying to hide his illness and began to panic, worrying he had tipped Sasha off.

“Oh it’s nothing, maybe I just felt a cold draft,” Raz spoke frantically, jumping up from his seat. He then stumbled back a little, instinctively grabbing his head again as it began pounding. He continued to wobble backwards as the room began to spin. “Actually, m-maybe if I can warm up the place up…” Raz’s voice began to wane. Sasha grew concerned and stood up, then walked a little towards Raz before he heard crackling to his side. He looked over and saw that the paperwork he was looking at was on fire.

“Razputin, calm down!” Sasha yelled, then took his jacket off and fanned off the fire from the paperwork. He then looked back at Raz, who was glancing around the room as though he were in a daze, his stance unsteady. “Razputin, can you here me?”

“What is happening, darling?” Milla asked with concern, but Sasha didn’t respond. He dashed towards Raz, who collapsed and was caught by Sasha. He then placed the back of his hand on Raz’s forehead and then quickly pulled it away after feeling how hot it was.

“Milla, do you think you could bring some cold blankets and ice packs and meet me at Razputin’s dorm room? I believe he has a fever.“

“Of course! I will be as quick as I can.”

Sasha used his telekinesis to lift Raz up, then paused for a moment before deciding to carry him on his back. “It would be best to act with caution for his condition,” he whispered to himself aloud. He took one last glance at the burned up paperwork, then sighed and left his lab.As he approached Raz’s dorm, he met eyes with Milla who appeared very concerned. She then rushed towards Sasha.

“Oh my stars, is the darling okay?” she asked frantically.

“It appears he is suffering from a fever,” Sasha answered trying to appear stoic. “And a bad one at that. He started using his pyrokinesis in my lab.” “Oh dear,” Milla spoke, then walked behind Sasha to inspect Raz. “He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

“He is fine. Once I ascertained that he was not well, I rushed towards him and caught him as he was fainting.” Sasha then paused for a moment. “He burned a few documents, but I am sure I can work it out later. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

“Let us not delay, darling. The poor boy needs his rest.”

The two of them gently held Raz out in front of the Thinkerprint scanner, then entered Raz’s room. Sasha raised an eyebrow curiously as he walked towards the bed.

“It looks untouched,” he commented. “I didn’t think Razputin would be such a tidy person.” “Did he not tell you?” Milla asked. “He decided to stay with his family last night to recover from everything that happened.”

Sasha set Raz down on the bed carefully, then tried to figure out what had caused this situation. Raz was panting, his face streaming with sweat, to which Milla draped a cold blanket over him and placed an ice pack on his forehead. Sasha’s eyebrows then raised.

“Could it be that this fever was caused by overwhelming stress?” Sasha speculated.

“Well that would certainly make sense,” Milla agreed. “I don’t know all the details, but he has been through a lot these past few days. Even agent Forsythe needed a break, and she didn’t even go through half of what the poor boy did!”

Sasha then looked at Raz who seemed to be relaxing a little, his breathing slowing down. “I don’t understand,” Sasha spoke somewhat agitatedly. “If he really was stressed, why wouldn’t he have told someone?” “Oh Sasha, darling,” Milla sighed. “The boy was so excited to do anything necessary to help, he probably didn’t even realise it himself. You more than anyone should understand what it’s like to not want to ask for help.”

Sasha stayed silent for a moment. “I suppose I will have to add how to ask for help on the list of things to train him on.” Milla raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, darling?” She then smirked teasingly. “Do you intend to become his mentor?”

“Well, he does need someone to train him. We all need to be taught things from time to time. Besides, his former mentor turned out to be the mole of the Psychonauts.”

Milla smiled approvingly. “I’m sure Razputin would be thrilled to work with you, but we have the camp next week, remember?”

“I am aware,” Sasha answered. “I will find some work for Razputin to do in my absence. Perhaps I could even have him on standby in case something happens.” “I am sure he would willingly agree to that, but is that really a good idea?” Milla questioned. “He has already fallen ill because of the work. Maybe it’s best we let him ease back into it, hmm?” The two of them silently stared at Raz for a while.

“He seems to be stable for now,” Sasha spoke. “But we should probably have someone to watch over him in case he starts reacting again.”

“I will try and psychically reach his father. I’m sure he will willingly look after his son.” They stepped out of the room and then Milla closed her eyes for a minute. “Alright, I have contacted his father and instructed the receptionist to have someone guide him to Razputin’s room and to give him temporary Thinkerprint access to Razputin’s room. I’ve also asked that we be granted access for the time being so that we may help out should something happen.”

“Very good. If you are free, let us go together to discuss what to do about Razputin when he feels better.” The two of them walked in silent thought towards Sasha’s lab. “You know,” Milla spoke up softly. “Perhaps the reason Razputin did not talk to us was because we made him feel that he couldn’t.” Sasha furrowed his brows. “Whatever do you mean?”

“When we were at camp, we didn’t exactly listen to him when he tried to warn us about what Coach Oleander was doing. And again when we ignored Coach being brainless. Perhaps if we had listened, maybe would could have protected him and Razputin would not have had to merge psyches with him.” “You know as well as I do that dwelling on ‘what ifs’ can be harmful, dear Milla.”

“But not just that! He was told by Truman, or well Gristol, to keep his mission to help Ford secret. Is it possible he maybe feels responsible for that, too?” “Ridiculous,” Sasha scoffed. “Not even we knew what Gristol was up to, let alone that he was acting as Truman. It would be foolish for him to blame himself.” Sasha then took a moment to contemplate. “Then again, he is so capable that I often forget that he is still a young boy. And though we know parts of his past, none of the Psychonaut agents have been inside his mind. Perhaps it would have been wise to check up on him after recent events.” Milla gently took hold of Sasha’s hand. “You know, a wise agent once told me that worrying about ‘what ifs’ can be harmful.” Sasha chuckled, squeezing her hand back. “Let’s get to work so that we can be ready for when Razputin feels better, hmm?”

Raz slowly opened his eyes and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. His body ached and felt heavy, so he didn’t have the energy to move.

“Ah, you are awake,” a familiar voice spoke. Raz turned his head to the side sluggishly and saw his father sat smiling beside him. “How are you feeling, son?”

“I’m…tired,” Raz replied slackingly. “What happened?”

“I was told you passed out in Mr Nein’s arms.”

Raz’s face somehow became more red that it was. “I passed out…in Agent Nein’s arms?” he croaked anxiously.

His father playfully laughed. “Don’t worry, my boy. I was told that he is only concerned about your feeling better.” Raz paused curiously. “How did you hear all of this?”

“That lady counsellor from your camp – Milla Vodello was it? She has been using her psychic powers to talk to me.” Augustus’ eyes lit up. “It’s rather fascinating actually. I never knew how much you could do with you mind.”

Raz smiled weakly. “You really have changed. Just a few days ago you would have…” Raz stopped, realising he didn’t want to finish his sentence. He then looked up at the ceiling. He chuckled anxiously. “Ah, never mind!”

Augustus became serious all of a sudden. “Razputin,” he spoke kindly. “I know the past few days have been difficult for you. They have been difficult for me, too. But you don’t have to do things alone anymore. You know that, right?” Raz briefly met eyes with his father before looking back up at the ceiling.

“It’s just…” Raz paused for a moment, trying to compose his jumbled thoughts. “I keep having nightmares.” He moved the arm furthest from his father to his other hand, lightly scratching the back of his hand in an attempt to calm his nerves. “I end up back at that meat circus. You are there – or a version of you at least - taunting me from above. And then below…” Raz started to choke up. “And below me is Nona…no, Maligula. She is there trying to grab me. And when she pulls me down, you stand there…watching...laughing.” Raz suddenly pulls an arm up and wipes away his tears, then forces a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s so silly. I know you’re not really like that.” Augustus suddenly holds Raz up to his chest, one hand on the back of his head and the other on his back. “I’m so sorry, son. You have been through so much all alone.” Raz whimpered in an attempt to speak, but instead burst into tears as he buried his head into his father’s shoulder, gripping the clothes on his back tightly. Augustus gently brushed the back of his son’s head as felt a tightness in his chest, leading him to start crying as well. The two of them held each other close, letting out the pent up pain they had been holding back until now.

The doors opened and Milla peered her head around the corner of the room, trying her best to avoid being noticed.

“You can come in,” Augustus spoke, turning and smiling at Milla. “He went back to sleep.” Milla noticed the puffiness of his eyes, but decided that it was not worth commenting on.

“He looks very peaceful,” Milla commented. “He must be comfortable knowing you are here.” Augustus smiled. “I am thankful he has let me back into his life after everything I have put him through. But from here on out, I want to do my best to support him and look after him. I hope that one day I will become the father he needs and deserves.” Milla placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am sure Razputin will appreciate that. Please know that we will also do our best here to support him. We all deeply care about your son here and want him to be happy, too.“ She moved her hand off of his shoulder. “I will leave you two alone again, but please let us know if you need anything.” She then left the room.

Augustus stared blankly at the door for a moment, then his attention was suddenly directed to something grasping his hand. He quickly looked and saw that Raz has turned over and held his father’s hand, still sleeping soundly. Augustus smiled contently and brushed some hair away from Raz’s face.

“I love you, dad,” Raz mumbled in his sleep, catching Augustus off guard. He then hunched over, his shoulders quivering as he held back from crying.

“I love you too, Razputin. So very much.”

— x —

Alrighty, that’s all for now! I don’t know whether to make a part two to this? Let me know if you think I should. Maybe having Sasha and/or Milla checking up on Raz when he feels a bit better and them having a heartfelt conversation about the events from the games and maybe having them apologise for not always listening to him and just generally caring for them.

(Also, please tell me if there are any errors. I think when I pasted this over from my Word document it pasted twice.)

#razputin aquato #augustus aquato #donatella aquato #sasha nein #milla vodello #psychonauts #psychonauts spoilers #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #psychonauts fanfiction #nagichi writes

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early20sfailingplenty · 3 years ago

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Please, Vinny?🥺🙏// Vincent Sinclair x GN!reader (no coded language, ‘you’ used).

Summary: You can’t find Vincent, nor have you seen him for over seven hours. Concerned and wanting his attention are you, so you look to Bo for answers. Bo sets you to rights and your feet take you home to your Vincent with many thanks to Bo. Home isn’t a place, but a person, and you never want to leave. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, so it’s just as well that you’re both totally enamoured with each other. You get your attention, Vincent finds that he was missing your touch, and all is right in Ambrose.

I'm affectionately blaming @imbleedin-out for this piece; she gets me deep in my feelings every day and night and they’ve all spilled out into this piece 🥺🌸. YOU CAN CONSIDER THIS PIECE A LOVE CONFESSION (not that you were unaware at any point; I’m not secretive😂). This is self-indulgent as all hell and lowkey self-insert, too. Who better to give me what I want than me?😂 He's so pretty and I'm so in love omg I'm weak🥺🥺🥺pls stop making me drop my uwus, Vinny🥺🥺🥺🥺 THE WAY HE TILTS HIS HEAD MOCKINGLY AND HIDES HIS FACE PLEAAAAAASE VINNY STOP IT MY MORTAL HEART CAN’T TAKE ITTTTTTTT ~ 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰.

TW; CANON TYPICAL DARKNESS, SOME POSSESSIVE LANGUAGE from Vincent and reader (Vincent’s dialogue is signed and indicated with italics), READER IS MORALLY GREY & A BIT MANIPULATIVE (I LOVE ME a reader whose as bad as the slashers), reader is CLINGY. I guess you could read it as Stockholm Syndrome but I wrote this as a genuine connection with Vincent and wasn’t thinking of anything particularly nefarious. I’m still putting it on this list just in case, though, ELEMENTS OF AN UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP between Vincent and Y/N (though, again, that wasn’t my intention when writing it, but I’m putting it here just in case), MENTIONS OF MURDER. This is honestly just self-indulgent fluff. Text messages look like this. MENTIONS OF CODEPENDENCY IN RELATION TO THE SINCLAIR TWINS (canon compliant). If I forgot anything, let me know!💗

Word count: 4, 991 (not as long as usual lmfao sorry I hope no one minds!!!)

“Uh-oh. I know that look,” Bo shook his head mockingly as he looked up at you from his position on the dirty floor of the garage station. He was sat back on his haunches, his balance impeccable as he centred his own weight while working on his truck. “Wha’s the matter with ya’?” There was a subtle fondness to his tone which anyone else wouldn’t have picked up on. There was always a darker edge in Bo’s voice, but you knew him well enough by now. It was in the aftertaste of his words sinking into your ears that you caught the lighter inflection underneath his otherwise harsh words. You caught the affectionate twinkle in his baby blues, the upward tugging of one corner of his mouth. Bo stood up and wiped his dirty hands on an already filthy towel, only serving to spread the grease and grime as opposed to cleaning himself.

It seemed every day you despaired at how the Sinclairs didn’t take care of themselves properly, and it was all you could do to keep them from getting sick. They weren’t completely unhygienic, but they also lived in conditions which would make the average person afraid to touch anything in fear of what they would find. You still felt your spine crawling to remember that when you had first cleaned up their living room, the cobwebs had been so thick that they were white, completely translucent like cotton candy stretched thin.

“Can’t find Vinny.” The frown on your face made it sound like you were pouting, and in all honesty, you had had the urge numerous times. Oh, but you missed Vincent. You usually weren’t quite so clingy, but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for well over seven hours and it was beginning to get to you. It was only when you had searched the entire house, including the various trap doors which Vincent favoured, that concern crept over you. He hadn’t responded to calls of his name and straining your ears for sounds of the haunting classical music he listened to when he was working hadn’t turned anything up either. You genuinely couldn’t find Vincent, and in your rising anxiety had Bo been the one you had gone to for help. In any other situation, he would have teased the fuck outta you for it. But when it came to his family, his family, Bo did not, would not fuck around.

Bo was only half listening to you while he moved around the garage, tweaking things here and there and scribbling down things on a battered piece of paper on the counter - stock counts, you figured, or maybe odd jobs he needed to get around to - but when you mentioned Vincent, Bo stopped. He eyed you heavily, fully focused on you now. If you took a step in any direction, Bo’s eyes would instinctively track your movements. He and Vincent were very intense and their penetrative gazes were almost identical. Bo knew that you wouldn’t have come to him for help unless you had already exhausted all of your options. He loved that you were self-sufficient and largely independent. You carried out your responsibilities well and you only asked for help when you couldn’t think of anything else. As such, this was serious and Bo wouldn’t let up until Vincent had been located. It was almost amusing to the both of you that the most notorious of the hunters in the Sinclair family had now become the hunted, all because he hadn’t responded when you had called him. “Isn’t ‘e up at the house?”

“Not that I could see. Looked and called everywhere.” A pause and then, “I even checked the trap doors, Bo. Couldn’t hear anything, either.”

Bo frowned and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, feeling increasingly protective of his twin. Where y’at, Vincent? His fingers flew across the keys. Normally he was slow when he typed, and he cursed every other letter because his fingers were too big for the individual keypads, but Bo was best when he was up against the odds, and so the text was sent out without a hitch.

The reply was almost instant; less than twenty seconds had passed before Bo’s phone alerted him to Vincent’s response. The brothers did not fuck around when it came to each other. Basement. Bo could picture so easily Vincent’s slight irritation at being interrupted, but it only made him frown. Why would Vincent respond to him but not to you? You knew what they both got up to, you were as intimate with the town as they were, now, after everything you had been through and worked at just to survive. You were almost as important to the twins as they were to each other, though rarely were you made to feel like the odd displays of affection between yourself and the Sinclair's was hierarchal. That was the case, however. Vincent loved you, you were his muse, but no one and nothing came before Bo did. Their co-dependency simply wouldn’t allow it, this you knew. You weren’t an idiot - you knew that Vincent would pick Bo over you if it came down to it. You had known what you were signing up for when you had agreed to be in a relationship with Vincent, but it still stung sometimes; not that you would admit such to Vincent. It wouldn’t make a difference even if you did.

Y/N buggin’ me t’look for ya’.

Working.

Bo sighed and put the phone away while he filled you in. Your anxiety over something so commonplace as Vincent being too absorbed in his work to respond to anyone or anything outside of his task was amusing to him, but all the same did Bo seek to calm you. He got it, he worried about his brothers, too. “He’s in the basement workin’ on sumthin’ for the town.” The ache in his chest was immediately soothed not only by Vincent’s immediate responses, but also by the fact that he knew where his twin was. To a lesser degree, he was also content with the fact that he had been able to help you. You made his twin happier than Bo had ever seen him, and that really meant something to Bo. Whether he admitted it or not. It didn’t really matter, either way, because you all knew that Bo hid a great deal of his emotions, even from himself, but you knew him and so even what he didn’t say came out in his actions. You knew he cared about you because of the extent he had just taken in helping you. If he didn’t care about you, he would have scoffed at you and told you to fuck off. But he didn’t - much of the Sinclair's emotions and affection was unvoiced, but you had learned to read all of them, and how best to show your own affection for them. It differed depending on which brother you were interacting with, and of course Vincent received the most intense displays of love and affection.

You knew what that meant. You barely avoided shuddering. It was no secret that you did not stomach well the brothers’ work, but the exchange for being kept alive and relatively free to roam the town was that you kept out of the way once said work was underfoot. It meant that neither brother had to worry about you, and it also meant that you got some blissful alone time to do... whatever it was you wanted to do. You usually chose to clean the house, engage in your hobbies and make sure that any visitors brought up to the house didn’t see you. You were getting used to diving under the pool table or vaulting over the back of the sofa at a second’s notice, and your general reflexes in your daily life had greatly improved as a result. It was like Lester had once said to you, you can get used to anythin’ if y’re ‘round it long enough.

You knew that it made you just as bad as the brothers were, but you had never really found it in yourself to care. You had forged from the fires a home for yourself here. You had found love with Vincent (and, oh, it had been the slow burn to end all slow burns), you had found a best friend in Bo (not that he would ever allow you to call him that, but you were close enough that he very rarely came to you for reassurances at three in the morning when he just couldn’t take it anymore), and you had found another confidant and friend in Lester. When the twins were too much or you just needed some time away from the town, you liked to accompany Lester on his job and sit in his truck making bad (great) puns, chatting together and forgetting the world for just a few wonderful hours. Lester loved spending time with you, and he had gotten Bo to fix both side windows so that you could both indulge in the feeling of the wind passing over your faces to minimise or keep away the smell of roadkill. In short, you had found a home in Ambrose, and with it came everything you didn’t know you needed until you had it, and, oh, you wouldn’t trade a second of it for anyone or anything.

You had almost died for the privilege to stay in Ambrose alive and well, and now, months later, you would die before you left. As much as the ghost town was your home, though, and as much as Bo and Lester loved you in their own ways and as much as you loved them, nothing and no one was as close to you, as precious or as rare to you as Vincent was. Vincent was your everything. He was your silent companion in many things and you spent much of your days with him. The soft candlelight in his basement, the distant roaring of the engines, the gentle scraping and hissing of the wax as he worked on a sculpture or the bristles of a brush on paper, his looming form and the long shadows it cast... everything about him was so mystifying to you. He was so dangerous, this you knew well. He was a hunter, a tracker, quiet and fast. Deadly was he. He took from people what they didn’t know they were giving him just by being in his presence. He murdered so quickly that most didn’t know they were dead or even how they had died. Brutal was your Vincent, but that was just it... he was yours and you loved him all the more for who he was.

“Thank you,” You gave Bo a slightly watery smile, feeling oddly tender and not knowing why. I just want Vincent was a common thought this day, and it came with the urge to crawl up into his lap and forget the rest of the world. Clearly, you were wanting, no, needing his attention. Who were you to deny yourself, even when it depended on someone else to fulfil your needs? You were sure Vincent wouldn’t deny you; you were his muse, and he always took real good care of you. Just as you tried to do the same for him.

“Ah, christ,” Bo rubbed at the back of his neck, uncomfortable was he. He recognised the signs that you were going to cry if this carried on and he did not want to have to deal with that. He frowned, and then, “When’d ya’ say ya’ last saw ‘im?”

“He went down just after you left and I haven’t seen him since, so that’s... maybe seven hours ago. Just over, I think.” May as well just tell ‘im you were clock-watching, you mentally eye-rolled at your own transparency, but you knew that Bo would have realised it anyway. Why else were you down here asking him about his twin?

“S’no harm in goin’ down ta’ ‘im if ya’ want. I reckon he’d be happy to see ya’, s’been so long.” Bo turned away from you with a shrug and picked up something he needed to continue working on his truck. You saw the dismissal for what it was.

“Thanks, Bo.” You gave him a gentle smile, truly grateful not just for his help but also for the emotions he had expressed towards you as he did so. He cared. You would have considered him to be cold, once upon a time, but you knew better by now. You knew Bo and you were aware of how he expressed himself better than perhaps even he did.

Bo waved you away, already back at work, though on what, you knew not, and it was only when you were out of sight and your footsteps were receding at a steady pace away from the garage and towards the house of wax that he pulled out his phone and shot Vincent another text.

Sent a teary Y/N your way. I ain’t dealin’ with that shit.

Down in the basement, Vincent frowned as his beautiful eye took in Bo’s message. He sighed and set aside his main work project in favour of being able to give you all of his attention when you arrived. You knew the route like the back of your hand by now so it wouldn’t be more than a few minutes at most. It wasn’t a usual practice for you to seek him out like this, content were you to let him come to you when he was finished with his work. You understood how important it was and you marveled at what he was capable of; the good, the bad and everything in between. Vincent supposed he could use a break as he put his mask on; you loved his face, you truly did, but he felt better and more comfortable with his wax mask on. If his muse was needing his attention to the point where you had gone to Bo for help, then he couldn’t, wouldn’t, turn you away. That would be cruel and Vincent wasn’t a cruel man. Not to you, at least. People who came into the town were a different story, however, a slave was he to his calling, to his art and to finishing what his momma started.

A floor up, you entered the house of wax and stood in the dusty foyer. Your nose wrinkled against all the dust in the room, and you vowed to get around to dusting soon. What was the point of Vincent working so damn hard all the time if he was just gonna let it get all dusty and gross? You wondered if dust degraded the wax, somehow. Surely if you phrased it that way, he’d want to help you clean it up... It was manipulative, but you’d picked that up from Bo. It was a means to an end, and once Vincent saw how much cleaner his art looked, it would probably become just something else he’d do every damn day like he knew nothing else of life. You weren’t sure he did.

You spotted Jonesy in one of the alcoves of the opening to the passage which led down to Vincent’s basement, and you smiled as she sauntered up to you. “Hi ~ “ You cooed at her, bending down to stroke her and to smother her in kisses. You could almost feel the way she missed her space downstairs, and she announced that she was leaving with an excited bark. She spun around and ran off, going down to alert Vincent that his space had been intruded upon. It was with a leisurely pace that you followed her, feeling more and more teary and needy as the minutes ticked passed. Vincent was physically so close to you now, but it felt like he was far away with an entire staircase between you. On the way down, you knew that Vincent could hear every single step you took; so thin were the walls but so acutely aware was he of his surroundings, too. You could hear that classical music now which you had strained your ears to hear earlier, and you realised that you hadn’t been able to hear it because of how lowly he was playing it. The volume remained constant as you reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the carved out path around the corner to finally, finally, see Vincent again.

Oh, but he was beautiful.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Vincent had his back to you, his long dark hair matted at the ends with clumps of wax and greasy at the roots. He always neglected himself in favour of his work. You were much the same way, but you both took care of each other so that your own selves were cared for, too. His hands were working away at a sketch, the charcoal between his fingertips smudging with every brush of his pinkie finger. He hadn’t been working at it long, only a few moments, and you smiled to realise that Bo had alerted him of where you had been headed. Secret softie, aren’t’cha, Bo? You giggled to think of how Bo would have reacted to that particular thought and Vincent turned around at the sound, his eye crinkling at the edges. You wished you could see that smile, but you knew he felt more comfortable with his mask on, and so you remained silent. But Vincent heard you - he always did.

“Hi, Vinny!” You bit your bottom lip against the sudden strong urge to cry, the backs of your eyes and nose stinging. How was it possible that he was both your strength and your weakness? You wrinkled your nose against the urge to cry, uncertain as to why you were feeling so emotionally tender and clingy. Vincent had been away from you for longer than seven hours before, but you supposed that it was just... one of those days. Sometimes, a little extra love and attention was required, and that was okay.

Vincent’s intense gaze seemed to look through you, and the longer he looked at you, the more you began to realise that he was analysing you. It was true that he was a hunter, and he always seemed to know just where to go when he was looking for someone or seeking out something. He was a predator through and through, and every intimate piece of knowledge he had about you and your inner workings was being assessed against the you before him. He was trying, in short, to work you out without having to ask you. You knew he was doing it, though you knew not if that was a good thing or not. Most people would simply ask, are you okay?, but Vincent was not most people and he had his own methods of doing things. With his single blue eye fixed upon you, Vincent raised his hands slowly and signed, I’ve seen that look before. What’s the matter?

Vincent echoed Bo’s words without even knowing it. Idly did you wonder how many of the twins’ similarities were because they were genetically identical, if it was because of their extreme codependency, if it was because they had spent their entire lives together, or for some other reason. You would never tell them how alike they were, if only because you were not brave enough to open up that particular can of worms. As such did you bite back a smile, a wave of affection for the brothers overcoming you. “You’ve been down here most of the day so I came to check up on you.” You didn’t bother telling Vincent that you missed him - he already knew. No matter how well you thought you hid things from Vincent, such as thoughts and emotions, Vincent knew you better. It was ironically his noticing that you were hiding things from him which made him pay greater attention. In the end, it was just easier to be upfront with Vincent. He’d figure it out, anyway, and you would be comforted faster if you were just honest from the start.

Busy with work. Nearly done.

You took a step forward, further intruding upon his space. You were his muse, and he always wanted to be around you. Unless he was working, in which case this entire place was strictly out of bounds to you so that there was no risk of you being harmed by anything or anyone. “Can I keep you company ‘til you’re done? Please, Vinny?” Oh, help you, you wanted to pout. It was only here in his presence that you realised how much you really had been missing him. If he said no, it would be a hell of a show of self-restraint to leave him be once more, but you would have no choice but to do it. He wasn’t above throwing you over his shoulder, stomping up the stairs with you and depositing you back in the foyer of the house of wax before going back the way he had come with a pointed slam of the door. He’d done it before and you knew he would do it again if he didn’t want your company. At least with Vincent, you always knew where you stood, and you did your best to give him the same courtesy.

He turned away from you and went back to his sketch. You frowned, not able to fully read his body language from the back of him. The angle of his shoulders wasn’t much to go off, so you went around to the side where he would be able to see you so that you didn’t scare him. He was sat in his usual position, but you noticed that his legs were spread at such an angle that you would be snug between them, and able to move if you wanted to. You ventured forward slowly until you were stood beside him. God, his hair. You absolutely adored every part of Vincent, but especially his hair. It was long, dark, and it served to shield his face from the rest of the world when he needed to let his skin breathe, but he didn’t want for the scarred half of his face to be visible. Your hand reached out and stroked one of the strands away from his face, bending down and placing a kiss to his waxy cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Vincent.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, loathe were you to break the peaceful atmosphere which Vincent crafted as carefully as his sculptures every time he came down to work. His pleased hum as you continued to play with his hair only made you bolder and you stepped forward until your chest was brushing against his upper arms, his head perfectly level with yours due to the height at which he sat on his stool. “Such a work of art.”

A large hand covered in clumps of dried wax came up and pulled off the mask, giving you proper access to his unscarred cheek. He wanted to feel everything you were giving to him, and it only made you love him more in his display of vulnerability and trust. You cooed, your smile threatening to break your face in half, and bent down to smother Vincent’s face in kisses. You were slow, gentle, trying to channel all of your love for him into every purse of your lips, every feathered kiss bestowed upon his skin. Vincent had learned to ask for what he wanted at the same time as he had learned to accept the affections which seemed to burst forth from your chest unprompted. It had been a long, hard journey, but finally had he reached the point where he felt safe in being unmasked around you, even if it was only when you were stood on his unscarred side. You loved all of him, you truly did, but you understood and accepted Vincent’s need to go slowly, and you never pushed for more than he was willing to give. You cherished it all.

Vincent pointedly shifted his weight and spread his legs a little further and you grinned as you obediently, unthinkingly slid into his lap. “Don’t get used to me doing what you tell me, Vinny.” Your comment was meant to be a distraction from the way you melted into Vincent. You were right where you wanted to be ever since you had gone to see Bo, and the feeling of being held by Vincent was like your soul dipping into a bath at the perfect temperature at the end of a long, hard day. You could spend forever with him, beside him and surrounded by him if he allowed for you to be. Accommodating was he, though there were occasions during which he had to turn you away because work had to be done, or he was doing things that you really didn’t want to be a witness to.

He huffed in amusement, knowing you were lying and seeing right through your comment. One word from him and you would do anything, just as he would for you if you asked him to. You just couldn’t, wouldn’t, say no to each other. One of his arms wrapped around you like a boa constrictor to hold you in place upon his lap. His hand moved up and down your back once, twice, before it settled firmly, pleasantly, into the middle of your back. Vincent’s heat seeped into your skin and you curled into his lap, bringing your knees up to your chest so that your feet dangled over the edge. You were effectively leaning on him, depending on him to be able to support your weight. It was a display of trust which he heard loud and clear. To tell you such, Vincent’s free hand brushed any hair you had away from your face and he ducked down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, royalty were you. The hand on your back tapped twice to gain your attention (not that he had lost it for even a second) and his arms came around to the front of you so that you could see what he was doing. You wobbled a little from him no longer supporting your weight from the back but you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting truly comfortable as he signed, still missing me?

“I always miss you, honey.”

Even when I’m here?

“Especially then.”

Vincent was intuitive, sharp, and he saw so much more than he let others know about (his strength was that people never saw him coming and by the time they did, it was far too late) but he struggled deeply with insecurity. He understood well enough missing you even when you were right beside him, but he couldn’t fathom why or how you felt the very same for him. But he also wasn’t about to question it; you were one of the very few good things in his life and he didn’t want to jeopardise that. He melted when you pressed kisses along the column of his neck, and he decided to stop communicating with you in favour of wrapping both of his arms around you once more and tugging you closer to him. You were impossibly close and holding one another tightly, and it was when you whispered a barely audible, “I love you,” that Vincent realised he had missed you as much as you had missed him. Sometimes it wasn’t until you sought him out that he realised he’d been wanting you, and he wondered if you knew just how you affected him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You mumbled, knowing that Vincent could hear you just as well as if you had spoken at your usual level, “Can I stay here with you? Please, Vinny?” Your arms tightened around his neck, and Vincent huffed in amusement once more. His arms flexed around you and he angled his head so that he could rest his lips upon the space of skin which jumped with every beat of your heart. Your head tipped back and Vincent took advantage of all the access you granted him. His lips were slow, precise in where they landed, and if Vincent had thought that you had melted into him before, then he was not prepared for the way your entire body went limp. Oh, but only Vincent could render you so powerless with something as understated as a kiss. Vincent’s arms squeezed around you once, twice, thrice, and the huff of hot air just behind the hollow of your ear made you feel like he was saying, try and leave. I dare you.

Vincent shifted, then, so that you were supported on his lap with one arm around you, and he leaned forward slightly so that he could also continue his work with both hands. You watched Vincent sketch idly, your eyes beginning to grow heavy as the physical heat of the room started to soak into you, as the firm solidity of Vincent behind you and the steady rise and fall of his chest kept you constantly aware of his presence. His arms were tightly around you, his lips were resting against your skin, and periodically would he press a kiss to whichever spot his fancied. It was never the same one twice in a row; unpredictable could he be. You settled into Vincent, your fingers finding his hair once more, and your voice was saturated with your smile, unseen by your love but felt by him all the same, as you said, “S’okay, I won’t leave you. Nothing and no one could take you away from me.”

In that moment, your minds were aligned just like your bodies, for you both thought of Bo.

#vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair imagine #vincent sinclair my beloved😘😘😘#erika sinclair #<--- JUST SO I CAN FIND AGAIN #bc i wrote this for me <3 #house of wax 2005 imagine #house of wax imagine #house of wax #slasher community #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher fic

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fortheloveofwonderland · 4 years ago

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

852 notes · View notes

hockeywhy · 4 years ago

Text

caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!”

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?”

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds.

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine.

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own.

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you.

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes.

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

This was anything but the right time.

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you.

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.”

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile.

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message.

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit.

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos.

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment.

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.”

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.”

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head.

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap.

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days.

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.”

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that.

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not.

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied.

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.”

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.”

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to.

Lying for, you prefer.

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?”

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?”

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude.

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once.

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile.

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat.

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage.

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can.

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?”

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment?

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.”

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple.

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?”

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours.

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.”

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart.

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?”

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug.

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest.

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.”

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.”

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.”

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?”

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?”

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel.

“What song’s that?”

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table.

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?”

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.”

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that.

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night.

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different.

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused.

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title.

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s.

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would.

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.”

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?”

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.”

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

Your phone buzzes once.

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed.

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was.

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa.

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently.

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels.

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk.

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags.

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little.

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.”

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant.

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?”

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can.

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too.

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile.

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot.

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence.

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?”

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat.

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.”

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.”

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.”

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?”

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to.

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.”

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip.

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought.

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both.

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag.

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination.

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours.

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one.

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy.

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.”

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite.

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue.

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly.

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer.

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.”

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done.

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.”

“Y/N—“

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined.

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible.

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders.

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey.

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally.

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?”

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?”

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk.

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception.

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity.

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes.

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back.

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable.

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?”

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.”

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by.

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today.

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph.

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice.

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway.

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you.

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally.

Ahead of you lay only one bed.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol #i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it #anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes #and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it

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spiderling-space · 4 years ago

Text

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him.

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm.

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment.

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically!

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then.

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically.

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings.

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #mc/yuu #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere twst #twst yandere #yandere #yandere grim

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votederpycausemufins · 2 years ago

Text

the next chapter of Something Familiar.... haha... ha...

Okay look... So, uh. I wrote one scene in this chapter, and I wanted it to be mostly mysterious, where you don't know who is involved until later. That being said, the mysteriousness of the section makes it come out… pretty freaking dark. Enough that this is a bit of a warning. There's like… mind control? brain watching? uh… mind fuckery that I'm not entirely sure how to categorize. I will put in bold where the start and end of the scene is as well as put the whole thing in italics. a summary will then be right under the second warning in case you skip it.

otherwise, as it's a hermit tommy influenced story, i am tagging @petrichormeraki

Grian and Flora had quickly agreed that Sahn couldn’t come back to the castle. Flora was sure Sahn would cause a fuss since he thought her very nice uncle could somehow be a bad person. Grian, on the other hand, knew that Grifter was really future him, having replaced the real Grifter. So if Sahn saw him, he would assume Grifter was actually Grifter, while Grifter would think Sahn was Sam like Grian had just done.

While staying in the castle had been nice, Grian originally wanted a place of his own. That was how he met Flora in the first place, from damaging the forest around her base for resources. Come to think of it, Grian didn’t remember actually seeing her base, so perhaps he could also suggest that. Except Grifter liked to visit Flora, so they needed to find someone who he was less likely to visit.

The two of them started trying to figure out where else Sahn could stay, Grian giving suggestions based on his limited knowledge of the place and Flora for the most part explaining why those wouldn’t work. Fortunately, after multiple bad ideas, they were given a saving grace in the form of Astrid returning. At least they thought that all of two seconds before Astrid noticed Sahn, and asked who the new person was, though in less pleasant terms.

Grian and Flora explained to the best of their abilities about who Sahn was in relation to Grifter and why that meant he couldn’t see Sahn. Astrid was quiet for a few moments, her clasped hands with index fingers out and against her mouth being a clear indicator of her both low key judging as well as just trying to comprehend the mess she had just walked into.

Finally, after staying that way long enough the pair thought Astrid was about to chew them out on even considering keeping Sahn around, she finally walked over to Sahn, who was having a one sided conversation with one of the chickens near him, and grabbed the collar of his shirt to yank him to his feet.

‘Do you understand me?’ Grian watched Astrid sign, though Sahn seemed to be completely clueless. ‘Do you understand me?’ She signed again, and Grian was about to say it was unlikely that Sahn would understand a second time, but then Sahn nodded. As Astrid told him to come over to the group, Grian thought it over again to realize that while she said it twice, and he understood what was being signed both times, the two sentences had been signed differently.

Before he was able to think on it more, Astrid had finished a quick discussion with Sahn and was starting to lead them somewhere, causing Flora to pull him along and break him out of his train of thought. He was a bit distracted by Sahn trying to make conversation, but Astrid and Flora clued in to his discomfort and made sure to stay between the two, and Flora held more of the conversation. Grian felt a little guilty though, since Sahn kept trying to talk about the Grifter he knew, which were not great stories and were obviously upsetting her a bit, but when Grian tried to say she didn’t need to help out with this, she brushed him off saying it was fine.

After that, Grian hung back, leaving a large gap between him and the others. This whole thing felt really conflicting. He was pretty sure he liked hanging out with Flora and Astrid. They were around his age and weren’t as blatantly psychopathic as Sam was from time to time. But now with Sahn showing up, he was second guessing if that was real, or if he was trying to make it real. He hadn’t been gone from the drama of high school for that long from his point of view, but he was so desperate for something different and potentially safer, was he just pretending it was like that here?

He knew going back wasn’t the best place, at least not until he could prevent whatever was going to happen, but there was also this part of himself that was telling him that he couldn’t be here either. This wasn’t his world, not yet, and his current situation was leaving him almost powerless.

Grian tried not to listen to whatever that part of him was, he didn’t need those insecurities bothering him right now, but instead of turning it out completely, he just made himself more aware. While before it was almost just white noise, he was now very aware of the voices of his audience. All of them tried to give their two cents, and it felt a bit overwhelming. Though covering his ears did nothing as the voices were essentially in his mind, he still kept his hands there, hoping that blocking out other sounds would make the ones that wouldn’t go away more bearable.

Grian got a bit further before he couldn’t take it anymore. He just wanted quiet. And suddenly it was. A mix of purple and a little bit of green magic had formed from his hands, casting away most of the sounds inside his mind and muffling anything outside. For a moment it was bliss before a wave of exhaustion hit, and a second later, Grian had collapsed to his knees, sure he would completely fall over moments later. He thought he could hear someone saying something, and maybe a hand touching him, but it all just seemed fuzzy. The only thing that got through was a calming voice that was simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar, telling him to rest. And then he was on the ground, asleep.

Silski's house was probably the last place any of them wanted to be right now after what happened with Jane. That being said, it was also probably the last place Grifter would want to be too. And that was what Astrid was counting on. They needed a place to keep Sahn that would also keep him away from the admin. Plus, at least for Astrid, she might be able to talk to someone about what was going on that wouldn't be found out and get them all in trouble.

"I still don't like him being in here." SiIski said, turning to Astrid and away from the others. Grian was still passed out, Flora having carried him the rest of the way once they realized he was no longer following along. He was placed on the couch in the base, but took up most of the space. And Toob refused to give his seat up, so Flora was left lying on the ground as she caught her breath. Sahn stood at her feet since there wasn't really anywhere else.

'Look, I know having him around isn't the best.' Astrid signed slowly. 'But you can't even see him or I guess hear him.'

"I'm not talking about him. Because you're right. I can't see or smell him. Hell, I don't even know if he's still at Fleur's feet."

"He is." Flora answered, though her voice was muffled by the floor.

"Right, well, I'm talking about the bird." And he pointed to Grian. "I know he's not Grifter, but still smells awful. Like overripe fruit and Wassa smoking."

"I mean, he's got some mycelium stuck in his wings still last I checked. I probably smell like it too since I carried him." Flora spoke up again.

"That's just it, you don't." Silski continued.

Trust me, if he thought you smelled too, he would have mentioned it." Toob explained further. "You think he wouldn't?"

"You got me there." Flora conceded.

'Okay, fine. Can I talk to you privately in the next room?' Astrid signed. Silski huffed, looking over to Toob before nodding and grabbing Astrid before dragging her through the base to a mostly empty room lined with wool. Here? You're sure?'

"Might as well. Makes it easier to hear you and harder to be heard."

'Can you sign too?'

'How bad is it. I mean, if we can't even talk...' Silski signed, though it was rough and took a moment for Astrid to figure out what he meant and what words he left out or signed wrong.

'That is not a younger admin.' Astrid started to explain. 'That's his Wels.'

'You're joking. I mean, that explains some things. But doesn't he think...?'

'No, he does.' Astrid corrected him before wringing her hands nervously, still thinking. 'Admin used magic, wiping a chunk of his memory. He's supposed to be a Watcher, but admin has him using Listener magic. Which, and I am not being dramatic here, could be world ending. No, universe ending!'

'Then why?' Silski asked, but Astrid just shrugged her shoulders.

'I can't let anything happen to fox. You would do the same for husband, right?' And Silski nodded. 'That's why I can only tell you. And why I need help.'

'What could I possibly help with?' Silski asked, a bit hesitant.

'First, cover for me if you ever get the chance. Second...' And she paused to make sure he knew how important this was. 'A king and crew are going to join soon.'

Silksi froze for a moment, before slowly nodding. He then moved, starting to open the door as he said, “Okay. Well, we should probably head back. Your friend might be awake now.”

Astrid then gave the hybrid another nod before walking out of the room, Silski following behind. For a moment, Astrid thought the Grian was actually awake when they returned, but a second glance showed it was, which was odd as she could have sworn she saw one of his eyes open.

“So, what was that all about?” Flora asked, still on the ground but now on her back instead of her face.

“They’re obviously cheating on us.”

“What?! No! Why didn’t you tell me you were straight!”

“Guess I need a divorce. I’m keeping Jane though.” Toob finished before he and Flora laughed a little. “But seriously.”

“It’s Dark stuff. And since Listeners use the magic of the Dark, she knew a bit about it.”

“Wait, then that’s an idea!” Flora said, quickly sitting up. “Grian’s doing magic training, wouldn’t it go faster if we went there? It’s supposed to be open!”

“No.” Silski quickly hissed. “I can bear that bastard in my house, but if you think I’ll let him desecrate The Dark, you’re better off dead.”

“So… that’s a no then…”

Silski huffed once more, muttering under his breath. At first Astrid was glad he was playing along, until she noticed he was serious. Well, she supposed it worked either way.

“Can you shut your comm up?” Silski said next, leaving Astrid to leave the room again.

“Astridddd guess what!”

Astrid smiled, glad to hear Vee’s voice before typing a message back through the video call that Vee had started. ‘What’s up.’

“Well firsta all, there’s a big problem! Grian’s not even here!” Astrid froze for a second. She had moved back to the wool room just in case, but she still looked around in case she was heard. “But good news is I’m helpin’ Jrum! He’s my Watchin’ pair! I toldja, right?” And Astrid nodded. “Well, a buncha his friends think that the stuff that happened with him used Watching and Listeny magic, so we’re gonna try and uhhh… I forget what they called it, but they’re gonna do it again so they can figure out how to undo it!”

‘I think they’re referring to reverse engineering. I haven’t been able to get in touch with Papa. Has he talked with you? Is he with you?’ Astrid typed back. Grifter was talking a hands off approach right now with her and Flora around, but before long, Grian would probably be taught more about being a Listener. And obviously that was affecting her and Vee’s dad.

“No, no one can get in still. Kinda. Cuz I mean I got in, and Mr. Hoodie did too!”

‘Well I think whatever happened means Watchers and Listeners can’t get in. But somehow you don’t count so your magic worked to get you in.’

“But I didn’t use my magic or anything! I just got in!” Vee explained, confusing Astrid.

‘But the server is white listed. You shouldn’t be able to get in without magical means. That’s the only way Ely and Lyarrah can get in.’

“I dunno, maybe I’m whitelisty?”

‘That doesn’t make sense. Wait. Where’s the admin. Xisuma? That’s the name, right?’

Vee nodded. “Uh huh! I dunno. I can ask Stress! I’m staying at her place right now. And then someone else named Joe came to visit because I realized Grifter is not a nice uncle and he likes to lie!”

‘Oh? What happened? Was it just realizing Grian was missing?’

“Yeah, kinda. And I told Joe other stuff too, but then he got really really upset cuz I told him that Grifter told Papa about vigil something or other.”

‘Right. Well. Do you know Papa’s secret name? Because you should see if you can get Xisuma to whitelist Papa so he can help you.’

“Oh that’s a great idea!” Vee agreed. “Imma gonna go onto that now! Also somethin’s on your mask k bye!” And Vee hung up before Astrid could type anything more.

Astrid just huffed because of course Vee didn’t say anything until the last minute. So before heading back to the main room, Astrid took her mask off to see what was on it and get rid of whatever it was. She saw the patch of gunk and grabbed it to pull it off, only to realize from the spongy texture and purplish gray color, it was more mycelium. Which meant the stuff on Grian was growing. Well, that explained the smell.

“Alright, everyone grab a cat.” Paul spoke up as they found themselves on the other side of the nether portal, back in the overworld of the fictional reality they were in. The spawn area had looked overgrown enough, but now there was barely enough room for all of them to stand. “Anyone want to cut through the foliage, or should I do that too?”

“I can.” Techno spoke up, pulling out a sword to cut through the vines with. But then Grum moved next to him, pulling out a pair of shears.

“Wait, I thought only your brother kept one of those around.” Mumbo spoke up, wondering if now he needed to keep an eye on both of the bots around his mustache.

“He does. I just made sure to bring every possible tool. I’ve even got a hoe and a fishing rod and a pufferfish! Well technically I don’t have that one right now. Stuff keeps disappearing and reappearing each place, and I guess this is only with stuff present at the time this is from?”

“Makes sense to me. Let’s just see if we can find the center of this mess.” Techno said, getting everyone ready to move. As he and Grum led the charge, everyone else followed along with what Paul said and then did, picking up a cat the moment they could. There were only two at the portal, but that was better than nothing.

As they moved further into the jungle, eventually Mumbo asked everyone to stop. “Does anyone else hear that?” Everyone else tried to listen, but not knowing what they were listening for, they couldn’t tell. Though Grumbot was able to pick out a noise that sounded out of place since he had the hearing of a robot instead of potentially weaker normal ears. “Did someone mention woodpeckers before, because that’s what it sounds like.”

“Yeah, in the past, Bdubs pranked him with some noteblocks acting like those things.” Paul verified. “They were right on his base too, so following that sound should help us find him.”

“Would be a lot better if I didn’t keep tripping every two fucking seconds.” Tommy cursed from the back of the group. He had gotten his hands on a ginger cat, but holding it, trying to keep up and also keep from tripping on any vines left on the ground was slowing him down a lot.

“Need us to slow down mate?”

“Fuck off, I don’t need your pity.” And Tommy tried to flip Phil off. But trying to upset the cat as he tried to also shift it into just one arm. And then it wriggled until Tommy dropped it and it ran off. Plus the struggle mixed with the vines caused Tommy to trip.

One moment, Tommy had fallen to the ground, the next, the vines realized he couldn’t easily get away and seemed to come to life. They wrapped around Tommy, and before anyone could try to grab him, he had already been dragged away into the forest.

Now that everyone had seen what could happen if they stopped, Techno and Grum did their best to cut through the remaining leaves. Unfortunately the quicker pace meant it was easier to trip up, and before long, both Xannes and Wilbur had also been dragged away. Paul was doing his best to help with anyone who was getting caught in the vines, but was getting tripped up himself. The only reason he hadn’t gotten dragged away like the other three was because he was the only one in the group who had some idea of what they were walking into, so keeping him safe was the priority.

Just as Techno and Grum finally cut through the last of the vines and into a clearing, the vines behind the group managed to catch up with the group, twisting around most of them. Techno cut through a few vines to shove people into the clearing, which thankfully these vines didn’t seem to enter, but both Paul and Mumbo found themselves caught by the vines and further back. Since one of the two trapped was his dad and the other was important, Grum ran over to cut the vines up, letting the two escape, but at the cost of finding himself dragged away.

With half the group gone, the remaining members cautiously walked into the clearing. In the center stood a large treehouse, but seeing it was hard in the darkness. Some spots of light came in from above, signaling that it should have been light out, but instead, the sun was blocked out by vines. The entire clearing was made from the vines creating a sort of dome around the base in the center, but there were still vines all over the tree itself, showing that they needed to be cautious even in the clearing.

“So, mind telling us why we’ve got cats?” Mumbo asked. He had picked up a tuxedo cat along the way which was currently flopped over his head like a pair of fuzzy headphones. “I know he’s a creeper hybrid and all that, but that doesn’t explain why there’s so many of them around.”

“Creepers actually adore cats.” Paul answered. “In a completely natural environment, creepers are perfectly fine being near cats. They won’t run, they won’t hiss, they love the things. I once even managed to spy on one purring to a cat. That was a good day for research, let me tell you. Well, anyway, creepers love the things and don’t want to hurt them, but they’re intent on going after us. There’s plenty of research why already, so you don’t need that explanation. But if there’s a cat nearby, they’ll run off so they won’t end up exploding anyway and hurting it, and then they try a different way to you to uh… kill you and not the cat.”

“So if Doc is full creeper, as long as we’re holding these cats, he can’t get us without also getting the cats?” Techno asked, picking up a Siamese one off the ground since he hadn’t gotten the chance before while constantly cutting the vines.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, it might be nice if we stop standing around and maybe deal with the woodpeckers?” Mumbo spoke up. “The sound is getting to me a little, plus creepers aren’t the loudest mob in the world, so it would probably help to make things a bit quieter.”

The group carefully split up, each one of them heading to a different part of the base to disable a woodpecker. Once they were done, they met back up, but one more person was missing. “I know I saw Xisuma turning one off from where I was. So not like he didn’t make it there.” Phil spoke up. “We should probably check there in case he found something. Or… if something else is going on.”

With how many of the group had already been dragged off, no one was really wanting anyone else to end up with the same fate, so they cautiously followed Phil to where he had last seen Xisuma. And then they found him, but he wasn’t the only one they found.

Xisuma was standing still, trembling slightly from the action or lack thereof, of moving didn’t seem like a good action at the time. Especially with the group arriving behind him and the movement catching the eye of whatever thing was in front of him.

It wasn’t Doc, that much seemed to be true. The closest part of it that resembled a creeper was its gaping maw, but even that seemed too wide of a grin of sorts to come close to what was more of a smaller natural frown on a creeper. But otherwise, it was a stark white color other than the vines covering its body. Claws decorated the ends of its arms and legs, which were hopefully red and just had been dirtied to have patches of black, as the other way around would not have good connotations.

The thing slowly moved towards the group which meant also moving towards Xisuma. And since he was also closer to it, that meant it could notice he was moving slightly and go after him again. And that could end up with him being attacked and possibly killed. No one knew what would happen if one of them got killed. None of them had yet as far as anyone was aware, but it was definitely a danger now. If they hadn’t even found Doc and had dealt with the vines and now this, it didn’t bode well for what would be coming.

The thing was inches away from Xisuma when it finally noticed him for real. It hissed at him and looked ready to attack when there was a scream from elsewhere, catching its attention and drawing it away at the last second. But even after it left, everyone still held their breaths for a little longer before finally feeling safe to move again.

“What the fuck was that thing mate?” Phil spoke up first. He was looking between Xisuma and Paul, hoping one of the two would know what that was, but Xisuma was clueless and even Paul had no idea, which was a bit surprising after all of the knowledge he had surrounding mobs of all sorts. “Well, do either of you have any ideas?” Phil asked again, looking at Mumbo and Techno.

Before either one of them could potentially speak up, Xisuma did instead. “I know that yell though. The one that lured it away.”

“One of the Hermits?” Mumbo asked, getting a nod. “Which one?”

Xisuma shook his head after a moment. “I’m not entirely sure. It sounds unfortunately familiar. But I can’t place it. I mean, I can narrow down who it might’ve been a bit. But not quite enough.”

“Better than I could do.” Paul said. “I probably wouldn’t be able to figure out something like that for the most part. I think maybe only my kids since knowing that much is pretty important more often.”

“Do you have any names that feel more likely than others?” Techno asked. “Because depending on what’s going on around here, looking for whoever might lead us to Doc.”

Xisuma was quiet as he thought it over some more. “Possibly Beef, Etho or Ren. They’re closer to Doc compared to some to the other Hermits, at least enough they’re more likely to appear here like… that. Bdubs and Scar are also close enough they could be… but I know that wasn’t either of them. They’re more… distinctive.”

“You mean they yell more, got it.” Techno vaguely summarized before waking past Xisuma, realizing the area they were in had some chests to look through. “Well, this is mostly useless. Just a lot of vines and leaves and other nature stuff. One gapple though, who wants it?”

Once everyone had mentally regrouped, they went over potential plans on what to do next. While Paul had enough knowledge of the Mindcrack days to get them here, now that they had arrived at the base, he was a bit less helpful. It was clear at this point that while the setting itself was from that old world, whatever was taking place was something he was unfamiliar with.

Phil and Techno were of less help since they didn’t really know Doc all too well. They knew of him, but other than this whole fiasco, they hadn’t really done much with him.

That left Xisuma and Mumbo to take charge, and even though the former was the admin, Mumbo was actually the one to take charge. “I remember a bit about the jungle days in Hermitcraft. I went there to put together some redstone. It was a bit of a mess… but…” and he trailed off before leading the others. He wasn’t the best at guiding them, managing to trip on just about every vine he could along the way, but it was better than nothing, especially when things started to change up.

Hidden beneath the various pieces of foliage, instead of jungle wood there was stone. And the stone continued upwards, causing the others to follow it and see a vague shape in the darkness, almost like. “Is that a skull?”

Mumbo nodded, not even glancing at Techno. “When I was around to do my redstone project, I kept hearing this… well it was sort of a buzzing. I mean, if you pay attention, you can hear it from most redstone things if they’re powered or active or whichever. But it just sounded off enough that I went looking. Apparently Etho had been building something called the Nexus before he, er, disappeared. And that’s what I came across. Because of that fact and looking at the redstone made me a bit curious, so I went poking around just a tad. After what had happened with La Revolution, I didn’t want to dive too deep, but I got a slight lay of the land. Vaguely.”

“And so we’re going off your potentially shoddy memory?” Phil asked before shrugging. “Though I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Mumbo replied sarcastically. "Besides, it's not like a perfect memory would work here. We did just go from one world to another. So it's obviously not a one to one."

"He's got a point Phil." Techno agreed. Or were you never going to tell us our uncle had a kingdom not even a day's trip away."

"Whatever. Let's just find the kids and X's hels. Hopefully that will also lead us to Doc."

"That's assuming they're in here."

TW/CW: brainwashing(?) scene, reader discretion advised.

Getting a moment alone wasn’t too hard, it was stepping away that was the issue. Sort of. After deflecting asking where the closest river was, a message sent not too long after helped keep anyone off the trail.

As far as anyone had to know, they had any plans distrusted by Grifter’s whim. Though at the very least, she was heading there anyway. This whole place was a mess. But it wasn’t a complete waste. Death’s connections were abundant here, and she knew how to graft herself in.

Finding the castle wasn’t too much of a hassle. Wing made things so much easier for travel, it was such a shame that this side of the universe made it inaccessible. Pity that connection to the wels wasn’t easier.

That being said, while flight was useful getting to the castle, exploring inside was another matter. It was much harder to navigate, and there was barely a guide inside. But finding her prey wasn’t too hard. Their unique self made it easier to spot where her influence had already landed.

The prey didn’t even notice as she entered the room, too entranced in its project. Almost as if it knew her distaste for the substance it held in its hands. But she could bear it for now, approaching from behind before draping herself over it. “I’m a little busy right now. I just want to get this redstone right first.”

“Oh by all means, finish up. I can wait a little longer.” She cooed, frightening her prey a bit. But she did love to toy with them first.

“What the fuck are you do- who the hell are you?!”

“Aww, don’t struggle, it will only kill you faster~” And the words seemed to work, making it freeze in her grasp. “You don’t have to die, you know. You can be fixed. You can have worth again.”

“I’m not some shitty worthless-”

She shushed it, not letting it finish its complaint. “Oh but it is easy for certain people to replace you. Not I. You are so invaluable to me. I know you want to stay.”

There was silence from her prey. A good sign. A weaker body did mean a weaker mind. And a weaker mind is just easier to claim. “And you can be healed. But those people will just want to keep it from you.”

“I- I won’t again…” That was odd. Why would they resist now? Perhaps their lineage was stronger. Living in a standard home could help with some resistance.

“Oh but I am different. I am not like them. I will not harm you. I will not try to claim this place as my own. This is why I ask for you to follow. Not force.” Though she knows she could force an acceptance, though it would tire her greatly.

There was more silence before she could feel a mental barrier open its doors to her. “So good. The spores will keep you safe. So good for Mother Spore.”

Scene over, summary: Mysterious person travels to the castle in the NSMP where Grifter, his family and others reside. The person finds who they are looking for, referring to them only as ‘her prey’. The other person is frightened until being told that they will be killed/die if they struggle and that they can be fixed if they give it. They relent and it is revealed the first of the two is Mother Spore, who has now infected them with her spores in some capacity, implied to be their mind.

“Well, we found them.” Techno said as they entered one of the rooms of the skull. They were cautious when entering, the vines seeming to have cillected more in there, even just from looking at the door frame, but they were pretty sure it would still be safe as they were still probably in the vine dome.

Getting to that door also hadn’t been the easiest. Though they hadn’t been outright attacked by vines, the vines had definitely found them. Each of them was covered in vines to some degree. Xisuma had the most, enough that it was affecting his breathing as they had wrapped around his helmet, meanwhile Phil had the least, which he was grateful he didn’t need to deal with too many in his wings.

That being said, even Xisuma was fine with how many he had because more coated the bodies of the stolen group members. A wall seemed to be made entirely of vines. Trapped within them like flies caught in a spiders web were not only those who went missing, but also a few people who had been crafted by the fictional reality. Etho and Bdubs were woven into the vines along with what Mumbo recognized were Scicraft members and Paul picking out a few Mindcrack people. But there were also a few none of them could immediately recognize.

Carefully moving through the room, the remaining members of the group looked over the wall. Until they knew that saving all those trapped would release them from this place and onto the next , they weren’t going to bother. It would waste time and potentially also trap them. Even releasing Xannes, Wilbur, Tommy and Grumbot was out of the question for now because none of them seemed to be in any real danger, just trapped and unconscious.

Doc also didn’t seem to be one of the trapped. After also having it pointed out that nor was Beef, the last member of the NHO, Xisuma explained, or reminded in Mumbo’s case, that Beef managed to stay around the longest, Doc disappearing before anything happened to Beef.

“What's the chances he’ll be near Beef?” Phil asked before Paul spoke up.

“Currently looking very unlikely.” And moments later, the other four were following his line of sight before their eyes fell on a creeper hybrid, who mostly resembled Doc, but was missing all of his cybernetic parts. “I would suggest one of us try to approach him, but in our current states,” and he paused to gesture at the vines that adorned them. “I’m worried it would just freak him out more.”

“None of us have been fully hybrid minded during these.” Techno spoke up, though he was probably the worst one to say that.

“Well the one exception to that so far is you mate.” Phil pointed out. “And it was also because something triggered it, I wouldn’t be surprised if the same was going on here.”

“Fine then. Let me try.” Techno then offered. “Who knows, maybe that will help it. I mean, I’m the only other competent hybrid here.”

Phil was slightly offended by that, but Techno was off before he could be stopped, quickly getting close enough to be noticed by Doc before slowly moving closer. Doc hissed at first, but noticed the cat Techno was holding in one hand, so wasn’t attacking. “Hey, sorry to barge in here or whatever. I don’t know if you can talk or whatever, but can you understand me at all? That should be easy enough to nod or shake your head at.”

There was nothing for long enough that Techno thought his assumptions were wrong and Doc was in a more feral mode, but he then slowly nodded. “The jungle stuff is probably a lot, right? Creepers are supposed to like lots of green stuff to hide in, don’t they?” Another few moments before another nod. “But you’re used to it holding bad things.”

Doc didn’t nod, he instead moved his remaining arm near a horrible wound Techno was surprised he hadn’t already noticed. “What caused th- it looks fresh actually.” There was then a noise from elsewhere in the jungle. It was somewhere between a growl and a screech, yet also neither of those. “Doc… what is in that jungle?”

“That was pretty short, huh?” Flora spoke up, plopping herself on the couch next to Grian.

“Yeah, I’m kind of tired out though.” And he flopped his head onto Flora’s shoulder. He was mostly awake. Barely. He vaguely recalled waking up and then immediately ending up training with Grifter. Honestly he’s pretty sure he ended up learning more from Sense who was there overseeing or something than Grifter himself.

“We got into some magic stuff, so that probably wore me out. I haven’t done that much before, so my stamina is probably shit.”

“Darn, guess I can’t ask you to show off or anything.” Flora joked, but then Toob spoke up.

“He better do something to pay for staying here, I don’t like freeloaders coming around this often.”

‘Oh fuck off.’ Astrid started signing, though she was sure Toob would understand it all. ‘I can pay you if that’s what you want.’

While he indeed didn’t understand most of the signing, payment being suggested did get to him, and then a few diamonds were passed his way. And it was also passed in front of Grian, which was enough to get his attention.

“Wait, do you think I could just summon diamonds?” Grian asked, making both Toob and Flora’s eyes light up, Flora then looking to Astrid to see why she thought.

‘Theoretically yes, but only in a way Grifter would notice, and while I’m sure he loves some of you very much.’ She was mainly referring to Flora, but keeping it vague also implied Grian though she knew that wasn’t the case. ‘He’ll probably want to keep the economy balanced or whatever. But I’d totally magic up more decorative stuff if you want.’ And she paused before adding, ‘For special occasions.’

Toob huffed, which caused Silski to come over and comfort them. Grian seemed to have noticed subconsciously that the sculk hybrid didn’t like him, so he scooted away as far as possible when Silski got closer. Flora helped by moving to sit on the arm of the couch before Toob turned to glare at her, leaving her to end up uncomfortably squished against Grian up until Sahn entered the room.

“I’m all done setting up my room thing!” The ghost basically shouted, shocking Silski so much he jumped, setting off some sort of alarm in the house. “What’s going on now?”

“Ugh… great.” Was all Silski said before he was tearing up the floor, leaving Toob to explain instead.

“We’ve got the place hooked up with redstone. Sculks in general can interact with it, so for emergencies, we have a bit of a security system. Usually what would happen is if we were being threatened or something, Sil would set it off, but you freaked him out enough he accidentally triggered it from fear I guess.”

“I was just startled.” Silski huffed, having removed the boards but was now working on a second layer of the floor. “Goddamn ghosts…”

“Do you need us to leave for a moment?” Flora piped up, but Silski shook his head. Grian looked at Flora curiously, not knowing why she asked the question. He was on the other side of the room, so they probably weren’t in the way. He had offhandedly heard from Sense that redstone could be complicated, so maybe he might have needed quiet to think? Especially since ‘seeing’ meant echolocation of some sort, so more sounds could mess with that. Apparently, he was looking too long with a confused expression that Flora noticed him. “That’s right, you don’t know how dangerous redstone is, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Grian asked, now not just looking to Flora for an answer. He expected it from her or Astrid, maybe even Toob or Silski since they were the ones using it. He just was not expecting Sahn to say anything.

“Oh, redstone is radioactive, meaning too much exposure can kill lots of people. Um… not everyone does… oh! Like sculks and stuff are like… part redstone or something so they’re immune! Oh right, and if you don’t keep yourself safe, it kinda poisons you until you die! Or no uhh… no not poison… but that’s the name… Oh right! It actually messed with your code! And It makes it so you can never ever ever respawn.. My boss has had to deal with so many people with redstone poisoning because so many people forget! Like me! Well not forget redstone like me, I didn’t even know about it before I died! I meant that I just have lots ‘n lots of trouble remembering stuff here and there and uh… everywhere too I guess!”

“You know, you mentioned a boss when you showed up.” Grian pointed out. “You never said just who they are. Especially since you said they’re the reason you showed up, and that they told you to look for me.”

Sahn didn’t get a chance to answer Grian’s question. The redstone alarm turned off with Silski having fixed the redstone, which took everyone’s attention long enough for him to butt in. “So that was you I talked to… not Aven.”

Sahn tilted his head, obviously confused, probably from forgetting having met previously, but the others were also confused since none of them knew what Silski was talking about. “You mentioned your boss, and you also mentioned that Perfect Sense was dealing with redstone poisoning. You were also here to see someone called ‘Spore’ to deal with it.”

Sahn looked more confused for a moment. “I did? Hmmm… Oh wait yeah I did! I needed to find them and get them to do that! Well… it was one of the things I needed to do. I think it was just that and Grian… probably… Oh no what If I’m forgetting something else! Hmmm… oh wait, we were talking about Spore! Oh and that Sense person! Well the chickens say he’s aaaaall better! Spore went and helped him! And pretty recently!”

“Is that why he helped me out during this last training session or whatever?” Grian asked, forgetting his first question hadn’t been answered.

“I have no idea! He probably shouldn’t have… but I wasn’t there!”

Astrid then signed at Sahn, not able to keep her hands from glowing with magic slightly. ‘What are you hiding?’

“What? But… but I’m not hiding anything.”

‘You are. Even if you weren’t there, those words mean you know more than you should about either just that, or everything in general. Who sent you?’

“Oh my boss? Oh that’s right I didn’t even get to say… I’m sorry, I guess I forgot again.” And Sahn hit his head a few times. “Stupid Sahn… and he didn’t even say I couldn’t tell you… right? Well… I don’t think he did. Oh and I’m not doing it again… Uh, well, my boss is the Warrior!”

Everyone but Grian froze, faces paling in shock on what that meant, looking to Grian because of what that probably meant for him. “What? Who’s the Warrior? …What’s going on?”

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