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carrotmakar · 4 years ago

Text

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast and @harrysclementines for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes.

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him.

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders.

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out.

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up.

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air.

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat.

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them, constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil.

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen.

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach.

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.”

“Why?”

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?”

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow.

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song.

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room.

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior.

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet.

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch.

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response.

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you.

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.”

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months.

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #okay yeehaw tell me what you think #here's to us

491 notes · View notes

ickymichi · 4 years ago

Text

𝐨𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!

𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

<3 summary: you didn’t know you were failing that badly for him to make you stay back. but you weren’t complaining when he brought you to his office and locked the door.

<3 word count: 3.5k

<3 warnings: nsfw, swearing, soft levi and fluff at then end cause we love soft levi in this house.

<3 nsfw warnings: age gap(reader is of age), degradation, spanking, hair pulling, male oral reciving.

<3 note: this was requested by @jahanaraaaa and i just had to write it straight away cause it sent me into my monthly levi brianrot. tysm for the request & wait my dear i loved it so so much.<//3 but if you enjoyed please like n’ reblog, it’s greatly appreciated!

all contents belongs to fckyaeger 2021. please do not repost/modify on this or any other platform.

The noise of his expensive dress shoes clicking as he moved across and black the laminate floor and his deep monotone voice was slowly putting you and others to sleep. But you had to fight it because you didn’t fancy getting an earful from your professor Mr. Ackerman. Well maybe you would, it’s no lie he’s extremely attractive and you’ve always had an attraction to men older than you. His bare ring finger gave you evidence that he probably wasn’t seeing anyone so it didn’t make you feel guilty about your not so little crush on the man.

“that’s it for today then, and don’t forget the assignment this time. Looking at you yeager.” His deep voice shook you from your daydream and the class was already over. ‘perfect this was the last one! Get me to be-’ “(y/n) stay back, I need a word”. Huh? Did he notice you falling in and out of sleep? we’re you failing his class? Well probably he always gave such difficult class test every week. But was it bad enough for him to make you stay behind?

Packing up your things you made your way down the small steps to where he leant against his wood desk. “you wanted to talk to me sir?”. You spoke with you arms folded, quite frankly annoyed he ruined your plans to sleep for the rest of the day- but also intrigued in what he wanted. you lifted your gaze from checking the time on your phone to his face when you didn’t get an answer. The action was a mistake because you were met with his steel silver eyes looking back at you and the sleeves of his dress shirt straining against his biceps and across his chest made him look irresistible. Shit he definitely saw you staring earlier, shit shit sh- “come with me.” He suddenly spoke up and pushed himself off his desk to walk in-front of you and towards the door at the side of the room. Quickly you followed his long strides, Not knowing where you were going but in the moment you didn’t really care.

Finally he stopped in-front of a door and unlocked it before stepping aside to let you in. walking to one of the two seats sitting before the large wooden desk you sat one one of them and waiting for him to take his place behind the desk. Hearing the click of the lock made you jump slightly and turn around to see him making his way to you with one hand in his pocket. “don’t look so excited, just having a little chat is all.” Fuck is it that noticeable? Well with the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, how your skirt riding up slightly and you don’t move to fix it, it definitely is. “so then, any idea why I went to the trouble of taking my free time to bring you here?”. Why is he acting like you asked for this? “I dunno Mr. Ackerman, maybe is it that you just love chatting to me?.” You could physically see his eyebrow twitch, moving to place his elbow on the arm of the chair and rest his face against his palm he sighed quiet loudly. “maybe I should’ve payed more attention to that attitude of yours”. You bring a hand to your chest and put on your best fake ‘what? Me?’ face. “me? Have an attitude? you’ve got the wrong student i’m afraid, i’ve always been the teachers pet i’ll have you know”.

You swore he was trying to stare right through you with how intense his gaze was. Sighing again he used his foot to slightly sway is leather chair. “listen (y/n) only reason i’m on your ass with the grades is cause Principal Smith is one mine about them.” Scoffing slightly you look off to the side for a moment before looking back at him. “why does he of all people care about my grades out of everyone in this place.” Not wating a second after you finished your sentence he butted in: “cause you used to be a top student only a month ago, now all of a sudden they’re coming out your ass. Care to let me know why?” “Dunno, a girl has priorities and frankly my grades aren’t one of them.” You huffed and crossed your arms back over your chest and pushing up your tits slightly. It was quick, but you seen his eyes flick down to your chest and back up.

“listen (y/n) i wanna go home just as much as you do and i’m not in the mood, so how ‘bout you just try harder when the next test comes around and i’ll try my best to give you the highest I can ‘kay?”. He truly did all seem concerned and all the times you’d fall asleep in his class, cheat on his tests or just not turn in assignments started coming to you along with the guilt of it all. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna stop your little cat and mouse game. “i’m gonna need a bit more convincing than that sir, it’s easier said than done y’know.” Raising an eyebrow at your comment his adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he fixes his suddenly tight collar. “what do you mean convincing?, what do you have in mind?.” He questions, moving the chair to face it in your direction. Spreading his legs, leaning back and bringing one hand to run it through his black hair.

“oh professor! That sounds so, so scandalous! Didn’t think you were the type.” You seen slight snarl on his face before he turned to look at the bookshelf to his left. “tch, shut it brat, you hinted at it. And don’t think i don’t see the way you stare all class long.” He smirks at the end of his sentence, watching your eyes widened before you send him back your own quirk up of your lips. “oooh? You finally noticed huh? Gahhh it took you long enough.” Waving a hand around and turning your face to the side. “Get over here now.” “Hmm? What was tha-” “I said, get the fuck over now.”

The way his voice went down on octave and his stern gaze had you getting up and walking over to him like an obedient dog to its owner. Now standing between his spread legs your hands went to run across his shoulders and chest without you even thinking. They got lower and lower until they tugged at his belt. He took your two wrists into one and pulled you into his frame. “get down.” The short, but demanding command brought a quiet whimper from your mouth and had him chuckling in your face. Lowering down to sit on your knees , resting your hands on his strong thighs. You looked up to see him looking straight back, he always looked intimidating-but from this angle, it felt like he was burning holes through you. “hurry it up ‘teacher’s pet’” his deep voice, with a mocking sultry tone at the end, went straight to in between your legs, making you turn to hide your face. He bucked his knee up slightly to get your attention and silently tell you to actually hurry.

Rubbing up and down his thighs a few times, feeling the muscles twitch under your touch. The sight of his strained bulge in his slacks had you reaching for his belt, pulling it out through the loops and down onto the ground by your sore knees. His zipper and button came undone with ease along with you pulling down his trousers to his mid thigh, just enough to pull his cock from its tight confinement. He hissed slightly at the brisk air and your soft hand wrapped around him so suddenly. Humming at his reaction you didn’t waste another second and let a drop of spit fall onto the tip, waiting for it to meet your fist before setting his cock with the salvia. You saw his grip on the arm of the chair get tighter, so putting him out of his misery, you took him into your mouth and pushed your head down as far as you could before your gag reflex stopped you. “jesus (y/n), fuck do it again.” His scary n’ intimidating resolve crumbling right in front of you just made you want to see the other side of your professor even more. doing as he told you, you pulled back for a short second before bringing his cock back in and down your throat, holding it for as long as you could. The groan he let out sounded like an angel was above you, making your eyes roll back, throat tightening around him. Anyone would notice how hard he’s holding back from nestling his hands in your hair and fucking up into your mouth, and you did.Wanting to feel him grip your hair, you took his hands from the arms of the chair and placed them on the back of your head. He didn’t wait for you to get used to the feeling of them in your hair before he planted his feet down and used your throat as his own personal fleshlight. “that’s it bitch, suck my fucking cock, choke on it, there you go.” he took one hand from the back of your head and pinched your nose, cutting of your breathing and stilling his cock in the back of your throat, not listening to the hits you were giving his thighs.

All that could be heard in the spacious room was the wet gagging of your throat and his strangled grunts. Waiting and waiting for him to warn you he was about to cum- but it never came, all that did was your head roughly getting ripped from his cock. Once you could breathe probably you started coughing from the lack of air going into your lungs. “a-are you. You okay?” he asked with a bit of concern in his voice that made your chest swell. Giving him a small nod he hummed and lifted you to straddle him. “go ahead and strip for me” growing more impatient for the need for him inside you, you got straight to ridding your body of it’s clothes. Just being left in your panties, Levi looked down to see the soft pink lace with a small bow on the front grinding over his aching hard on. “please sir, can you fuck me now.” That name, that name is what did it for him. He brought his larger hands to the flesh of your ass and ripped the panties from the back and threw them to the floor.

The man didn’t even give you time to react before he lifted you slightly and pushed himself inside your tight heat. You weren’t going to lie- he was definitely bigger than you thought, especially for a man of his height. His bruising grip on your waist and the feel of sinking down on his cock had you whimpering and reaching for his broad shoulders. “s-sir more need more.” His strong chest shook with the deep chuckle he responded with. “a bit greedy don’t we think?” “don’t care, want you sir plea-ah!” he cut off your begging with a harsh slap to your ass and thrusted his hips up to meet yours. It all came at once and you feel into his chest panting. “c’mon brat, do the rest yourself since you want it so badly.” His demanding and teasing tone returned as he leaned back to watch you.

Lifting your knees up as much as you could till just the tip remained in you, and then you slammed back down onto his thighs. The action ripped moans from both of you in sync and had you repeating the cycle for another while. Levi thinks to himself for a short second, ‘what is he doing, why is he doing this?’ but you loud moan shook him from the thoughts and threw them out the window. The mix of the leather rubbing against your knees and the sweat on your skin started to make it harder for you to bounce desperately on his cock.

As if he could sense what your thinking, he reached around and under to rest his hands on the underside of your ass and stood up, holding you in his strong arms. He made it look effortless, how he could hold you up and walk to the wall behind his desk. “S-sir fuck wait”. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to feel more of you, feel you cum around him and feel you squirm when he fills you up. “you didn’t wanna wait earlier did you? Didn’t wait a second when you had the- fuuck- chance did you? Just a fucking whore for me that’s all you are. A hole for me to use” His words were laced with venom, spat right into your ear by his mouth along with the stinging slap to your ass. Desperate to feel more of him, you dig your fingers into his shoulders, the skin hidden my his baby blue dress shirt as he lifted you up and back down with the brute strength of his arms.

Levi couldn’t hold it back much longer he needed to see you a shaking dumb little mess for him. He hoisted you so he could turn around and place you on the edge of the desk. You wanted to finally get a good look at the man that was giving you the pleasure you waited so long for, leant back on your forearms you could finally see Levi Ackerman in all his glory. The light from the two windows behind him shone in rays through the blinds and bouched off the exposed skin of his chest where he unbuttoned his shirt, the light flush to his cheeks and the jet black hair sticking to his forehead. It all made him look angelic before you, and you just couldn’t peel your eyes off him. He noticed the slight trance you were in and gave a particularly hard thrust that kissed at your cervix. It straight away snapped you out of the gaze and threw your head back with a loud moan. “fuck sir please don’t sto- hah! Wanna cum on y’ cock please please” moans spilled from you in tangent with his hips meeting your own. “such dirty fuckin’ words for a teachers pet hm? Should teach you some manners next time. But go ahead you wanna, hnngh, cum that badly do it for me darlin’”. There was too much for your fucked out brain to dissolve in the one sentence. Next time? Did he want to do this again? Did he mean to call you that name?. you didn’t care- you didn’t in the moment, all that matters was making him get you to the edge then watch him crumble himself. “yes sir m’gonna cum for you h-hard fuck fuck ahh m’ cummin oh my go- Levi!”

You didn’t mean to call him that, you really didn’t, it just slipped out in the midst of your orgasm ripping through you in waves. But he definitely didn’t miss it, his rhythm faltered for a short second but he seen you were still riding your high so he brushed it aside to keep you seeing stars, and trying to get there himself. “shit (y/n) that’s it, fuck you look- feel so good think i’m close” he grunted, watching you fall apart under him. He needed to feel deeper inside you. Grabbing your ankles from his waist, he brought them to his shoulders and kept up his erratic pace.

You had only come down and he still hadn’t let up. It was starting to tether on the edge of pain and pleasure and you didn’t know how long you could keep going. “No, no Le-sir please I cant can’t anymore fuck!” the moan he let slip out had him turning to hide his face in your calf. “shhh just- jesus christ, a bit longer ‘kay m’ nearly there baby you gonna take it all when I fill you up like the cumdump you are.” He struggled to get the sentence out, biting back more moans. You whimpered at the way the pet name fell from his lips like velvet.

“Sir I think i’m go-”, “‘s not my name princess” you peeked your head from his previous place behind your arm to see his stern stare had returned. “L-Levi..” you said quietly in case you were wrong. “fuck, there we go, now say it again”. His voice had gone deeper and the crease of his eyebrow told you that he was about to follow in your footsteps and reach his high. “Levi I think im, think i’m gonna cum again, please don’t stop it’s so good!” he hoped you were right there behind him cause he was himself. “fuck fuck (y/n) cum with me now, fucking cum you greedy little slut.” Flipping you over, he brought a hand to your hair and pulled you up to level with his face, making your back arch in a painful way. “I mean it bitch, be a good girl n’ cum nice n’ hard for your professor while he fills you with his cum.” He pushed your head back down onto the desk with force and brought his free hand to clap on your ass one, two and three times before gripping the tender flesh in his hand, using it as leverage to pound into your clenching cunt. Too much, it was all too much and for the second time you came, gushing around his cock. But this time it came gushing out of you and splashed onto his exposed stomach.”holy shit that’s it you fuckin slut!”. He brought three of his fingers down to dance across your clit and help you ride it out as his hips jerked against yours, his balls tightening and emptying the white spurts to paint your walls.

When you both were well spent he slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your twitching pussy. He softly laughed when he used two fingers to push it back in you, seeing you wince as he did. Your whole body was sore and, frankly you don’t think you could move any part of it. Voicing your distress to him, it was like he snapped out of the mean, demanding character and flipped a switch to a caring side you’ve never seen. “here ill help” he brought his arm to under your knees and behind your back to lift and sit you on his chair behind him. “I have some tissue and wipes here for you if you need them, do you.. do you want me to help you get cleaned up?” not having the energy to answer him, you just nodded your head and let him crouch down and wipe away the mixed fluids from your body as gently as he could.

“listen (y/n), do-” “i’m not gonna tell anyone don’t worry, besides why would i? wouldn’t benefit me if did anyway.why? you ashamed we did this?” he looked up at you with wide eyes and took your hand in his. “no, no of course not. I just, just don’t want it getting around. could lose my job y’ know.” He whispered the last part quietly. “yeah I know, but i’m not ashamed or anything either, just so you know.” For the first time, in what you think is probably forever, he smiles softly and looks down at you playing with his fingers. “that’s good to know, and when i said next time, it wasn’t just in the moment, just so you know.” You both laughed at him mocking your words. “your not as scary as you seem Mr. Ackerman” looking and laughing up once again he hid his wide smile behind his hand. “is that so? Well thank you Ms. (L/n).”

you were going to laugh back a retort but just watching his soft, plump lips dance as he spoke and still in a smirk had you moving before you could think and slotted your lips onto his. Shocked, he didn’t react at you falling onto the floor beside him, but after a second he registered what was going on and moved one hand to the back of your head, the other to your bare waist and moved his lips against yours. Pulling away for a breath of air, he looked into the irises of your eyes and spoke up: “you don’t have to say yes of course, but if you’d like, i’d love to bring you to dinner sometime. not just as a professor and student shit, just as two people wanting to get to know each other”. Now it was your turn to freeze up and not know how to react. Going through the current scenario in your head, weighing between the options, you wondered what to say to the awaiting man before you. “I u-um.. i’d love to si- Levi” the way his name slipped from your tongue like honey made him flush and sheepishly look away for a short while. “well then I guess I could find some free time for you.” “yes, i’ll have to find time in my oh so busy schedule aswell Sir”. Both of you fell into a comfortable fit of laughter again in each other’s embrace.

The scene looked rather comical really. You-bare naked- and your-half bare- college professor laughing on the floor of his office, while talking about planning dates. Who would’ve thought failing grades would get you here?.

-End <3 part two? 😳

#🧺.fics #🤍.levi #🌹.naughty naughty #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi smut #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi attack on titan

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years ago

Text

lessons in romance // nate mackinnon x reader

summary: nate mackinnon is really bad at keeping a steady girlfriend. so bad that’s become somewhat of a joke between him and the boys. but you come along and try to set him straight.

word count: 14k+

author’s note: it’s finally here. i’m honestly surprised at how fast i cranked this out... which is actually a LOT longer than most people write on here so mayb i shouldn’t brag lmao! this fic was inspired by THIS gifset. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me feedback/reblog!!!!!!

warnings: smut (i jumped out of my comfort zone people. i finally wrote some lmfao) & mentions of a past toxic ex

Weekends were better spent in bed or visiting family, not sitting in a crowded bar with men who reminded you slightly of your ex-boyfriend. You were probably overreacting a little bit because the guys truly meant well, but their overly boy-ish energy was startlingly similar to that of your ex. Maybe a few more drinks would help the cause and you could get passed the sex jokes.

Mel Landeskog was the reason you were there. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, much like her husband, and so you were sitting across the booth from some of the largest men you’d ever seen in your life. Gabe gave you the rundown of their names as they arrived though the only one you could remember was Cale. He was a perpetually blushing 21-year-old named after a vegetable; how could you forget him?

“Do you think Nate’s upset about this one?” Cale asked. The new topic of conversation was their friends’ disastrous date since he texted to tell them he was broken up with and was on his way to them. “They were sort of serious.”

“We’re about to find out,” Gabe announced, nodding towards the entrance of the bar. Nate was on his way to the booth, tired smile on his lips. As he got closer, he started shaking his head and the table erupted in chirps at his expense.

You recognized him from earlier at the Landeskog’s pregame. He was slipping out of the front door as you stepped in. His cologne was the type the good-looking guys always wear, and you weren’t disappointed when you looked up at him. He was handsome with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, and when he smiled, you all but swallowed your tongue.

He began to greet his teammates. The chain around his neck caught the light of the DJ booth and you found yourself gazing at it. You tore your eyes away from the gold at the sound of Mel’s voice introducing you.

“This is my girlfriend, YN, from my Saturday morning Cycle class,” she said. “And, YN, this is my husband’s boyfriend, Nate MacKinnon.”

He threw his head back in a laugh at Mel’s joke as he extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You listened to the quips from his teammates, each one with their own opinion about Nate’s relationship or lack thereof. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time in recent months that he’d been broken up and it had become somewhat of a spectacle to the boys. Mel, who’d seen this song and dance one too many times, wrapped her fingers around your elbow and tugged you with her towards the bar.

“What was that about?”

“Nate can’t hold down a girlfriend,” she explained. “It’s been a joke since he first came here because they almost all have the same issue with him.”

“And what is that?”

“He’s not romantic enough.”

You glanced back over your shoulder and watched the boys laughing amongst each other. It looked like they were celebrating as they lifted their beers in a sad looking toast, and it hit you right where it hurt.

You really saw your ex-boyfriend in the group now and, though you tried not to make assumptions, you found it hard to set the first impression aside. The liquor in your system didn’t help. With each joke about his dating misadventures, you became less of a fan of him and by the end of the night you were bubbling over in annoyance.

Gabe and Mel offered Nate a ride home towards the end of the night and you managed to keep your expression neutral when he accepted. As they headed out to grab the car, you and Nate waited at the curb several feet away from each other.

“I’m sorry about your break up,” you offered after a moment of silence. The statement came out more like a question and Nate’s lips quirked up into a smirk at the inflection of your voice. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re upset or not, so I don’t know if I should even offer my condolences.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not upset,” he began. “I saw it coming.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a girl’s broken up with me for not being romantic enough,” he said. Thoughts were filling your head faster than you could make sense of them. There was no reason for the situation to annoy you as much as it did. You didn’t know this guy and the odds that you ever saw him again were slim.

“So, if it’s not the first time, why hasn’t anything changed?”

“Excuse me?” he asked. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting you to respond like that. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your business

“I mean, you act like a martyr when you probably would be successful in love if you just put in the romantic effort these girls are craving,” you said. Your anger had begun to boil over and words were spilling from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “Guys like you are the worst. You lead girls on and make them think they’re special. Next thing they know, they’ve been wasting time on you and your lack of effort.”

The comment made Nate take a step away from you. His eyebrows drew together in shock and confusion. As you spoke, he turned his body to you and crossed his arms over his chest. The moment you closed your mouth, he interjected. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” you argued, turning to him. You were in a stand-off with a man several inches taller than you, and to any passerby it probably looked a little bit funny, but you weren’t backing down. “I know guys like you. I’ve dated guys like you.”

Before Nate could continue arguing, the Landeskogs pulled up to the curb. Mel hollered out for you two and the topic of conversation was dropped.

---

You regretted everything you said to Nate the moment you woke up the morning after. It wasn’t like you to be so rude, especially not to someone you didn’t know. Your heart stopped every time Mel texted you in the days following. You thought that at any moment she’d confront you about what you said to him, but it never came. As the week carried on, you found yourself forgetting the harsh words spoken outside the bar and the worry stopped.

Until Thursday night.

The knock at your apartment door was unexpected. You met your roommate, Mara’s, narrowed eyes over the dirty dishes you were working on. By the look on both your faces, neither one of you had a guest on the way over. She turned on her heel to check the peephole and the next look she gave you was equally as confusing as the previous one. She still opened the door.

“Does YN live here?”

The voice sent shockwaves through your veins and you stopped your movements, plates held just above your head as you were about to slide them into the cabinet. Nate MacKinnon was at your apartment. Mara nodded at him slowly before stepping back to let him in.

“Hi,” he greeted. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pocket, legs clad in compression leggings and a pair of shorts. He looked like he’d just come from a workout and his hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken before coming over. “I hope you don’t mind. Gabe gave me your address.”

“No problem,” you told him through a shaky breath. “Come in. Come sit at the island.”

He removed his shoes and approached slowly, sending Mara one last smile as she crept off down the hall. You silently cursed her for leaving you with your shaking hands as you cleared the clutter from the countertop. You watched him as he settled into the stool across from you, mirroring the kind smile he was sharing with you.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I have food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. His voice was softer now than it had been before. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It won’t take long.”

“Oh?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped. You wanted to start apologizing right then. You didn’t have a reason to go and butt into his personal life like you had. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Guys like him didn’t care about your opinions. “I’m sorry for what I said. When I get drunk, I have the tendency to shoot off at the mouth.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut. “No one keeps me in check. All the guys think the fact that I can’t keep a girlfriend is a big joke because I’m so bad at dating. It shouldn’t be a joke. So, I’m sorry and thank you.”

You dropped your hands to the counter and leaned against it. The last thing you expected was for Nate to thank you, so you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. His eyes glistened as he watched you and then the corner of his lip quirked up because you started giggling.

“You should not be thanking me,” you said. With that simple statement, the tension in the air lifted. You turned your back on him, indicating that if the conversation must go on, you were going to be doing the dishes as well. “I was just being bitter the other night.”

“You had every right to be,” he said. “I was gloating.”

“You were kind of gloating,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant for Nate to hear, and he knew that, but he laughed anyway. You turned to face him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he said. He didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point. It seemed like you’d apologize for taking up space and that made him feel a bit sad. He smiled politely at you anyway, to signal he wasn’t annoyed by the apologies, and it lit up his features in a way you hadn’t noticed the other night. “Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to teach me to be romantic.”

He delivered it tentatively, as though he was afraid of the way you might react. In the split second that followed, your mouth open and closed twice as every possible response came to your mind. He waited patiently.

Finally, “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure that I’m the right person to teach you this stuff?”

“You’re a girl,” he explained, deadpan. “Girls know romance.” You snorted at how adorably dumb he was. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment and your cheeks burned as he grinned at you, amused by the sound of your laugh. “What do you say?”

---

Mondays were always your least favorite day of the week. Every weekend, your workload piled up and most Mondays you could hardly take a lunch break because you were so busy getting shit done. Whenever you came home from work on Mondays, you were wiped. Mara always made sure to have dinner ready for you when you got in, and the two of you often sat on the couch while eating those nights.

That Monday, you were sure that you’d be in bed before the Bachelor even started. But then Nate showed up unannounced. Mara was in the middle of washing the dishes this time, so you were the one to open the door. He greeted you with a goofy smile and a large electrical wire. Without a word, you stepped to the side and he was kicking off his shoes to enter the living room. Mara caught the roll of your eyes as you followed him.

He was standing beside the television when you entered the room. The wire he’d brought with him was connected to his cellphone while he found a port for the other end. You sat at the corner of sectional and waited, yawns escaping your mouth every minute or so. The day had been long enough already.

Suddenly, the television lit up with his cellphone background on full display. He held it up to show you, a grin present on his face.

“I need your help,” he began. He tapped one of the dating apps on his home screen and immediately you were regretting letting him in. You realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon as he unraveled the cord and plopped down beside you on the couch. Mara entered the room, eyes catching on the beautiful brunette woman on the screen, and then she gave Nate a curious look. “Come on, Mara. Join us.”

An amused smile came to her lips as she sat on the other end of the couch.

“I am not swiping for you,” you grunted, rubbing at your eyes. “I have no interest in judging girls off these apps.”

“Relax, YN,” he said. “I’m not asking you to play matchmaker. Just help me talk to this girl.”

“You need help talking to girls?” Mara asked as she gave him the once over. You laughed out loud while Nate blushed.

“I don’t need help,” he began. He turned his attention back to the television and pulled up the profile of a beautiful brunette woman. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, or douche-y. This girl is perfect and I wanna take her out.”

“Can you two make this quick?” Mara asked. “The Bachelor’s on tonight.”

“And my bed is calling my name.”

Nate peered at you over his shoulder. He smiled at your tired eyes, drooping as you leaned your head on your hand. He leaned back, stopping inches from your face and said, “I’ll make it quick.”

To your surprise, and Mara’s delight, he reached up and ran his hand over your hair before turning back to the television. He gave a rundown about the girl on the television, but his words went in one ear and out the other. Your glazed eyes watched as he typed out messages to her, and you laughed when Mara made fun of the way he was talking. (“Why the fuck are you talking like that? Are you her father?”) Finally, he turned on you.

“Are you gonna help or what, love doctor?”

“Give me the phone,” you said, extending your hand. He plopped it into your palm and watched you type out the message on the television screen. It took you less than a minute to type out a sweet message asking the girl out on a date before you were shoving the phone back into his hand. “You overthink too much.”

“That’s it?”

“Short and sweet,” you noted with a shrug. “I’d say yes.”

Nate’s eyes cut to you and you felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity behind them. Mara cleared her throat as you diverted your attention from him, shaking the feeling you got from his baby blues. She smiled sweetly at the two of you. “Can I detach your phone from our TV now? It’s almost time for Bach.”

You peeled yourself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash your face before changing into sweats and a t-shirt. You returned to the living room to find Nate with his feet up on the coffee table. Mara had tuned the television to ABC and the Bachelor recap was playing. He looked up as you entered and frowned.

“Stay out here a little bit longer,” he proposed, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “We’ll watch some of this and see if she says yes to the date.”

“Nate, I’m exhausted.”

“C’mon.”

You couldn’t say no, not when he was pouting like that. So, you rolled your eyes and walked around the couch to plop down in the spot you’d been before. Before long, your eyes were closing and you couldn’t keep them open any longer.

Nate didn’t realize you fell asleep, but he didn’t mind when you leaned against his arm as a pillow. He stiffened for a moment, unsure of what to do, but a soft snore escaped your lips and he found himself smiling down at your peaceful face. He didn’t move for the rest of the episode because he was too nervous to wake you. When the credits began to roll, he dropped a hand to your knee and shook you lightly.

Your eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and you found that you’d fallen asleep on him. You jerked away, realizing that it was probably too close for comfort, and smiled apologetically. He returned the smile before standing and gathering his things from the coffee table.

“Get some sleep,” he said on his way to the front door. You hummed in response, following him to the door to say a proper goodbye and lock up. He pulled you into a hug before going, shocking you once again by with how gentle he was despite hardly knowing you.

“Did she say yes?” you asked as he pulled away from the hug. “I almost forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, she did.”

---

Lesson #1: The First Date

In the chaos of the week that followed, you’d almost forgotten that you promised Nate your assistance before the date. You weren’t used to being accountable for someone else like you were now, so it wasn’t surprising.

“There is a man at reception asking for you.”

The office receptionist, Debby, was standing in the doorway with a giddy smile on her lips. You knew immediately from the look in her eye that the man at the front desk was going to be the talk of the office for a week.

You stood, following her out the door of your office and down the hall. As you rounded the corner to reception, you saw Nate leaning against the desk. He was sucking on a mint from the bowl in front of him and smiled wide when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have my date tonight, remember?” he asked. One glance at your watch told you that you worked a little too late. You cursed under your breath, turning quickly to head back to the office and send one last email. Nate hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow you down the hallway. He eyed the pencil skirt you were wearing, eyes lingering a little too long on your ass. He shook his head from his trance, knowing damn well that he was just asking for trouble.

Nate lingered in the doorway of your office for a moment before his eyes landed on a picture frame across the room that caught his attention. It was a marble frame without a photo like it had been removed and never replaced. He picked the frame up and turned it over in his hands, then turned to you.

“You need a picture.”

“What?” you asked, eyes still trained on the screen. They flickered up to see what he was talking about and then got right back to work. “Used to be a picture of me and my ex. Nobody’s important enough to put in.”

Nate placed the frame down. He felt a pang of sadness for you in that moment, but distracted himself by moving onto the next shelf and playing with some of the desk games on it. He was in the middle of fiddling with your Rubiks cube when you stood from the computer.

“You’re wearing that?” you asked. Nate winced at the question, glancing down at the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. When he looked back up, you were wearing a shit eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”

“Jesus, YN.” He clutched his heart and released a deep breath. You rounded the desk and grabbed your jacket from the hook. As you swung it over your shoulders, Nate stepped up to help. You slipped your arms through the arm holes trying to suppress the flair up of butterflies in your stomach.

When you reached the sidewalk outside the building, you led him down the block to a florist. Their window displays were your favorite in the city and you often found yourself going out of the way to peak at them on shitty days. You daydreamed about the day someone bought you a bouquet from there specifically.

The bell above the door rang as you stepped in. The smell of fresh flowers hit your nose and you sniffed it in happily. You grinned back at Nate and he felt a tug at his heart at your excitement.

“Can I help you?”

You bounded over to the woman behind the counter, Nate following behind you a little awkwardly. You gave him an expectant look and then his brain finally caught up with the question. As he leaned forward to look at the flowers in the case in front of you, his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“What would you get?” he asked curiously. You took a sharp intake of breath at the lack of space between you and pulled away to look at the flowers.

“Sunflowers and baby’s breath are my favorites.”

Nate smiled at the woman behind the counter and repeated what you’d just said, adding, “It’s for a first date, so I don’t need it too big or anything.”

You laughed at his explanation, and then the blush that come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he sounded. Neither of you noticed the confused look on the florist’s face. She was about to comment on how cute the two of you were, and in hindsight she was glad she kept her mouth shut. He reached out and squeezed your arm as a warning to stop teasing him. You stepped away completely, still smiling stupidly as he turned to pay.

“I’d’ve put roses in there too,” you told him once you were back on the sidewalk. “But this is only a first date. It might’ve been a little intense.”

“Roses?” he asked. You hummed in response, plucking the flowers out of his hand as you continued in the direction of the restaurant he was meeting his date at. “Good to know, you know, for the future.”

The walk to the date spot was only about ten minutes long and most of it was spent talking about your plans for the weekend as opposed to his date. He was going to be away with the team and you had plans to visit family. You kept thinking to yourself that you needed to stop getting distracted by him and his good looks and his sweet disposition. He was dating someone, and that person was not and would not be you, but he kept surprising you with the way he weaseled himself into your life.

“We’ll have to hang out next week sometime, then,” he said, snatching the flowers back out of your hand playfully. You nodded, but you were taken by surprise. It didn’t make sense that he’d want to hang around you without getting something out of it, whether it was dating advice or something more. Clearly, Nate didn’t care and you were beginning to wonder if maybe you’d get a beautiful friendship out of this nonsense.

“Any last-minute advice?”

“Don’t say anything dumb,” you said to him, emboldened by the realization that you might actually be friends now. Nate laughed out loud. “You think I’m just being funny, but sometimes you say stupid shit.”

“Jeeze,” he muttered. “Way to fuck up my self-esteem right before a date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and came to a stop just before the crosswalk he’d be using. He slowed to a stop as well, the bouquet of flowers falling to his side as he looked down at you. You reached out to right them with an amused smile. “Careful with these.”

“Got it, boss.”

You stalled a moment more, gazing at the flowers. You almost felt jealous of the girl going to dinner with Nate because those flowers would look perfect in a vase on your dining room table. “God, I really hope she appreciates those.”

The tone of your voice took Nate by surprise. It sounded a little sad, and full of yearning, and he felt kind of bad that he’d be walking away with the flowers you’d been admiring the entire walk from the florist. Even so, you said your goodbyes and he watched you turn on your heel to head home. He felt stuck in place, eyes trained on your retreating frame while his feet were cemented to the sidewalk. Before he could second guess himself, and his motives, he called out your name.

“Wait, YN!” When you turned, he was halfway down the sidewalk to you and, once he was within arm’s length, he plucked a sunflower from the bouquet and extended it. “For you.” Your cheeks felt red hot as your fingers curled around the stem. You hoped he couldn’t notice a blush. If he did, he didn’t make it known and left with a simple, “I’ll talk to you later.”

A stupid smile sat on your lips the entire way home. You felt the thumping of your heart long after you’d entered your place and placed the flower in the dining table vase. No matter what you found yourself doing that night, Nate remained at the back of your mind. You swore to yourself that it was because you wondered how his date was going, nothing more. But, when your eyes kept finding their way to the sunflower on the dining room table, you worried that maybe the reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was something more.

---

You grabbed dinner with Mel the next Tuesday. Because of your trip to visit family, the two of you agreed to take a week off and reschedule some sort of get together for Tuesday. Gabe was home so he’d be with Linnea, and you were just happy that it wasn’t Monday. She was in the middle of a story when your phone lit up beside you; Nate’s name was on full display.

When’s our next lesson?

You snatched the phone off the table and away from Mel’s prying eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t peak her curiosity. The movement itself was enough to stir her, though, and Mel was soon leaning forward to see what was going on. She reached out and pushed the phone down, craning her neck to read the text.

“Next lesson?” she asked, eyebrow quirking. “Who is this?”

“It’s Nate MacKinnon.”

You said it so quickly and so nonchalant that Mel actually continued picking at her brunch before she reacted. Her fork clattered to the plate. “Did you just say Nate MacKinnon?”

“This,” you began gesturing at her wild eyes and wicked smile, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m totally going to take this and run with it?” You dropped your face in your hands. “You should go for it. He’s a little dumb, but mostly cute. You definitely have the patience to deal with him though.”

“Mel, it’s not like that at all,” you told her. “I’m helping him learn how to be more romantic.” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock. “I’m serious. You know just as well as I do that he’s bad dating. He asked for my help after we met. I have enough experience with douchebags to tell him what not to do.”

“You sure do,” Mel agreed. You laughed at her response and an easy smile spread across her face. “Maybe teaching him a thing or two about how to be romantic will remind you of what you deserve.”

You sighed, picking up the coffee in front of you to take a sip. Mel knew better than anyone, besides Mara, how shitty the guys in your life had been. She met your ex last year just before your break up and she hated him from the moment you introduced the two. He never deserved you and her heart broke the longer you spent wasting your time on him. When you finally ended it, she was your biggest supporter.

You left the message unanswered, not wanting to give her anymore ammo in what was sure to be her new mission. When she got up to head to the bathroom before the check came, you opened the message from him. The last conversation was from Saturday night and he was letting you know that the girl he’d gone out with was looking forward to their next date.

What do you need help with now?

Do you know how to cook?

---

Lesson #2: A Homemade Meal

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook,” you grunted as soon as Nate pulled his apartment door open on Friday night. The grin on his face was anything but apologetic and you pushed past him with two large grocery bags in hand. You brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking them onto the counter.

“I do know how to cook, by the way,” he said, stepping up beside you to help you remove everything from the bags. You eyed him skeptically. “Mostly just the basic meats and vegetables.”

“You can’t cook a date your pregame meal.”

Nate knew that. He wasn’t that stupid, but he did love saying stupid shit around you. You tended to roll your eyes at him, but your lips always gave away how you really felt about his stupidity. The right side always curled up into a smirk, like you were trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest. He loved it when you did that.

“Is this, like, a meal your ex used to make?” he asked after grabbing some spices from the cabinet. You were grateful that his back was turned because the easy smile on your lips disappeared at the reminder of him. You busied yourself with the pot of water on the stove and set it to boil.

“No, my ex never actually made dinner for me,” you answered in a poor attempt to keep your voice steady.

Nate stopped prepping the meat and turned to face you. Questions sat on the tip of his tongue, begging for him to ask, but you wouldn’t look at him. He felt a little bit angry at your confession, though he couldn’t quite place why. Admittedly, he had been that boyfriend before – the one that didn’t cook dinner. Now, he was mad at himself for ever being that guy.

When you didn’t turn to look at him, he dropped the subject. You worked in silence, you busy with the pasta and him with the chicken. As you waited for the food to be ready, you hiked yourself up onto the counter. Nate grabbed a bottle of red wine from the end of the counter and poured glasses for the both of you.

He stood across from you with a dish towel over his shoulder and his own glass of wine in his palm. He asked about work and you filled him in on all the hot office gossip. The smile on his face didn’t fall once as he listened to your stories, and he never tried to change the subject or take over the conversation for himself. After a while, you stopped.

“I’ve been talking forever.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been enjoying it,” he told you. You laughed. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall in your office.”

Feeling a bit bolder, you kicked your foot out and nudged his side. “Maybe I can take you to bring your pet to work day.”

Nate’s jaw dropped, a reaction you weren’t expecting, and you began laughing hysterically at his surprise. He placed his wine glass down beside him and took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your ankle to tug you closer to the edge of the counter. You yelped in surprise.

“Pet?” he asked. You wiggled your foot out of his grasp, giggles falling from your lips as he dropped his hand to his side. The oven started beeping, interrupting whatever moment you were having before it could continue. “Saved by the bell.”

“Looks good, Nate,” you praised as he pulled it out of the oven. “My mouth is watering.”

“Go sit down,” he ordered. “You have to evaluate my presentation and make sure I look good.”

Nate entered shortly after you sat down and placed the plates on either side of the table with a smile. He slipped back out and returned with the wine. There was mischievous glint in his eyes as he topped your glass off and added to his.

“How is it?” he asked, leaning back. A look of cockiness flashed over his features and you felt it in your stomach when you looked at the way his arms were crossed and his biceps filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt. You picked up your utensils and cut into the meal, picking up a bit of each piece before putting it in your mouth.

Nate leaned forward eagerly. He watched your eyes light up when the flavor hit your tongue and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You nodded emphatically as you swallowed your first forkful. He cut into his own meal and the moment he took a bite, he moaned. The meal was so good that conversation was sparse and, by the end, it looked like your plates had been licked clean.

You didn’t stop Nate from filling your glasses again, though you figured you should have. The third glass always lowered your inhibitions.

“How pissed off would you be if I asked you about your ex?”

“Not pissed off,” you answered. You took a sip of the wine, then leaned your cheek in your palm as you spoke. “What do you want to know?”

Nate sat up at this, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t prepared himself with a question because he didn’t think you’d give him the go ahead. He let out a tuft of breath, took a sip from his glass, and thought. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you break up?”

“How long do you have?”

“As long as you need,” he answered. His voice was soft, comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the question.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to break up with him,” you began. “And, if I didn’t have friends like Mel and Mara, I might still be with him. Things have changed now, though. I realize what a crap human being he was but, if I stayed with him, I don’t think I would’ve realized how much better I deserved.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“Do I seem like the fighting type?” you teased. He shook his head. “He did enough fighting for the both of us. He would yell at me for no reason sometimes, just because he felt like it.”

Nate was angry. His features were contorted in distaste as you told him about your ex. Even though you tried to make light of the situation with a few light-hearted jokes, Nate couldn’t find it within in him to react with laughter. You deserved so much better than what you’d been given.

“When I broke up with him, Mara was there. We packed my things and moved it all out. I was going to leave a note, but he came home from work early and caused a scene. He went out the night after and sent me all these videos and pictures of him out with his friends. They were flipping me off, girls were draped all over him, etcetera. I blocked him the next morning and I haven’t seen him since. That was over a year ago.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands. He felt ashamed. “That’s why you yelled at me.”

“Yep,” you answered. “Emotions got the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence filled the room and you felt vulnerable. You didn’t share the story about your tumultuous relationship often, but with Nate it just slipped out. You grabbed your glass from the table and finished it off.

“I’m not staying for another,” you announced. Nate sat back, his face flashing with an offended expression. As you gathered the plates from the table, you tried to ignore the knots in your stomach that were becoming more and more prevalent when he was around. “Nothing good ever happens after the third glass. But, if I was your real date, I would definitely stay for a fourth and you would probably get to kiss me at the end of the night simply for how good that meal was.”

The words fell from your lips so easily that it shocked you and you hoped that the playful tone of your voice wouldn’t scare him off. You gathered yourself before turning back to look at him. He was still sitting at the table, chair pushed back with one arm over the back of it. The way he was looking at you was lethal, eyes drinking you in as you stood in his kitchen. You couldn’t tell if you were imagining the tension or it was real.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said finally. You grabbed your bag from the counter and pulled it over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Nate stood then to walk you out, pulling the door open as you slipped into your sneakers. “It was delicious.”

“Thank you for teaching me how to cook something actually good,” he said. “Poor girl would’ve been eating chicken and vegetables or pasta if you hadn’t come by.”

“Can’t let that happen, can we?” you asked. “Let me know how dinner goes.”

Nate leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you into a warm embrace. You melted into his arms as yours came up and around his neck. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s arms. You wondered if he could feel the beat of your chest again him. It sped up as his hands flattened against your back, crossing over each other to engulf you completely.

“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said. He leaned his cheek on the top of your head and his chest rumbled beneath your own cheek as he spoke. “You know that, right?”

Your blinked away tears before he couldn’t notice then and nodded in response to his question.

When he pulled back, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek and his lips caught the corner of your mouth. An electric shock coursed through your bloodstream and you pulled back quick before offering one last smile and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.

---

Nate called you the next Friday night with plans for Saturday.

“Mel and Gabe invited a bunch of the guys over and she told me I should see what you were doing tomorrow.” he said. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much since last week. The guys would love to meet you.”

“Meet me?” you asked. “So, it’ll be more than just the ones I know?”

“A few more,” he answered with a laugh. “They’ll love you, okay? I’ll be at your place to get you at 5:30.”

It was the first time you were going to see him since you made dinner together last Friday. You exchanged a few texts throughout the week, but nothing of substance. You knew his dinner date went well, though you didn’t know to what extent. You found yourself wondering if she stayed for that additional glass of wine after dinner, or if she stayed for the night after.

He showed up to your apartment wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You welcomed him in while you went back to your room to get your heels on. He gaped at the dress you were wearing as soon as you had your back to him. His eyes wandered over your curves as you bent to grab your heels from the floor in your bedroom. When your dress slid up your thighs, he had to force himself to look away.

You tried to get more details about his dinner date out of him on the way to Mel’s, but he kept quiet. She liked dinner, she stayed for an extra glass of wine, and then she went home at the end of the night. An invisible weight lifted from your shoulders upon hearing she didn’t stay the night and you settled back into his passenger seat.

Nate noticed the way you relaxed into the seat and tore his eyes from the road for just a moment to sneak a peek at you. You were watching the world go by from the window, unaware that he was even looking at you. When he turned his attention back to the road, all he could think about was his sweaty palms and accelerated heartrate. Why did he care so much about what you thought?

Everyone was already at the house when you pulled up. The two of you walked up the driveway, his hand against your lower back much like it had been in the florist. Mel opened the door, lunging to sweep you into her arms and whisk you to the kitchen, her husband and your, well, Nate left behind.

“Thanks for having me, Mel.”

She handed you a drink complete with a salted rim and said, “I’m glad Nate asked if you could come.”

“Nate asked?” you repeated. She affirmed with a nod and ushered you to join the others in the living room while she and Gabe finished dinner.

You swore half the team was there, which meant not one seat was open on their couch. As you passed Nate, he grabbed your hand and sat you on the arm of his chair. He pulled your legs over his lap and began introducing you to the boys you didn’t already know.

You caught Cale’s eyes and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one making note of the lack of space between you two. Though you weren’t technically sitting in his lap, it still felt a little inappropriate. Nate’s hand was like fire where it rested against your thigh and you had to remind yourself to stop peeking at the placement.

Nate lied about your invitation to dinner, and for what? He could’ve just invited you himself instead of disguising it as a joint decision between him and Mel. What was he so afraid of that he couldn’t man up and admit he wanted you there? Better yet, why didn’t he ask Gianna?

You somehow ended up seated away from Nate at the dinner table. Cale settled in on one side of you and EJ occupied the other. Across from you sat JT and Tyson, bickering as always. You don’t know how you ended up separated from Nate, but you welcomed it because you needed the breathing room.

The meal was delicious, but Nate couldn’t even enjoy it because you were so far away. He was going to get fucking whiplash because of the way he kept looking back to see who you were talking to or hear what you were laughing at. How did he even end up this far down from you?

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that kept creeping up to his lips when he saw you with his teammates. They loved you, probably almost as much as he did, and he was proud to have you by his side that night. But then came the harsh reality that you weren’t actually his to show off.

When the party relocated, he made sure to slide up next to you on the way to the couch. EJ’s laughter mocked him, but you didn’t catch on to his teammate’s playful ribbing. With Gabe and Mel’s eyes in the room, he didn’t pull you over his lap and opted to lower his arm over the back of the couch instead. There were just inches between your skin and his but, after having you on his lap earlier, it felt like miles.

Drinking games were played, stories were shared, and you all left the house with full bellies and large smiles. Nate was driving, so he eased up on the drinks after dinner. You, on the other hand, were feeling just as free as you did after three glasses of wine at his place last week, and feeling daring enough to ask him the question that’s been on your mind all night.

“Why did you tell me that Mel asked you to invite me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you invited me, you said that Mel told you to,” you explained in a slow voice as if you were breaking the situation down to a child. “But she said that you asked if you could invite me.”

“Why does it matter where the invite actually came from?” he asked. A slight panic was rising in his chest because he didn’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t supposed to come back around to you. “Everybody wanted you here anyway.”

“Why didn’t you ask Gianna?” you asked, stepping down to join him on the path to the driveway. He rolled his eyes at this, and you noted it because though you’d done it to him many times, he’d never done it to you. He began walking, so you followed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Because I didn’t want to introduce her to everyone yet,” he answered. “You just fit in with us.”

Nate saw your face fall and decided not to push the conversation any farther. He said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. As far as he thought, he was complimenting you. He was complimenting how easy going you were, how his friends got along with you so easily. You were already a part of the group. It was great.

You continued along to the car in silence, not bothering to argue with him over a dumb comment. He wanted friends, so you were giving him friends, but the touches and the invite to team dinner was something more than friends. You needed distance. And he needed to figure his shit out, fast.

---

Lesson #3: Meeting the Friends

Something changed. When Nate dropped you off that night, he left you with a half-assed hug and a quiet goodbye. You couldn’t catch a wink of sleep that night because something changed. But then, Nate texted you tomorrow and tried to carry on as normal. Things weren’t normal.

And you knew that for sure when Nate didn’t invite you to EJ’s house the next weekend. Mel invited you instead and since you could never say no to Mel, you went. The thought of texting Nate to let him know passed briefly through your head, but the sheer fact that he hadn’t even bothered to talk to you about it in the first place was enough to decide against it.

When you entered EJ’s living room, you knew exactly why he hadn’t asked. Gianna was sitting on his lap, fingers curling through his hair as they talked. Anger rose in you no matter how hard you tried to suppress it. Just last week he said he didn’t want to bring her around and now she was here? Now she was here and he couldn’t even talk to you?

There was an uproar as Nate’s teammates noticed you standing in the doorway and Nate’s eyes cut to you in surprise. You lifted your hand in a pathetic wave before Cale was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen.

“Who’s the girl with Nate?”

“His new girlfriend,” you answered, hoping that you didn’t sound bitter. “I don’t even know if that’s the right title for her, but they’ve been on a few dates.”

Cale let out a soft hum, his tone indecipherable, just as Tyson entered the room.

“What’s the deal with Nate’s new girl?” he asked as soon as he saw it was just you and Cale in the room. When you didn’t answer, he nudged you for an answer.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, she’s no you.”

---

Nate couldn’t help but ask himself, “What the fuck are you doing?”

As you were pulled into his teammates arms, he watched and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up and hug you too or if he just wanted to disappear. When Gianna’s fingers gripped his bicep, he decided he wanted the latter.

That’s when you looked at him, of course, and the smile that was on yours lips faded just a bit. At least, that’s what he thought. You lifted your hand in a wave before Cale was looping his arm around your shoulders and directing you towards the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Gianna asked, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looked up at her with a simple answer. “One of our friends.”

Gianna kissed him and for the first time since he met you, Nate thought about what it would be like to kiss you instead. He brought her to EJ’s in a pathetic attempt to right the way he was feeling about you, but it only made it worse.

---

“Nate was weird last night,” Mel murmured after Cycle the next morning. You were waiting for her to say something. Since all the guys made comments the night before, you knew Mel was next. “Did you guys fight?”

“Fight? Me and Nate?” you repeated, stalling for time. “We didn’t fight.”

“What did you think of his girlfriend?”

“I actually didn’t get to talk to her,” you answered. You shrugged, giving the illusion that you didn’t care all that much even though you were fuming. After all the help you’d given him, he couldn’t be bothered to introduce you to her? And that wasn’t all. He hardly spoke to you all night, only entertaining conversations with you when someone else was around. You ended up spending most of the night with EJ.

“My sitter just bailed for tomorrow.” She’d been tapping away at her phone for a few minutes, no doubt panicking to Gabe. You watched her a moment longer as you wondered what her plans were for the next day. Then, it occurred to you.

“There’s a game tomorrow, right?” you asked. She nodded, still typing out messages to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I can watch Linnea tomorrow. Don’t worry about finding a sitter.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She waved you off absentmindedly and continued talking, “Besides, I thought Nate had a ticket for you or something. Didn’t he ask you to go?”

“Tomorrow?” you said incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Isn’t it like a WAG game? It would make no sense for me to be there.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I just thought that he told Gabe,” she paused and noticed your set jaw. You were clearly not Nate’s biggest fan at the moment, so she decided to tread carefully. “You know what? Nevermind. I would love it if you could watch Linnea.”

---

As expected, Linnea was an angel the next day. You spent the time lounging in their living room with the game on TV while you played together. She took a bottle in the middle of the game and you brought her to her nursery once she’d been burped to rock her to sleep. But, you couldn’t quite peel yourself from the chair to put her in her crib. She was sleeping so peacefully and for the first time in a while you felt calm, so you stayed with her in your arms long after she’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when Gabe and Mel got home, but you heard their car doors close. You waited for them to happen upon you in the nursery, so you were surprised when it was Nate that knocked at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered, stepping into the room. He studied the decorations as he approached the rocking chair you were sitting in. When he stepped up beside you and admired Linnea, you tried not to look up at him. You knew it wouldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach, but you did it anyway. He was smiling down at the peanut in your arms. “Mel and Gabe are in the kitchen. They saw you on the baby monitor and told me to come get you.”

“Okay, I’ll put her down and meet you in there.”

“I can wait for you,” he said, stepping away. You stood, cradling Linnea to the crib and then craning to put her down in the center. Nate was watching you intently from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

He stepped out into the hallway first, but he wasn’t walking towards the kitchen. He stood, waiting for you to stepped out into the hallway and look at him. You gave him a half-assed smile, still feeling a little hurt that things had been so weird between you two, and he asked, “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” you answered. He wasn’t convinced, but you reached up and shoved him lightly to get him to move down the hall. He didn’t budge, hand coming up to grasp yours against his chest. The beating of his heart sat right at your fingertips. “How was your game?”

“It was good,” he answered. “I wish you were there.”

“Well, then, you should’ve asked me to come,” you said, quite boldly. His lips parted, but whether it was to speak or not you wouldn’t know because you were continuing down the hallway without him.

You slipped into the kitchen to find Mel, leaving the men on the couch in the living room. The moment you stepped in, she was turning to greet you with a smile. You hissed, “Are you behind this?”

“I mentioned you were babysitting, his eyes lit up, and Gabe was the one to invite him over.”

“Team effort?”

She feigned an apologetic smile before ushering you out to rejoin the boys. Gabe got the fire going and Mel curled in his chest once he settled back on the couch. You sat on the other end, legs extended towards Nate in the corner. You felt his eyes whenever there was a suspended silence. You knew he was thinking about you, and selfishly you relished in the attention.

“YN, did you know that Nate’s parents were visiting next weekend?” Gabe asked during a lull in conversation. Nate glared at him, but the Swede happily ignored his buddy at the center of the couch. His eyes cut to you.

“I didn’t,” you answered. “But that’ll be fun. I know how much you missed them.”

All he could offer was a stupid ‘yeah’ before Mel swooped in to save the entire group from a very awkward moment.

Nate was going to kill Gabe. He was going to kill Gabe, but first he had to make a decision. He knew exactly what he had to do. It felt like you were a thousand miles away, not only physically but emotionally. Gabe should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was going to have you meet his parents, he just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Now, he looked like a dick. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I was going to tell you about my parents,” he said, practically chasing you down the driveway after you ducked out while he was in the bathroom. To his surprise, you stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. “Seriously.”

“It’s getting hard to believe that, Nate,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

Nate felt his heart sink. He began to rack his brain for a way to salvage the conversation, but it was too late by the time you reached your car. You stopped before opening the door to look up at him.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“I just—I know you’re upset with me,” he began. “I want to make it better. We haven’t really talked since EJ’s, and that’s on me.”

“Were you going to invite me today?” you asked. He gave you a curious look. “To the game. Mel mentioned something about it at Cycle. That you told Gabe you were thinking about giving your ticket to me.”

Nate ran his hand over his face. The Landeskogs had really gotten him into some trouble here, and he wasn’t sure it was accidental.

“You’re the one I wanted at the game,” he admitted. “I wanted to invite you, but I knew how bad it would look if I didn’t ask Gianna.”

“So, you invited her,” you concluded.

“No.”

You looked at him in shock, mouth agape, and asked, “You’d rather no one go than give the ticket to her?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he grumbled. You threw your arms up in surrender, hoping the words would sink in. “I don’t know, YN.”

“Yes, you do,” you argued. He kept his mouth shut at that, knowing you had enough. You sighed heavily, allowing the conversation to roll off your back. “When are your parents going to be here?”

“Saturday morning.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“They’ll be at my game in the afternoon and then I was getting us a reservation for dinner,” he trailed off only momentarily. “I haven’t made it yet because I was going to invite you, but Gabe beat me to the punch in there.”

“What about Gianna?”

“YN, if I didn’t want her at my game, why would I want her to meet my parents?” he asked. He made it sound like you were asking the stupidest question in the world. But, he wasn’t answering the most important one. Was he breaking up with her? You wanted to ask, but part of you didn’t want the disappointment. He worried while you thought.

“I’m around on Saturday,” you answered. He smiled, and you forced one back. You hated the feeling between you two. The air between you had never been so stuffy and you wanted to clear it. “Anything else you wanna tell me before the Landeskogs do? Is Sid actually your long-distance girlfriend?”

Nate laughed loudly as he stepped away. He answered your question cryptically, “No, nothing to tell you right now. Not yet.”

---

Lesson #4: Meeting the Family

You planned to meet Nate at his apartment before dinner since his parents had gone to the hotel upon arrival. On the way, you picked up a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. You were taught to do little things for important people, and anyone who was important to Nate felt important to you. You tried not to think about the implications of having dinner with his parents, but it was hard to shake the nerves.

“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he opened the door. His finger slid over the logo on the top of the pastry box, eyes catching on the word bakery. When he looked up at you, his eyes were shining. “For me?”

“For your family,” you told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I thought maybe you heard about my break up and you were trying to comfort me,” he said like it wasn’t breaking news. “I’ll put these in the kitchen.”

“You broke up?” you asked, following him to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as he put the pastries on the counter. He nodded simply as he cleared some clutter from the countertop. You could see his muscles moving beneath his navy polo. Guiltily, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the way the sleeves hugged his biceps or the wide expanse of his back and shoulders. “What happened, Nate?”

“We can talk about it later, alright?”

“Are you single or not?” you asked. Nate caught the frustration in your tone and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to kiss you right then. You needed to know what was going on with him, and that made him feel good about whatever was going on between you two.

Nate started to exit the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway beside you. You were crowded against his chest as he smiled down at you and answered, “Yeah, I’m single.”

You released a breath once he stepped out of the doorway. He slipped his shoes on while you stood nearly the front door. He caught the look on your face, a little scrunched up as you spaced out. You were thinking too much, worrying about what happened with him and Gianna. When he walked back over to the front door, he took you by the hips and said, “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I just want to be with you and my family.”

---

“I’m nervous,” you admitted as Nate pulled up to valet outside the restaurant. He looked at you in shock. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he promised. He reached over and dropped his hand to your thigh. You pouted at him, and his first instinct was to lean over the center console and kiss it off your lips. He knew better than to risk it all just before dinner, so he grabbed your hand and dropped a kiss to your palm instead. “You’ll be fine. No need to be nervous.”

A heavy sigh left your lips as he stepped out of the car. He rounded the front and opened the passenger door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. After he handed his key to the valet, he laced his hands in yours and led you into the restaurant.

The MacKinnons were already at the table that had been reserved for them. There was uproar of cheers when they saw Nate walk in. You stole a peek at his face and the pure joy on it set your heart aflame. He dropped your hand as you approached the table to hug his parents and sister. They introduced themselves to you as well, sweeping you up in tight embraces like they had with Nate.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” they spoke as they hugged you.

Nate pulled your chair out from across his mother and then situated himself beside you. The menus were passed out and Nate whispered suggestions in your ear while his family members debated their own meals. She took the time to calm her nervous. Parents loved her, so there was no reason to freak out. Eventually the drinks were handed out, orders were taken, and the chaos at the table stopped.

“Now, how’d you two meet again?” his mom asked. You looked at each other, stupidly, both stammering in response until Nate got his shit together.

“We met through friends,” he answered simply. Then, his lips curled up and he said, “She yelled at me.” You dropped your face into your hands, embarrassed by the picture he was painting of you, but they took it in stride, laughing at your expression. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He continued, “As you guys know, I’ve been very unlucky in my personal life.” Sarah snorted at this. Their mother smacked her knee as a scolding. “I literally suck at being romantic and all the guys were joking around about it after I’d just been broken up with. YN called me out, so I asked her to teach me how to be romantic.”

“Well, what’d you learn?”

“How to cook a meal other than my pregame types, and I also have a new favorite florist,” he said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and flipped it open to slip out their business card. You didn’t realize he grabbed one. “There are some other things, like her wine rule.”

“Wine rule?”

“Nothing good ever happens after the third glass of wine,” you explained. They laughed at that, though they seemed bewildered by your reasoning.

Nate elaborated, “It just means that if your date stays for a fourth glass, you’ll probably get lucky.”

This earned him a smack on the arm from both his sister and yourself.

Nate’s family was just as kind as he was and it was clear how much they all adored each other. You fit in seamlessly, at least that’s how it felt, and when they asked the waitress to take a picture of them, Nate tugged you into his side to keep you in the frame.

“Take one without me,” you urged him. He just shook his head, gazing down at the picture on his phone. He passed it off to his parents and sister for approval. “Nate.”

“I want you in the picture,” he whispered to you. His hand came up to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to place a chaste kiss to your temple. He pulled away, like kissing you in public and on the forehead was normal now, and asked, “How was your food?”

When you got back to his place after dinner, you presented his mother with the pastries and earned a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you. They settled into the kitchen as he made drinks, chatting as a family about the people back home and his life in Denver. You slipped out to go to the bathroom, and give them some alone time.

“I like her,” you overheard his mother say as soon as you slipped out of the kitchen. You slowed your steps on your pursuit to the bathroom even though you knew it would be best to keep walking. You couldn’t help but be a little nosy.

“That’s good to hear,” Nate said. You smiled to yourself. “I like her, too.”

---

Nate’s family only stayed for another hour before you were bidding them farewell from his front door. They squeezed you and thanked you for the pastries, and then began inviting you to visit before Nate had to shut it down. Your heart felt full after spending the night with them, but sitting alone in Nate’s apartment in anticipation of what was to come was scaring the shit out of you.

Your hands were a little shaky and your palms were definitely sweaty. There was change coming, change that was already present, and you were both excited and terrified for it. Nate reentered the apartment not long after. When he saw you sitting on the couch, he released a breath he’d been holding.

“Are you going to stay for another glass?” he asked after locking the door behind him. “That one’s only your second.”

You eyed his smile, heart beat stuttering a bit beneath his gaze, and lifted the glass to your lips to finished what was left. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen. While he filled both your glass and his, you picked yourself up onto the counter like you’d done so many times before.

“I did a bad thing,” he murmured after handing your glass back to you. You raised a brow at him as he reached over to one of the cabinets and opened it to reveal two pastries in a Ziploc bag. “I stole two of them from my mom.”

“Nate!” you exclaimed. He chuckled at your exasperation. “I can bring you to that bakery whenever you want! Your parents don’t live here! It was a gift!”

“And they have the other eleven pastries,” he argued. “They’re not going to miss two.”

Reluctantly, but still with a smile, you took a pastry from his hand. You bit into it at the same time, eyes lighting up at the taste. At the sight of each other’s faces, you were doubled over in laughter before you had the chance to swallow what was in your mouth. You looked away from him to regain composure and only looked back when you were sure you wouldn’t choke.

“Those were fucking good.”

“Only the best for your mom.”

“Thank you,” he spoke. “For the pastries and for hanging out with my family today. I’m sure you had other things to do, but it meant a lot. They’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“I had a lot of fun with them,” you said. His smile was soft, shy even, and he watched you carefully as you sipped from the glass in your hand. “It was nice to meet the people who made you who you are.”

“Wait until you meet Sid.”

You decided to move from the kitchen to the living room in favor of more comfortable seating. He reached his hand out behind his back, and you linked your fingers with his lazily so he could lead you to the couch. You slowed to a stop as he sat down, legs spread to pull you between them. Your hesitation caused a look of confusion to flash over his features.

“Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head now?” you asked, placing your glass down on the table beside the arm of the couch. He followed suit, then placed his hand delicately at your hip to urge you closer.

“Sure, I can,” he answered. He pulled you into his lap. You looped her arms around his shoulders as he flattened one hand against your back and curled the other around your thigh. “I don’t want to waste those romance rules on someone I don’t really like all that much.”

“You really didn’t like her?” you asked meekly. Of fucking course he didn’t like her, you were thinking. You were in his lap, not her, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Why?”

“The only reason I looked forward to going on dates with her was because I got to spend time with you before,” he confessed. You felt it all through your body. “I broke up with her the morning after we were at Gabe’s together. After you called me out on my bullshit, I knew I was being stupid.”

“Why me, though?”

“Because you deserve the world and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

It was only natural for you to lean in and capture his lips with yours. After all this time spent waiting and beating around the bush, you didn’t want to wait a second more. It was passionate, and new, and exciting. His hands held you close while your fingers curled into the back of his hair, but he wasn’t close enough.

You swung your leg over to straddle him, not caring that you were wearing a dress with just panties underneath. His hands flew to your hips as you grinded against him. You gasped against his lips at the friction as he held you tighter, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you covered his mouth with yours again. He guided your hips to grind against him once more, but you braced your hands against his chest to push away.

“I’m not staying for a fourth glass,” you said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, eyes falling to your lips that were red and plump from kissing him. Kissing him! He leaned in, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, and pulled you down by the back of the neck.

He murmured through his kisses, “You didn’t even finish your third.”

At the challenge in his voice, you reached over for the glass on the side table and finished what was left. He held you close, laughing against the crook of your neck. You giggled along with him until you felt his lips against your skin again and a gasp fell from your lips.

“You gotta leave before I pour number four,” he warned, breath ghosting over your neck. He kissed your neck again, this time sucking lightly enough to earn a strangled moan. You pushed back against his chest and stood, flustered as you adjusted your dress and your hair. Nate couldn’t help but smile as he watched you cross the room for your purse. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his lap to hide his hard-on.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked as you put your heels on the end of the couch. He was admiring your flushed cheeks and your wild hair as you busied yourself. You fastened the strap on each heel before looking back at him. It took everything in you to not go back over there and unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“Nothing,” you answered as you stood. He followed suit, adjusting his dress pants just a bit so he was comfortable and making you giggle in the process. He stepped up beside you and pulled you against him again. He placed one, two, three kisses against your neck then your jaw then your lips.

“Let me make you dinner.”

---

Nate wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. He knew that the second you walked out of your room in that little black dress, but he was really trying to be on his best behavior. It was technically only your first date and he wanted to impress you. You just weren’t helping very much. As soon as you were in his car, you were grabbing his hand and lacing it with yours to drop them into your lap.

He was a little nervous that he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He was sure that he’d fuck up somewhere and you’d go running. And, truthfully, you could tell that he was overthinking every little thing he did. The tension in his shoulders as he moved about the kitchen to prepare everything for dinner was clear.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked.

He gave you the most pathetic shrug and shake of the head as he tried to wave off your concern with a soft, “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” you called him out. “You look stressed.”

“I mean, I am a little stressed,” he admitted, diverting his eyes from yours as he headed over to the fridge. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Before he knew it, you were standing between him and the refrigerator. You flattened your hands against his chest and slid them up until your hands were linked behind his neck. A slight tug on him was enough to get him to kiss you. He finally relaxed, arms dropping from the refrigerator door to grip your hips.

“You’re not going to fuck this up.”

“I don’t have a very good track record.”

“You do with me,” you said softly. He looked skeptical, not quite understanding what you meant, so you pressed against him as his arms enveloped you. “You gave me a sunflower the third time we were ever around each other. You’ve cooked me dinner already. Sure, it was under different circumstances, but it counts. Nate, you know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t overthink it.”

“Go sit,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You managed to calm his nerves better than anyone he’d ever known in a matter of seconds. “I’ll plate dinner and then I have to grab something for you, okay?”

Nate entered the dining room a minute later, placing both plates down across from each other before disappearing to grab wine glasses and another bottle of wine. Then, he was off down the hall to his bedroom. Your eyes followed him curiously, wondering what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He’d already impressed you enough by cooking a meal you didn’t teach him.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed out when he appeared in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers. “Nate.”

“For you.”

You stood to take them from his hands and kiss him in thanks. When you pulled away, your fingers danced along the petals of the roses tucked between the sunflowers and baby’s breath Nate had grown to love too.

---

You filled your glass for a fourth time as inconspicuously as possible after your last bite of dinner, but Nate caught your eye over the bottle as you poured and you knew he knew what you were doing. He tried to stifle his smile unsuccessfully, picking up his own glass to cover it. One sip and his third glass was done.

“More?” you asked, extending the bottle in his direction.

“Four glasses?” he teased. ��What do you take me for?”

“Okay, more for me then.”

Your voice was low, eyes dark as they settled on him, and suddenly he was lunging forward to grab the bottle and pour another glass for himself. Your giggles filled the room. He wanted them to echo off his walls forever.

“I want to take a picture with you,” he said. You gave him a curious look, though your stomach was doing cartwheels at the suggestion. “I keep thinking about your empty picture frame and I want you to have something to put in it.”

“We can take a selfie,” you suggested. He was quick to shake his head, pushing away from the table to take your hand and lead you to the patio. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and set it up against the couch. He removed the glass from your hand to place it out of view of the camera.

“Now, this is quite the set up,” you murmured as he moved furniture out of the way so there was ample space to take the photo. Denver’s city lights were sure to be the perfect backdrop and having Nate beside you wasn’t too bad either.

“Well, it has to be perfect if it’s going in your office.”

“How do you know I’ll even want to put it in the frame?” you asked. Nate pressed the timer and turned to walk back at you, smirk on his lips. You were teasing him, but you were playing innocent with those doe eyes. He curled around you, arms pulling your back against his chest to pose for the picture.

“After tonight, I’m sure you will,” he murmured in your ear. “Smile.”

The audacity of a man who tells you to smile after igniting your entire body in goosebumps.

The camera went off in a sequence, five pictures for the one timer. You smiled twice before he reached up to turn your face to his for a kiss. The sound of the shutter had you pulling away from his lips with a giggle. He smiled down at you for the next photo as laughter spilled from your lips, and then he was kissing you again.

When you finally pulled away from him, all giggly and handsy, Nate dragged you along with him to his phone. He curled around you as he flipped through the photos, each one cuter than the one before.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t put that in your office?” he asked. His breath tickled the back of your neck. You were just trying to tease him before, but with the lack of space between you and the way he was looking at you in these photos, you just couldn’t tease him anymore. His fingers trailed up your arms, goosebumps rising in their wake once again.

“How’s that fourth glass of wine treating you?” you asked. Nate tucked the phone in his back pocket as you turned to face him. His hands were on you once they were free, curling over the curve of your ass.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m trying to be good, but it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” you against, arching your body to press against him. You could feel him hard against your hip and knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You pressed your lips to his and, as you pulled away, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it.

A growl ripped through his chest as he lifted you into his arms. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried you into the apartment and slammed the patio door shut behind him. He dropped you onto the bed, one hand coming to tug you towards the end by the ankle. His hands spread your legs so he could step between them and they slid up your thigh, pushing your dress up as they went.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured in your ear as his hands reached your hip, dress bunching around his wrists and revealing your lace panties to him. “Stealing touches in a crowded room just doesn’t compare.”

You lifted your arms as he guided the dress over your body and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of your match set, Nate pushed you up the bed and crawled over you. He peppered kisses along your skin from your collarbone to your chest. He worked his way down your stomach until reaching the top of your underwear. In on swift movement, your thong was on the floor and he was spreading your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmured, fingers spreading your folds. You moaned out as he slipped his finger in. “You like my fingers in your pussy, baby?” You could only manage to nod because he’d already slipped a second finger in. He curled them while he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh. “How about my tongue?”

Nate licked a stripe up your center and you gasped, hands flying down to curl into his hair as he continued to eat you out. He sucked on your pussy, continuing to thrust his fingers into and curl. He dragged moans out of you, obscene words dripped from your lips, and the filthy sound of his tongue filled the room.

“You taste so good.”

You tried to grind against face for some more friction, but he held your hips down and continued. You whined, tugging his hair and arching your back as he brought you to orgasm.

“Nate, I’m gonna cu—” you moaned, toes curling at the feet of his lips around you. Suddenly, cool air shocked your core and your orgasm retreated. You sighed as your whole body sank into the bed at the absence of stimulation. Nate crawled up your buddy, licking a stripe up your neck before attaching his lips to yours.

“Sorry, baby,” he said. He nudged your knees apart and situated himself between them, hand falling to his dick as he lined it up with your entrance. “I just need you to cum on my cock.” You moaned as he pushed his head between your folds. “YN, as long as you’re mine, I’ll never make you feel like you don’t deserve all the most romantic things.”

You answered with a moan as he bottomed out inside you. He watched your face as you adjusted to his size and smiled as you whimpered, pulling your teeth between your lips. You felt so good around him and as he began to pull out and thrust in again, your nails dug into his biceps.

You knew he was trying to take his time, but you could hardly take it. As far as you were concerned, Nate would have all the time in the world to take it slow with you. Tonight was not that night.

“Fuck me harder.”

When you sounded like that beneath him, how could he say no? His previously slow and calculated thrusts became sloppy at your request. He relished in the sound of your moaning and the way you called his name like a prayer. You were unraveling beneath him and he wanted to get you there. He adjusted your leg over his shoulder so he could hit a new angle.

“Come on, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “I wanna see you cum for me.”

He reached down and placed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in circles as he pumped into you. You screamed out and your body arched as your orgasm ripped through you. Nate pumped into you a few moments more as he chased his high while listening to your whimpers. He spilled out into his condom as a string of curses left his lips, then collapsed onto of you to catch his breath.

Your fingers immediately found his hair as your breathing evened out together. His body was hot on yours and a sheen of sweat covered both of you. Nate’s fingers curled around your waist and into your skin, squeezing you like he needed to get closer but couldn’t. Finally, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, hands rubbing up your stomach to cup your breasts. You shivered at his touch. “I never want to leave this bed.”

“Not even for shower sex?”

“Okay, maybe for shower sex,” he murmured. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bathroom.

---

A few hours (and orgasms later), you were clothed in Nate’s sweats and t-shirt and waiting for him beneath the covers in bed. He was cleaning up the glasses you left on the patio and running the dishwasher, though he was quick to finish it up and return to you. You looked so cute propped up against the headboard that he couldn’t stop smiling as he got ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats, but remained topless as he slid under the covers. Instead of pulling you down to rest on his chest, he dropped his head onto your stomach and pulled you tightly to him. Your fingers carded through his hair.

“Thank you for tonight, Nate,” you spoke. “This was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“I’m counting this as our fourth date,” he responded. You laughed at him, slapping his bicep lightly at his teasing. “Let’s be honest, I was trying to impress you this entire time anyway.”

“Consider me impressed.”

Nate pulled you down to eye level with him, heads on your respective pillows, and then turned to shut the lamp off beside him. When he turned back, he pulled you against his chest. With your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as it evened out. His fingers scratched your back ever-so-slightly as if soothing you to sleep.

“Are you happy?” he asked. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. Could he not tell how happy you were?

“Of course, I am,” you answered. “Are you?”

“How could I not be?” he asked. “You’re so far out of my league.”

“No, I’m not,” you groaned. You covered your blushing face with your hands at his words, hoping that he couldn’t feel the beat of your heart. Nate was quick to tug them down, holding them against his own chest. He didn’t care if you felt how hard his heart was beating. In fact, he wanted you to know. He wanted you to know the effect you had on him.

“You feel my heart, right?” he asked. You nodded. “You did that. You do that to me every single time I’m around you.” Your eyes began to water and you tried to pull your hand away from his to wipe the water pooling in the corner. Nate grabbed both your hands with one of his and wiped it with his own thumb. “I’ll never let you go to bed thinking I don’t love you. I’m going to shower you with flowers from our favorite florist and buy you pastries from that little shop you like, and I’ll never make you feel like you need to stifle yourself and who you are on account of me.”

“Nate.”

“Just listen to me, alright?” he asked, voice soft. You nodded. “Your ex stuffed you down and he didn’t appreciate you. That’ll never happen with me, and if you feel like it is, you need to tell me, just like you did when we first met.”

You tried to stammer through some type of coherent response, but words failed, so you kissed him. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him and your legs intertwined. He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough, but he felt just the same. He wondered how anyone had let you go before and simultaneously thanked them for the gift that was you.

That night, Nate vowed he’d never let you go to bed unhappy and he’d never let you feel any less than perfect. He waited forever for a partner like you, honest and kind, and he finally had it in his hands, in his bed. And you promised that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved him. You just knew it.

#nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic

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rexisnotyourwriter · 4 years ago

Photo

by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming

After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.

Read on AO3

*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*

Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab

Chapter 1: The Restless Summer Air

The girl watched the toast pop up from the mint green Burlington toaster mere seconds after emitting the smell of the now charred breakfast. The toaster almost perfectly matched the vinyl covering on the kitchen chairs and the geometric pattern on the off-white linoleum flooring. The whole house, in fact, looked like it came straight out of a magazine, which, in all honesty, it had. Her mother had dog-eared the pages of the latest styles before they even bought the house. The kitchen, as noted, was mint and off-white themed. Clean and crisp. The living room, which flowed out from the kitchen, featured wood flooring adorned with a large ornate rug with a velvet baby pink couch and loveseat. The one piece that didn’t quite match the room was her father’s green-ish recliner. It was the sore thumb of the room that he refused to part with. The fireplace was surrounded by a brick mantle, on top of which was a wooden clock that ticked loudly. It was very nearly time for her to be on her way to school.

She sat in her usual seat at one end of the table watching her mother, who looked at the slightly charred toast with little regard and tossed it onto a plate. She watched as her mother haphazardly slathered it with strawberry jam. She was doing it wrong, again.

Across from the girl’s place at the kitchen table was a full breakfast plate - two fried eggs, two pieces of (unburnt) toast, buttered, and three sausage links - next to a cup of coffee. The sun shining in from the living room illuminated the steam willowing out from the top of the mug like smoke from a chimney. It curved and swirled upwards, slithering almost, until it disappeared.

“Ed!” her mother called, for the fourth time, more shrill than the previous three.

She plopped the plate of toast in front of her daughter before grabbing her “secret” pack of cigarettes from the kitchen drawer. When the girl heard the back door open and the strike of a match, she got up from her seat to grab the jar of jam and knife that were still on the counter. She dipped the knife gingerly into the jar and spread jam into the forgotten corners of the toast, but not so near the crust that her fingers would get sticky when she ate it. Then, she cut the toast diagonally.

“Morning,” her father smiled at his daughter as he entered the kitchen. She smiled back, but her mouth was too full of toast to return his greeting. He was in one of his nicer suits today, the dark blue one, with a silk paisley tie. His coat was already swung over his arm, his hand clutching his briefcase beneath it. He blew quickly and gently on his coffee a few times before gulping some down, wincing. Still too hot. He gave up on it, and turned to leave. The girl’s smile dropped.

“What are you doing?” her mother’s voice came from behind her.

“Going to work, dear, like I do every morning,” he replied cheekily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He paused, annoyed by the delay. His eye spied the full plate of food at his spot.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time to eat.”

He moved to leave.

“You’re supposed to bring her to school today.”

“Hun, I’ve got a meeting first thing. I really gotta go.”

“I have a hair appointment-”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Kat-”

“Ed, you promised that you-”

“I hardly think your hair is-”

“That’s not the point-”

“Don’t forget who pays for your hair to look like that.”

“Here we go.”

“I’m not doing this now, end of discussion.”

He grabbed a piece of toast from his plate and shoved it into his mouth before leaving out the front door.

Her mother slammed the back door shut. She hastily untied her apron and threw it on the counter, then rushed off to the powder room to fix her hair and put on some make up.

The girl finished her toast in almost complete silence, but for the steady ticking of the clock.

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

The Academy basement was almost always dark when Gregg got in. Today was no exception. He enjoyed being the first one there. The more work he got done sooner, the better change he had of making it home for dinner. Granted, he didn’t always make it, but he made the effort, and that was enough for his wife. Plus, the mornings were quiet. He could get settled, organized. It was a different kind of quiet from the late nights. The morning quiet felt promising, hopeful in a way. The evening quiet was a slow drag, your thoughts muddled with too much information that had accumulated over the course of the day into a tangled ball of yarn.

They had a coffee maker now, and an electric kettle. Some of the perks of the increased funding and attention the Behavioral Science Unit had received. Gregg would make a strong pot, stronger than he liked it. He was the odd one out in the team who preferred weaker coffee, so he would make it strong for their sake and add hot water to his mug until it was tempered to his liking.

On this particular morning, Wendy was the next to arrive. She and Gregg exchanged silent greetings as she hung up her coat before retiring to her office. A stack of files was waiting for her on her desk, but it was only a partial set. The remaining files were in her briefcase, having been read the night before. She took them out and placed them in their own pile on her already busy desk. The “done” pile. Though not “done” as in finished with; “done” as in read and flagged with numerous Post-it Notes.

The interviews had been behind ever since the Atlanta case, even though that was closed over a month ago. The phone had been ringing almost constantly with police from every county thinking every slightly disturbing murder was the work of a deranged psychopath. Poor Gregg was getting the brunt of the phone duty, which sucked up his time on more important work. They did get an answering machine, but between checking the tapes and the stacks of unsolicited faxes that would come through, it was becoming a full time job to sift through it all.

Wendy heard the main door open and wondered if it was Bill. She got up from her desk to check. She needed coffee, anyways.

It was Holden. A few weeks ago, he would’ve asked her if Bill was in yet, but his late arrival was a regular occurrence by now. They exchanged their usual good morning head nod as Wendy exited to obtain her caffeine fix.

Some papers floated off the edge of the fax machine tray, which was still spitting out pages.

“How long has this been going on?”

Gregg, fully immersed in a recording, didn’t hear Holden.

“Gregg,” he said louder.

Gregg paused the tape and removed his headphones.

“When did this start?” Holden asked, picking up the pages from the floor and stacking them, along with the rest, next to the fax machine.

“I’m not sure. It was empty when I got in this morning.”

Holden sighed as he gave a few of the pages a cursory glance. Nothing excited him.

Wendy returned armed with two cups of coffee. She gave the coat rack a scan for Bill’s coat, but it was still absent.

“Hey,” Holden said, making his way over to Wendy. “Do you think we should’ve told him yesterday?”

“He had already gone home.”

Holden looked at the second coffee cup in Wendy’s hand, waiting for her to offer it to him.

“Yeah, I know. But should we have called him?”

Wendy shook her head.

“He doesn’t need to be dealing with work when he’s at home.”

The hypocrisy of her advice isn’t lost on either of them. Holden’s not exactly innocent either.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

“There’s not much we can do.”

Holden looked at the coffee again. This time Wendy noticed.

They’re interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the hall. Moments later, Bill walked in, without a coat, looking slightly worse for wear than usual, with a manic glint in his eye.

“Morning, Bill,” Wendy said.

“Morning,” he responded reactively, not bothering to look in her direction.

He stood at the coat rack for a moment before realizing he didn’t need to be there, then headed to his office.

Holden and Wendy shared a look. She’s got this. Wendy followed Bill, both cups of coffee still in her hand, leaving Holden to fend for himself.

Wendy leaned against the doorway of Bill’s office while he settled himself. She half expected the inside of his briefcase to be a slough of loose files, but he pulled out a single tidy, albeit thick, folder.

Wendy said nothing.

Bill sighed and finally looked up at her.

“Look, I appreciate the concern.”

“Bill-”

“I do. But what I really need right now is to not be treated like I’m a…a bird with a broken wing, or a child.”

He paused.

“Or some other helpless thing, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I know I look like shit.”

“I’ve seen worse.”

He almost smiled.

“While Holden and I share some…concerns,” she continued. “That’s not entirely why I’m here.”

Wendy stepped inside his office, closing the door behind her, and took a seat, placing one of the coffee cups in front of Bill.

“Gunn came down here yesterday, after you left-”

“Shit.”

“He knows there’s something going on, more than whatever it is you’re telling him.”

Bill leaned his forehead into this hand, rubbing his temples.

“He really likes playing us off each other, doesn’t he.”

“It’s actually rather smart, if you think about it,” Wendy responded wryly. “He knows by now that we talk to each other about this kind of stuff, and that Holden and I have a better chance of getting through to you than he does.”

Bill finally took note of the coffee in front of him and gulped some down.

“What did you tell Gunn?” he asked.

“Nothing. I said I wasn’t specifically sure what was going on outside of work and assured him that we were catching up from time lost during the Atlanta case.”

“Is that true?”

“Marginally.”

He scoffed.

“But that’s not your fault,” she added.

They sat in the silence of a mutual understanding that nothing either of them could say would change the reality of the situation.

Wendy shifted in her seat, about to stand up, when Bill interrupted her.

“Brian answered the phone this morning.”

She opened her mouth, but no words formed.

Every day since Nancy left with Brian, Bill had been calling her parents in Connecticut. There was nowhere else she could’ve gone to. She had no siblings, and had too much pride to confide in any of their friends.

“I called this morning, expecting to leave another voice-mail, but after two rings it stops. I hear breathing. Background noise from the kitchen. Bacon sizzling.”

Each word is harder for Bill to say out loud, but he keeps his composure. Wendy can feel it, though.

“And then I hear Nancy freak out, telling Brian to hang up the phone. Then…”

He imitated a dial-tone.

“I don’t know what to do, Wendy.”

She exhaled softly. She wasn’t sure either.

“I’m sorry, Bill.”

“Thanks for the coffee.”

That was her cue to leave. She paused in the doorway, and turned back around.

“You don’t have to tell Gunn everything. Just, something with a grain of truth. Enough that he feels you’re being honest with him and will give you some leeway.”

“I will.”

“Sooner rather than later.”

Bill nodded.

“He’s out today, yeah?” She nodded back. “I’ll tell him next week. Promise.”

Wendy left him with a sympathetic smile.

Holden was finally settled at his desk when Gregg interrupted him.

“I’ve got an Arthur Osborn on the line. Alaska State Trooper. He’s got a case that I think it worth looking into.”

Don’t they all.

“And he asked for me specifically?”

“You or Bill, but I figured…”

“Yeah, sure, put him through.”

A moment later, Holden’s phone rang.

“Special Agent Holden Ford.”

“Agent Ford, thanks for taking my call.” Osborn’s voice was deep and had a midwest lilt. Definitely not a native Alaskan.

“How can I help?”

“We’ve had four young women found dead in less than two years. All of them under 21. The youngest,” his voice cracked, “was eleven.”

Holden waited for him to compose himself.

“They were noted as missing before the bodies were found,” Osborn continued. “Two months ago, Lori King, 18, was reported missing. We think it was the same guy. We want to find him before she ends up like the others.”

“Of course. What condition were the bodies in when they were found?”

Osborn took a deep breath. “There was significant decomp by the time we found them.”

“Anything notable in how they were staged?”

“Staged?”

“Yes. Positioned. When you found them, were they sitting up, lying down, what were their arms and legs doing…”

“Nothing particular, really, I don’t think. We have photos.”

“Good. It’s possible this is the same unsub, but I’ll need to look at everything you’ve got on it.”

“Yes, Agent Ford.”

“Did you already fax us the files?” Holden was already dreading having to dig the related pages out of the stacks.

“What? No, no. We thought we better call first.”

“Good thinking. Send them through when you get a chance. We’ll take a look.”

“Thank you.”

Less than thirty minutes later, the fax machine started printing.

Later that afternoon, Holden gathered the rest of the team in the war room to review the Fairbanks case files. It turned out Osborn was right in his suspicion that this could be the work of the same unsub.

“Our first victim is Glinda Sodemann, 19. Newly wed and a new mother. She went missing from her home in North Pole on August 29, 1979.”

Holden pinned a photo of Glinda onto the board.

“Her husband came home to the baby asleep in the crib and Glinda gone. There were no signs of foul play, and no indication that she would have had a reason to run away. Two months later, her decomposing body was found near Moose Creek, just over twenty miles south of Fairbanks, in a gravel pit near the highway.”

Next to the smiling black and white yearbook photo of Glinda, Holden pinned the photo from the dump site.

“She was shot in the face with a .38 caliber. The pistol cartridge was found next to the body. There were no signs of sexual assault.”

“Did they look into the husband,” Bill interjected.

Holden nodded.

“He was their prime suspect for a while. Even failed a polygraph. But there was no evidence.”

The next photo Holden put up was of an even younger girl.

“Almost a year after Glinda disappeared, 11-year-old Doris Oehring goes missing from North Pole. Her and her older brother were riding their bikes on June 11. She had ridden ahead of him, and when he caught up to her he saw her talking to a man with a blue car. The hood was popped open as if he had engine trouble. As soon as her brother got closer, the man slammed the hood, got back in his car, and sped off. Two days later, Doris disappeared.”

“Were they able to get a description from the brother?” Gregg asked.

“They got a rough sketch,” Holden answered, adding said sketch to the board. “The brother said he thought the man was wearing a blue shirt that looked like a uniform.”

“Military?” Wendy suggested.

“Air Force.”

“There’s a base in Fairbanks,” Bill added.

“They found Doris’ bike hidden in the bushes near her home. A witness said they saw a blue car near that area around the time of her disappearance. The driver appeared to be struggling with someone or something in the seat next to him.”

“Fuck,” Bill muttered under his breath.

“They also said it looked like he had a military haircut. Now, based on all of the descriptions of the perpetrator, the state troopers got a list of every single blue car that was registered to drive on the Eielson Air Base. Anyone want to guess how many names are on that list?”

They looked around at one another.

“One hundred?” Gregg suggested.

“550,” Holden responded. “They questioned Glinda’s husband again. This time the polygraph was inconclusive.”

The team collectively rolled their eyes at that cursed word.

“They brought a polygraph expert in after that to question him again. They said that he had an irregular heartbeat that made it impossible for him to pass a polygraph. It would always show either as failed or inconclusive. Due to lack of alternative evidence, they had to remove him as a suspect, at least for Doris’ disappearance.”

They fell silent, processing the implications of this information. How many people failed a polygraph because of a heart condition?

“The third disappearance happened January 31,” Holden continued. “Marlene Peters, the oldest victim so far at age 20. She was last seen hitchhiking from Fairbanks to Anchorage to visit her sick father. Now, initially, there wasn’t enough reason to think that her disappearance was connected to the others. Five weeks later, Wendy Wilson, 16, goes missing. She was also last seen hitchhiking, and a witness saw her get into a white pickup in Moose Creek. They found her body three days later, over thirty miles south of Fairbanks. She had been strangled and then shot in the face. Two months later, Marlene’s body was found in similar condition, not far from where Wendy’s had been. Which also happened to be very close to -”

“Eielson Air Base,” Bill finished.

“Bingo. The latest disappearance occurred a couple days after they found Marlene’s body. Lori King, 19.” Holden puts Lori’s photo on the board. “She was last seen walking alone in Fairbanks.”

“Did they ever find Doris Oehring?” Wendy asked.

“No. They’ve searched near the air base and all the areas where the other bodies were found, but no sign of Doris, or Lori.”

Holden took a step away from the board, indicating his descent into theorizing.

“He’s single. Lives alone. Definitely has issues with women.” The team all nodded in agreement. “Probably has a hard time holding a job. He has a history with the military, but I don’t think he’s part of the Air Base.”

“Even though it’s close to the dump site of the victims,” Gregg inquired.

“It’s more notable that the bodies were dumped off the highway. It doesn’t feel like it’s about the proximity to the Air Base,” Holden replied. “So, why does he shoot them in the face?”

“To hide their identity?” Gregg suggested.

Wendy shook her head.

“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s a relatively tight knit community. People know that these women are missing, and identifying them wouldn’t be that difficult, even after their faces had been shot. It’s more about substitution. He’s taking them and killing them in place of the person - woman - that his aggression is actually directed at. Once they’re dead, he sees that they didn’t fulfill the fantasy in the way that he wanted, so he disfigures their face to erase their identity in order to satisfy his illusion.”

Gregg nodded.

“I disagree about the military aspect, however,” she continued. “I think it’s highly likely he does work at the Air Base in some capacity.”

“Because of the haircut and the blue car?” Holden responded.

“And the uniform. The location of the bodies. The evidence we’ve accumulated from other cases. He likely has disciplinary issues, maybe even a history of abusive behavior towards women.”

“Okay.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he also had a history of institutionalization,” Bill added. “He feels tangibly unhinged.”

“Okay,” Holden repeated. “I think we’ve got a good basis for a profile.”

Holden faced the team, hands on his hips.

“Hey, we should grab a drink later. It’s been a while.”

“I got to get home to the family,” Gregg replied.

Holden gave him an understanding smile as Gregg grabbed his notebook and left the war room. He turned and looked expectantly at Bill and Wendy, his real targets.

“Come on, it’s a Friday. We’ll go to The Fern.”

“I don’t think so, Holden,” Wendy declined.

“Yeah, I’m not really feeling it tonight,” Bill added.

Holden shot Wendy a look. For Bill’s sake.

She contemplated, and gave in.

“Alright,” she conceded. “Come on, Bill. I’ll go if you do.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

“My other condition,” Wendy added, “is that we find a new place.”

“What happened? I thought you liked going to The Fern?”

She shrugged.

“It wasn’t as great as I thought it was.”

Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” was playing upon their arrival at The Velvet Arrow. It was not as full, or as dive-y, as The Fern, but it was certainly more bizarre in its decor. The walls were covered in a mix of Native American art and 1950s advertisements. The bar stools, true to the name, were covered in red velvet (and stains) that reminded one of movie theater seats. Thankfully, the booths where they chose to sit were vinyl.

“I’ve got the first round,” Holden offered. “Bill?”

“Bourbon.”

Holden turned to Wendy.

“White wine. Thanks.”

When Holden was safely out of earshot, Wendy leaned in towards Bill.

“Did you tell him about this morning?”

Bill shook his head.

“Okay.”

It was understood that the phone call with Brian stayed between them. They both agreed that Holden needs to know enough of what’s going on to not be a dick, but not so much that he gets too involved.

“It really feels like we’re his parents sometimes,” Wendy noted.

Bill exhaled loudly through his nose.

“That kid, I tell ya.”

They shared a small laugh as Holden returned with their drinks.

“What’s so funny?”

“Wendy just told a great joke,” Bill replied.

She cut him a glare, tempered with a smirk.

“Wendy told a joke?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” she replied, more defensively than intended.

“No, I mean -” Holden flustered. “You’re…funny.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why do I feel like I was the joke,” he added.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Bill grinned.

Wendy sipped her wine. At least it was better than whatever they had at The Fern, not that The Velvet Arrow’s was in any way exceptional. She scanned the rest of the bar. It was mostly men, military looking men at that. A few of them were here with what appear to be girlfriends, or at least hopefuls.

Her heart stopped. A woman at the bar, a customer, back turned. Her slight frame and long straight brown hair were familiar. No. It couldn’t be.

She gulped down more of her wine, unable to turn her eyes away, just in case the woman turned her head to get confirmation or denial.

“How about it, Wendy?” Holden asked.

She turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Darts. Wanna play?”

“Um...”

“Come on,” Bill coaxed.

“Fine.”

While the men got up, Wendy stole a glance back at the woman. Her profile was in full view now, and it was a face she didn’t recognize. She let out a small sigh of relief.

“You coming?” Holden asked.

“Hmm? Yes.”

She anticipated how poorly she’d do. Bill and Holden assuredly had low expectations.

“Ladies first,” Bill said, handing Wendy a dart.

She slowly shook her head at him, a slight smile on her face, and took the dart. It was heavier than she expected. It was just like archery, right? She did that once, at a summer camp. Poorly.

Wendy stared down the dartboard.

Square up. Shoulders to the pins.

Kay’s voice came into her head. She positioned herself.

Now, put your weight on your left foot.

She did.

Take a deep breath and just do it.

Wendy fired the dart.

It stuck two inches from the center.

Bill and Holden didn't bother to hide their surprise, nor their delight.

“40 points,” Holden exclaimed.

“Nicely done, Dr. Carr,” Bill beamed.

“Looks like we’ve got to step it up, Bill,” Holden added.

The game ended with Bill winning both rounds; Wendy and Holden earned a second and a third place ranking each. The trio walked out to the parking lot in the warm summer air. It still smelled like smoke, but it was fresher than inside the bar at least.

“See you Monday, then,” Holden said.

They waved their goodbyes and entered their respective vehicles. Wendy was about to pull out when she heard an engine struggling.

It was Holden’s.

She looked around and saw that Bill had already driven off. Holden looked at Wendy from across the parking lot. Their eyes met. There was no escaping now.

She got out of her car and walked over.

“Need a jump?”

Holden sighed. “I think so. Bill’s gone already?” She nodded. “Do you have cables?”

“I can check.”

Wendy looked in the back of her car and the trunk, but no luck. She returned to Holden empty handed.

“I’ll call a tow truck,” he concluded.

“At this hour?”

Holden shrugged.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” she offered. “You can deal with it in the morning.”

Holden willingly agreed.

Wendy turned on the radio, hoping it would keep Holden’s small talk at bay.

“So how do you think Bill’s doing? Like, really?” he asked.

She thought about it.

“I think he’s handling it as well as he knows how. I mean, how is someone even supposed to cope with your wife leaving with your child while you’re gone, with no contact whatsoever?”

“I offered him one of my Valiums the other day,” Holden said casually.

“You did what?”

“You know, just to maybe help take the edge off.” Wendy shook her head. “He declined, by the way.”

“You really shouldn’t be offering prescription drugs to people.” As if it needed saying.

“Well, when you phrase it like that,” he smirked. “Left up here, then I’m on the right.”

Wendy turned and pulled up to Holden’s building. He took off his seatbelt, but didn’t get out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Wendy.”

She smiled politely. He smiled back, still not making any move to leave.

“Do you want to come in?” he offered. “For a cup of coffee, or something?”

“Uh, no. Thank you.”

Holden wasn’t phased by the rejection, which only made Wendy more convinced he would keep trying.

“Okay.” He opened the door to leave. “Drive safe.”

She nodded. He closed the car door behind him.

Wendy saw him in her mirror standing outside, watching her drive away, before disappearing inside.

#op*#mindhunter #mindhunteredit #mindhunter fic #a tide in a city #wendy carr #bill tench #holden ford #gregg smith #ted gunn #it has been 84 years since i posted a fic

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 58]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 23 and what’s done of chapter 24 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

Okay, I’m still not feeling 100%, but lets see how much I can do today. :)

Chapter 23

“Would anyone care to explain themselves?” Logan asked the room filled with the most frustrating human being he’d ever met. He must have infused his voice with the desired amount of ire, because everyone in the room seemed to wince simultaneously except…

“No thanks!” Remus chirped. Logan shot him a tired look and stepped forward. “Wait! Dad! No!” Logan swiftly put him in a headlock.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told the others. His son was a bit wiggly when Logan started to pull him towards the elevator in the other room, but he didn’t actually put up much of a fight.

He let Remus go when they got to the elevator. The elevator was small enough that they ended up taking it in two groups. Logan ended up in an elevator with Lena, his sons, and his brother.

There were a couple of moments of awkward elevator music. “I am very displeased with everyone in this elevator.”

No one responded but Patton who patted him on the shoulder. Logan turned on him. “You are at the pinnacle of my ire.”

There was a few seconds of drawn out silence, and then Patton removed his hand. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “You could hear a pen-acle drop.”

“Kids, you no longer have an uncle,” Logan said coolly.

“That’s right,” Patton said with a smile despite the glare Logan was sending him. “You only have a puncle now.”

Roman snorted out a laugh but looked quickly away when Logan glared at him.

The elevator came to a stop and they climbed out of it. “You all go to the conference room while I wait for the rest. Except you,” he pointed at Lean. “Fred can debrief me. You go get that checked out.” She shot him a thumbs up (because apparently the lack of disrespect for his authority had rubbed off on her) and wandered off towards medical.

“Um,” Roman said tentatively.

“Yes?” Logan asked, already even more tired.

“Also, Janus may or may not have a broken rib. At least he said he might have.”

“Why on Earth is he walking around, then?” Roman just shrugged in response to Logan’s question.

“And send someone down to look at his Janus,” he called after Lena right before she turned the corner. “Anything else pressing?” he asked the three still with him. “No? Then I’ll see you all in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Conference room 16 or 17?” Remus asked.

“Remus, everyone here is aware that room 17 is a broom closet,” Logan said.

Remus sent him finger guns. “Conference room 17 it is,” he said turning to strut off down the hall. Roman shot Logan an awkward half smile before following after his brother, and Logan’s own brother jerked forward to smack his lips against Logan’s forehead before waltzing off after them.

Why was his family like this?

He turned to wait for the elevator to go back up to the factory and down again. He crossed his arms as it arrived. “You’re injured?” Logan asked as the doors opened.

Most of the occupants looked confused, but Janus looked slightly annoyed. “Remus,” he muttered.

“Roman actually,” Logan corrected. “I’m having someone sent down to look at you.”

“I’m f-”

“Don’t even try to argue right now; your second on my list today.”

“Remus is first?” Janus asked.

“Of course, Remus is first.”

“Where am I on the shit list?” Remy asked with interest.

“Somehow, only 5th.”

“Score!”

“But you’re inexorably moving up.”

“But I’m not in the top three.”

“No, my children and brother fill up the spots above you.”

“You said I was second,” Janus said with a frown.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Also, you’re grounded.” Then, he turned to walk towards the conference room.

“Wait, Logan, what does that mean?!” Janus asked his back.

“It means, Logan owes me a buttload of child support,” said Remy.

“I am not your kid. You are not my dad.”

“Sure, son.”

When Logan made it to the correct room, his family was already hard at work making his life a series of aggravations. Before even stepping into the room, he turned to the opposite side of the hallway and opened the door to the supply closet.

“Get in the correct room before I make you get into the correct room,” Logan said.

“Come on dad, you know it’s not nice to force someone out of the closet.” On most days, Logan would not have found that at all funny, but today for some reason, it elicited a snort of surprised laughter. Remus smiled up at him from his seat on the floor like he always did when he’d done (or thought he’d done) something clever.

“Don’t,” Logan warned, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t. That doesn’t mean your forgiven. I am very, very unhappy with you.”

Remus just kept grinning.

“I’m relieved that you are safe and happy to have you back with me,” Logan said, “but I am also very angry.”

“Eh, that’s fair.”

“Now get out of the closet.”

Remus found it fit to obey him for the moment, and stood, following him to the conference room where the others had gathered. Patton had somehow found a stack of name tags and a box of markers somewhere and had managed to convince Roman to help him draw little pictures on them along with the names. Patton stuck one with a broom drawn on it onto Remus when he came in.

Remy and Fredrick were currently forcing Janus into a chair while Roman avoided the glare the injured man was sending at him, and Emile was talking quietly to Virgil.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Let’s start with the ones who haven’t started to explain yet. Roman?”

“My phone got broken probably somewhere between Janus tackling me and hitting me in the face.”

“Oh, is that why Dad texted me about where you were a thousand times?” Remus asked

“Yes,” Logan said, “and you said you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t say that actually.”

“Remus.”

“I was in the middle of something! …And then I forgot.”

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake,” Roman said.

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake!” Remus agreed. “Along with Roman’s car and us for a minute.”

“You drove your car into a lake?” Logan asked Roman. “Is that why you are all wet?!”

“Yes, he did!” Remus said.

“Hey! No!” Roman said. “I managed to stop the car before it went into the lake. It’s not my fault the guys behind us aren’t as good drivers as me and slammed into us!”

“Roman destroyed another car!” Remus crooned. “What’s that? Three? And you say Janus is cursed!”

“I take so responsibility for the Taurus or for this one!”

“Two’s a coincidence; three’s a pattern!” Remus sang joyfully.

Logan shook his head at them and chose to look over at Janus instead. “And you?” he asked. “You looked at your mission details and never responded.”

“You were trying to send me on a wild goose chase when my brother was missing!” He tried to stand up and Remy pushed him back down again.

“I was trying to get you in a controlled environment before telling you of the issues for fear you would overreact and do something careless if you found out on your own.”

“I already knew,” Janus growled, “and that is not your call to make.”

Logan considered that. “Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed, “but you still should have attempted to communicate with me, at the very least so I would have known you were okay. For all I knew, Nelson had caught you in a lie and your cover had been blown.”

“It is blown,” Janus muttered. “I smashed her phone, blew up her car, and disobeyed her. She sent men to kill me.”

It was honestly a relief. Janus had been in danger constantly while being a double agent and he’d grown more than fond of the man in the last few years. Not having to play nice with Barbara all the time would do him some good.

“We’ll have to reassign you,” Logan said. “As well as Remus, and you’ll both need new permanent residences.”

“We already decided we’re getting an apartment together,” Remus said.

“You decided,” Janus said weakly, clearly not actually interested in protesting, but needing to keep up appearances.

“And we’re going to get a kitty.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Well, in that case, I would highly suggest you verify it is in fact a ‘kitty’ before you allow it on the premises. I have made that mistake before.”

“You love Raphael,” Remus claimed.

“Possum,” Roman explained at Janus’s questioning look.

“In fact,” Logan said. “It may be advisable that Remington consider moving as well. Nelson very much knows where you live and will likely be unhappy with your continued existence. At least, you should consider taking up residence somewhere else temporarily. For tonight, I’ll get everyone set up in some of the rooms in the base, but that will come later. For now, we need to get everything sorted out. I have a good overall idea about what happened at this point, is there any other important information I need to deal with immediately?”

Mostly everyone shook their heads and Logan was about to move on to getting more detailed reports when Remus raised his hand.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“There are two of Barbara Nelson’s men tied up in the trunk of Lena’s car,” he offered.

“What?” Logan asked.

“They were the guys shooting at us that caused Roman to drive into the pond.”

“I did not drive into the pond.” Roman said.

“You were shot at?!”

Chapter 24

Logan had kept them in the meeting room for literal hours, pausing only to feed everyone except Patton and Virgil (who had actually eaten dinner). Eventually, he decided that he was satisfied with the explanations (Well, no, perhaps not satisfied, he was still very displeased with everyone except Virgil and maybe Emile, though Emile had not helped himself when he’d realized that he’d spoken both to Patton and Remus in the grocery store near Remy’s house and he and Patton had proceeded to go off on a tangent about pasta.) and had taken them all to some of the hotel style rooms in the base.

#study break stories #not writing

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austarus · 5 years ago

Text

Harry Wells x Reader Crisis of Infinite Wells (Part 3 of 5)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @countlesswells

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

*Yes, I know this is super late, but I had so many exams and deadlines shifted due to the transition online. Didn’t help that finals were around the corner either. But I’m back, and hopefully I can make things right with my fics, especially with the fact that we’re not going to get the Alls Wells That Ends Wells episode this season thanks to Ms. Rona (Please don’t come after me T.T). Anywho, this ended up being super, SUPER, long and I have no regrets. I feel that we need this series more than ever. If you already haven’t make sure to check out Part 1 and 2. Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment, I read them all!

Word Count: 6601

You took in a deep breath, simultaneously opening your eyes to find yourself being hovered over by Caitlin and Cisco

“There’s our sleeping beauty,” Cisco jokes, grinning at you before running back over to the monitors to get a screwdriver.

“Mm, it’s too bright here.” You winced and blinked a few times as your brain had finally registered the bright lights of the Speed Lab. Rubbing your face a few times, you moved slowly to sit up. Stretching your aching body, you cracked a few bones and let out a little noise in contentment. Eyes looking around for a bit, you saw that the Mindscape Machine was still out, and that Cisco had hooked you and Nash onto it. Nash was still knocked out on another bed though because of the sedation. He looked peacefully asleep, as if the weight of his expeditions and the murmurings at the back of his head were gone. He should be coming back soon, I hope.

Cisco noticed where your gaze had gone before grabbing your attention, “Cecile had to go back home to feed a fussy little baby Jenna and Joe, so we ended up resorting to the Mindscape Machine. Went smooth sailing, thanks to our very own resident genius engineer, no thanks needed. All in a good day’s work.”

“I figured when you chimed in saying that we needed to go to the Nexus of Nash’s mind to get out.” You pointed out.

“Nash should be waking up in an hour or so, he’ll be fine I promise. How are you feeling?” Caitlin asked softly as she checked you over for any sign of abnormalities before removing the wires from your head.

“Cold,” goosebumps were already breaking out through your body as a shiver goes down your spine. “Really cold, Caity. Can’t you STAR Labs techies afford heat or something?” You joked, watching a look of fake hurt cross Ciscito’s face, a hand automatically over his heart.

“Dude, it’s like beautiful outside and what am I doing? I was stuck in here babysitting Princess Aurora and Pebble Brain over there until you guys came back to reality. You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Cisco made a face, pointing towards the direction of Nash’s unconscious body with a screw driver before walking back to where you sat, “while fixing these bad boys up,” the mechanical genius gestures dramatically to the tech in the room. “Meanwhile, Barry and Not-Mirror-Iris are on a picnic date in Central City Park enjoying the sunny weather. One which I wanted to do with Not-Mirror-Kamilla first.”

You and Caitlin just giggled at Cisco’s dramatics. Caitlin gave you the ‘all clear’ that your neural functions were still working and that you should be coordinated within your own body.

“So, Persephone,” You rolled your eyes at the nickname and shook your head at the two. Cisco had basically dubbed you and Harry that even before you had gotten together. In secret of course, or else Harry would start throwing things at him for dropping obvious hints of his feelings towards you. It’s at least so much better than Romeo and Juliet because in all honesty, they had a tragic love story and that is something that my love life does not need. More tragedy, internal pain, and suffering. “Did you see your Hades again?”

“I did, yeah.” A soft smile crossed your lips as your mind replays the interaction, your cheeks dusting the lightest color of pink. Your gaze dropped down a bit as Cisco and Caitlin started going “Ooooooo” as if high school gossip girls wanting you to spill the beans while giving you that one look you know all too well. You didn’t have the heart to tell them to stop.

“How is he?” Caitlin asked while Cisco nodded, wanting to know if his friend’s okay.

“He’s good,” you responded with a smitten grin, and then made a little sheepish face. “They’re all good.”

“They?-” Caitlin frowned as she slowly asked with a raised eyebrow.

“-Excuse me? They?” Cisco had a look mixed with dumbfoundedness and disbelief. His mouth slightly open as you saw his mind comprehending that simple sentence. You just nodded with a slightly sheepish grimaced expression. “You-”

“-had to meet the entire Council of Wells and propose to them the Multi-Dimensional idea that could possibly save them all because my boyfriend and a select few of his pals convinced me to since apparently the Wells men tend to have lots of arguments and so they also tend to never get things done sometimes. Yeah. That happened.” You quickly rambling how you met the infinite Council of Wells and then slowed down at the latter sentence with a nod. Cisco and Caitlin were stunned in place as they had tried to keep up with every single word that you said. Before they could even say anything, you spoke up once again as you got off the bed to stand on wobbly legs. “Did I mention that Harry, Sherloque, and Wolfgang are the triumvirate lead of the Council and that Sonny’s their hype man, apparently? I did not ever see that happening.” You ran a hand through your hair, “I have seen things. Standing in a huge lecture-ish mental room in Nash’s mind filled with doppelgangers of Harrison Wells is something I just cannot unsee.”

“No, you can’t.” Cisco added in agreement, his arms crossed. “You met all of them?”

“I mean, sorta. I mainly just stood at the front where the Wells triumvirate take their spots to start their meetings. Ok, so like you know the Galactic Senate from Star Wars where Palpatine and Padme were in?”

“Hell yeah, I do. What do you take me for an uncultured swine?”

“So, like, the layout of the room was sorta styled like that.” Cisco looked slightly mind blown because Star Wars obviously. You located your leather jacket and put it on to have some layer against the cool wind of the AC. “How’s everything coming with the modifications?”

Cisco and Caitlin look at each other before Frost took over for a bit, “I think this is the part where we tell you that they’ve sorta hit a roadblock.”

“Perfect,” you deadpanned, with a slight pain reverberating at the back of your head. I need some coffee, you thought before collecting your things and giving Nash one last glance.

***

I jinxed myself when I told Cisco that I could handle this. Handle them and their stupidity. A frown plastered itself onto Nash’s face, his head throbbing at the legit argument going on at the back of his head. What about? Who the hell knows or cares? Rubbing his face then his temples when the headache started to radiate to the front, the dark-haired explorer let out another annoyed groan as a doppelganger started yelling to contribute to the argument. I have never been more annoyed at the sound of my voice. Nash’s been trying to mentally block them so he himself can think things out, but collectively it hasn’t been succeeding. His heavy footsteps carried him to the Med Bay, thankful that no one was here at this ungodly hour to see him like this. I need an icepack and multiple pills of aspirin. Nash snorted when a mental image of you scolding him for the number of pills he might take to ease the pain was conjured in his mind. You entertained him, is what he told himself, just like the rest of them.

As he entered the Med Bay, the door creaked and the dim lights from the labs allowed him to see a faint silhouette on the bed. Nash raised an eyebrow as he crept slowly towards the bed, gauntlet at the ready.

“Well, speak of the devil,” he whispered to no one in a low voice, forgetting about the throbbing and disgruntled voices in his head. Nash disengaged his gauntlet. On the bed, you were curled up with a thin blanket, clearly still cold, but sound asleep at this hour. Curled up like a kitten and cuddled up to a pillow. Nash’s blue eyes wandered to what’s beside you, seeing multiple papers messily put together and various binders littering the bed. Due to the dimness, he couldn’t really make out any of the writings on the paper at this angle, but the Wells doppelganger can only assume that they’re medical files for Barry and the others.

Nash’s blue gaze snapped back to you when you emitted a small noise as you shuddered. He didn’t know why, but he made a beeline for the cabinets and closets, finding another thin blanket hidden in them. At least two are better than one. He pulled the thin cloth over you, ensuring that you would be a little warmer than before. Nash’s gaze softened slightly at your tired expression that you carried even while asleep. Shutting his eyes for a bit only to reopen them, Nash curled his hand into a fist then uncurled it. He let out an inaudible sigh, his right hand reaching out to gingerly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear-

“-Don’t you dare touch her.”

Nash felt as if he was shocked on the spot, retracting his hand rapidly as he turned around, coming face to face with the source of the voice. Harry stood with his hands in his pants pockets, a glare present on his face as he watched his doppelganger with angry eyes. Clearly unamused that Nash was getting close to you. Harry’s words, precise and cold, had cut through the air like a sharpened knife, but you couldn’t hear him.

Nash swallowed, sending Harry a smile of mockery. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal her away from you. Unless-” Nash spoke with a raspy voice.

“-You can’t even if you tried,” Harry retorted without hesitation. Nash rolled his eyes taking a few steps closer to his doppelganger. Both men exuded confidence and intimidation towards one another. “Watch yourself, Nash. I have her heart, just as she has mine.”

“You can keep the little lady, for all I care. She’s just good company, you would know that all too well, wouldn’t you Harry? And what do you know, she still owes me a favor. A favor in exchange for my help. I could have easily said no and kept the both of you separated because why would I care if her little heart remains broken and she loses sleep every night over it?” Nash bit down on the inside of his cheek, ignoring that mental image.

Harry glowered at Nash’s cocky words. “When I get back, I’m going to make you regret those words.”

“Look, I’m not interested in her, Harry. Get over yourself and keep her, she’s not that special anyway.” The tension and malice were intoxicating, hanging heavy in the room.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally in your mi-”

“-Zhe petit fluer ‘as been overworking ‘erself again.” Nash jumped slightly at the new voice, letting out a frustrated breath before turning his gaze towards the French-accented voice. “And you two are ‘ere arguing over ‘er like ‘igh school boys.” Sherloque stood on the other side of the bed as he examined the papers from his height. He was clearly annoyed at both Nash and Harry, narrowing his eyes with an icy look on his face. “Merde, if you want to ‘ash it out, at least ‘ave zhe decency to do it outside,” Sherloque pointedly spoke, crossing his arms.

Harry and Nash briefly looked at each other before moving their gazes back to Sherloque only to find an empty space beside you. Sherloque had retreated back into Nash’s mind in order to sort things out with Wolfgang and the others. J'ai parlé de mes deux cents à ces deux-là. Sherloque took off his fedora and weaved a hand through his dark locks, glancing at the Nexus of Nash’s mind. “Et ce n'est pas bon de se mentir à toi-même, Nash,” the Frenchmen whispered with a knowing glint in his eyes, a stoic smile on his face.

You scrunched your nose and shuffled into a different position on the bed, almost knocking off a binder stack. Harry ignored Nash’s existence, taking a seat on the chair beside your sleeping form and noticing something that anyone else would have missed if they had not been together with you. Nash watched his Earth-2 doppelganger, seeing a certain look cross through Harry’s eyes. Harry slowly reached a hand out only to drop it knowing that he wouldn’t be able to touch you in this state. His hand formed into a tight fist as he dropped it by his side. Harry heavily sighed, shutting his eyes and running a hand through his hair. Nash raked his teeth over his bottom lip, feeling a tiny shred of guilt at Harry’s inability to be here with you. Reopening his azure irises, Harry’s heart stung, and it reverberated throughout his entire being. Oh, how he yearned to hold you again. To be able to wrap his arms around you and pull you close for warmth.

“She’s still cold,” Harry commented his observation, a slightly sullen expression creeping on his face. He readjusted his glasses. Nash raised an eyebrow at Harry’s words. “Just remember what I said. She’s not a prize. After everything you’ve done, she’d never willingly choose you in any lifetime.”

Nash blinked and Harry was gone, the explorer immediately regained composure of himself and his surroundings. Nash felt the tension leave his body, stretching a bit to relieve his muscles. I swear if I roll my eyes hard enough, they’ll fall out of their sockets. With a sigh, Nash gave you one last look before reluctantly shedding off his jacket and pulling it over you. The dark-haired man left the room without sparing you another glance.

What is even considered a prize anymore?

***

It’s been a couple weeks since you had entered Nash’s mind and spoken to the Wells men. Since then they had collectively collaborated with Barry, Cisco, and Chester via Nash to make necessary modifications and electro-/neuro-magnetic adjustments. “I present to you attempt #29,” Cisco announces, sliding out from behind the machinery, with a tool in hand, “which coincidently is the same number of one of my favorite Pokémon from the original 151 of the benevolent Kanto region.”

“Female Nidoran?” You and Barry both questioned the looked at each other. Nidoran is a pretty decent Pokémon, not gonna lie. Poison capabilities that are deadly with a combination of ground-type moves can really have opponents running for the hills without the proper Pokémon to counter its abilities and possible move-sets.

“What? She’s literally a freaking queen in battle and her move-set has been improving tremendously with every generation.”

“To be honest, Cisco, you always struck me for a Poliwag kind of guy when I first met you,” you quipped up. “But I got to say (Insert Favorite Pokémon Type)-types are more my style.

“Nerds,” Nash snickered to himself lowly. You whipped your head back to him, not clearly hearing his exact murmured words, but hearing his voice. The others didn’t hear anything. Nash dropped his gaze away avoiding your look, but not before narrowing his eyes at you. You just continued on with a questioning look, this time your thoughts circulating on if you’d done anything to offend this Wells doppelganger.

He’s been avoiding you since you had entered his mind, which at first you respected because having someone else enter your mind and intrude is weird enough, so you gave him his space. But then it started to turn into him throwing annoyed looks at you when you spoke, gradually and fully ignoring your existence in the Labs as the days went by. Even to the point of not seeking you for medical attention like he normally did when he injured himself in some way. Instead, Nash went to see Caitlin.

At first you thought nothing of it, Nash probably had his reasons for not wanting to speak to you and you had done nothing wrong in reality that you could recall. But then your anxiety continued to climb as one day passed after another. I’m not a bad physician, am I? I mean, I hope I not. I’ve been doing my best to suture and isolate every variable in order to make correct diagnostics. Nash even ignored you when you asked him if he wanted any coffee when you went on coffee runs. Was it the coffee pun I made? Everyone laughed at it.

“How are the modifications to the dimensional extrapolator coming along?” You asked turning your gaze back to the boys. You sort of regretted asking because you know that they’re going to start talking all quantum physics and math at you.

“Well, after analyzing the multiverse extrapolator and running diagnostics it’s… actually not fit to be modified,” Chester explained, holding up the piece of tech.

“Is that the bad news?” You raised an eyebrow at them, glancing back at Nash for any input, but were greeted with silence.

“I mean, this little baby over here may not be as functional as before, but it does still hold a variety of multiversal coordinates. In which we could cross reference those numbers with any pocket dimension coordinates that we happen to stumble across. Which I’ve got to say is so friggen cool! My world just keeps exploding, first there were multiple universes and doppelgangers, then black holes- but I created that on accident- my bad, by the way-” Chester continued in a quick ramble with a huge and excited grin on his face. If you didn’t know better, he seemed as eccentric as the energizer bunny, you just nodded along politely. “-And now we’ve got pocket dimensions! We really are breaking all the rules of physics-”

“-Chester, grab me the-”

Barry leaned in close, cutting off your focus from Chester’s hyper rant and Cisco’s shout, “We basically need to develop a new extrapolator.”

“That makes much more sense, but I was following Chester’s rant, thank-you-very-much. Sort of. ” you nodded sheepishly at your friend before sending him a teasing smile. Barry held his hands up in defeat. Barry let out a laugh. “How’s Iris?”

The speedster nodded, directing his gaze to the side so you two can side bar. “She’s doing ok, keeping an eye on Eva while running the Citizen. The headaches have receded, but she’s a bit disoriented at times. I’ve had Cisco and Chester install different meta security measures in case Black Hole decides to make a guest appearance.”

“But is she ok? Mentally?”

“She’s… jumpy at times. Iris told me she trusted Eva when she entered Joseph’s hidden lab. That Eva was the reason that she doubted herself in seeing the truth and her instinct that Iris’s always trusted. She told Kamilla the same thing. We’re trying to work through it.”

You patted Barry’s back, “Just let me know if I can do anything to help. If it means anything, Harry taught me how to use his pulse rifle for a worst-case scenario.” You grinned up at him, secretly always wanted to have a reason to put your sessions with Harry to the test.

Barry chuckled and shook his head, knowing that Harry would kill him if he had allowed you to be put in harm’s way. “I think we’ll be good, but thanks for the tip.” You pouted at your best friend before a small laugh leaves your lips.

Nash took a glimpse of you over his shoulder as you giggled at your best friend. He thanked the stars that he was able to reuse the tech from an older MAD produced by Harry and synthesized it to become a mental block between him and the other Wells so that they wouldn’t interfere with his thoughts or pop up randomly. Nash called it Psyche Block. All he had to was to make sure it was on whenever he was in the labs. She hasn’t been sleeping well. He could oddly tell with one look. That small moment of weakness allowed the sharpened tool in his hand to slip his grip and pierce the skin through his entire palm. The dark-haired Wells let out a sudden gasp, blood oozed out profusely. A few droplets had fallen onto the hard drive of the Neural Splicer, short-circuiting it. Your ears caught the noise somehow, frowning your eyes caught Nash leaving with quick steps.

“I-I gotta go…” you whipped your head back to Barry, who had watched the glances that you had thrown at the Wells doppelganger since you entered the room. You pointed to the Speed Lab’s exit, “Do this… this thing.” Barry nodded with a teasing grin at your awkward attempt to excuse yourself, gesturing towards to door.

You were already leaving as you spoke to the speedster. Entering the corridor with swift feet you slightly managed to catch up to Nash. Damn him and his long legs.

“Nash!”

Nash’s blood ran cold at the sound of your voice. He willed himself to not look back, instead to carry on his way to the Med Bay. You saw that he clearly ignored you, which caused an ache to echo throughout your body. With every fiber of your being, you sprinted forward as fast as you could to come to a stop right in front of him causing the geological myth-buster to stop as well, midway to the medical room with an irritated façade on his features. Nash remained silent as you caught your breath, he held a cautious hand out to put up distance between you both, to not have you come any closer.

You opened your mouth to question him instantly at his gesture, but your eyes quickly caught sight of his bloodied hand. Sharp instincts assessing that the wound had been the cause of his escape from the Speed Lab. “You’re hurt.” You ignored his eye roll, taking a step forward and snatching his hand gingerly to examine it. He hadn’t realized that he stopped you with his bloodied hand. The droplets of red had splattered onto the concrete floor, creating a puddled mess of crimson. “Nash this needs stitches. Immediately.” Looking up at him, Nash exhaled roughly side-glancing away in frustration before meeting you with cold eyes. But you did not yield under the coldness. “I can suture this. All we nee-”

“-I don’t need your help,” was his rapid and frosty response. He blinked at you, holding his ground.

“Then who’s help are you going to need, huh!? Caitlin? Last time I checked she was at her mother’s facility because of the bullet-light-energy shot that Black Hole gave her,” You frowned deeply at him with fiery eyes, you had never combusted like this in a really long time. “Can you suture this by yourself?” You asked rhetorically. “This cut is too deep to just put a band aid on it and call it a day.” Nash opened his mouth to retaliate, but you cut him off in a softer voice. “I know that you hate me,” Nash narrowed his eyes at those words, “but let me help you.”

Nash pursed his lips, looking into your pleading eyes and inwardly cursed himself. With a sigh, the older man followed you to the Med Bay, where you proceeded to stitch him up and fully sterilize the wound from the blood and bacteria/bacteriophages that could enter the cut.

“You’re only looking after me because of Harry.” You heart stopped at the sudden words, slicing the air of the room. “What? Nash, that’s not true.”

Nash let out a mirthless laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s not, I can’t believe you would even think that.” You berated him with a serious look, but he just waved you off. You pursed your lips at the silence. “Why do you hate me?” You looked up as you finished your work, eyes meeting his light blue colored ones that you had stared into before. Nash licked his lips, eyes darting to anything else, avoiding the kicked puppy look on your face.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Was it the coffee pun?”

“No”

“The Pokémon nerd talk?”

“Unfortunately, no”

“Then, what is it?”

“It’s- I…” He started, taking a breath in. “Quae dicunt, facite vobis cor eius. Quod pertinet ad eum. Nusquam potuerunt alium, qui non pertinent ad quis enim concupíscit.” The dark-haired man raked an uninjured hand through his hair as he fisted his wounded one, feeling its stitching.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Nash stubbornly shook his head, not wanting to repeat his words.

“Nash, I don’t understand what foreign, dead language you just spoke, but you’re my friend. I’m always going to care for my friends, even and especially when I’m involved with Harry. They’ll always be in my heart, no matter what. And that includes you too, you stubborn idiot.” You grinned at him with sincere intention, placing a hand gently on his clenched fist. A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Now, you need to let that heal. So, no tech tinkering or spontaneous adventures in the middle of the day until the stitches come off, doctor’s orders.” You winked, smiling widely at him. You moved to leave the room, throwing one last look back at him.

Don’t- Don’t fucking do that, Nash bittersweetly thought to himself as he rubbed his face when you left the room. Don’t give me that… that smile, saying things like that. He sighed for the nth time that day, unfurling his hand to observe your handiwork.

***

You entered Nash’s mindscape once more, searching for Harry to spend some time with him. Nash had opted to stay behind until you were ready to leave his mind, particularly moody about not wanting to see his doppelgangers because he sees enough of them. He had upgraded the MAD 2.0 so that Cecile’s presence and powers wouldn’t be required for today. Nash, the Wells, and the Team Flash boys have been working closely the past couple of days to ensure that the Psyche Segregator (that’s the current name for all the machines interwoven together) would be fully functional. The extrapolator was essentially finished, it just needed the proper orientation for dimensional coordinates that the Wells doppelgangers would need to report.

You walked down the rocky caves of Nash’s mind before hitting a modern looking corridor that similarly belonged to a level in STAR Labs. With a questioning look, your feet continued on as you decided the top floor would be the place that Harry should reside in with Sherloque and Wolfgang. Entering the vacant elevator and ascended each level, you soon found yourself in front of what looks to be Harry’s office from Earth-2.I guess you can change the layout of things if you’re the Mindscape’s master. You pushed the door open, the lights automatically illuminating the room before scanning the area to find it vacant. Your shoulders sagged a bit. Where is he? I thought Nash told Harry that I was coming. Glancing around a bit, you took a seat at the main desk, finding Harry’s glasses. You made the mistake of putting them on as Harry entered the room with a coffee mug in hand. Harry froze at the door as your gaze instantly locked onto his, glasses still on his face. You blinked at one another. It didn’t take long from a wicked grin to cross his handsomely rugged features at the sight of you.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t take what’s not yours?” Harry shut the door and came around the desk. So he decided not to show up this time. Harry quickly dismissed the thought from his mind, shifting his focus more to you. He noted your exhaustion and would berate you regarding it later.

“Who said they couldn’t be mine?” You teased back as you stood up, slipping the black frames off you and folding them to clip the glasses onto the collar of your top. Harry let out a deep chuckle, a giggle leaving your own. Your boyfriend set down his cup of java on the upper corner of the desk and dipped down to kiss you. He nipped at your lips when you responded to his sweet kiss before pulling away. Harry enjoyed the slight flush on your cheeks, a reaction only he could elicit with his existence. “What was that for?”

“What? I can’t give my lady a kiss?”

This smooth fucker. The heat in your heart intensified at his words and adoring gaze. You were going to unclip his glasses and hand them to him, but his hand stopped you. To anyone observing the scene, they can literally see heart eyes happening between the two of you. “Your lady may want more than just a simple kiss,” You giggled, your voice lowly enticing before pulling him back in, cupping his face with steady hands as your lips collided. Harry let out a laugh against your mouth, bracing his arms around your waist only to maneuver you to sit atop the cool desk.

Gasping at the sudden movement, Harry pushed his tongue into your mouth. You allowed him to slot himself between your legs, pulling him closer and running feather-light touches through his untamed hair. He groaned against you at your touch. God, you missed this closeness! Every time his lips met yours in fervor his grip on your hips would tighten slightly, sending a small shiver to run down your spine. How is it that this all feels so real?

His name escaped your swollen lips when Harry decided to head south, nipping at the nape of your neck before sucking on your sweet spots. How could he forget where you’re most vulnerable to his touch? Your hands gripped onto his shirt. A small noise left your lips, tilting your head more to the side to give the Harry more access to continue his conquest. The room felt hot, your body on fire at every one of Harry’s kisses as he marked your skin. You breathed his name again and Harry could not think straight. One of his strong hands left your side and cradled your face as his lips re-connected with yours once more in a searing kiss. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. How can the way you simply utter his name allow Harrison Wells to abandon all self-control?

Sherloque strode into the room with his cup of tea only to almost drop it at the scandalous scene in front of him. “Mon Dieu! Ayez de la décence!” You and Harry had ripping apart from each other at the sudden outburst, both of your heads snapping towards him. Harry sent a glare at Sherloque, who responded with an annoyed eyeroll at the couple. “At least lock zhe door if you’re going to get all ‘andsy wizh each ozher,” the detective grumbled before leaving the room and shutting the door. Your cheeks were on fire at this point, opting to look at your folded hands that rest on your lap. But Harry did not look ashamed in the slightest, instead a smirk on his face at your sudden bashfulness. You soon snapped out of your embarrassment when a thought had crossed your mind.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Did you say anything to Nash?”

“No,” he lied, glancing up towards the ceiling.

“Uh huh,” you looked at him dubiously with narrowed eyes, “you know that I can tell when you’re lying, right?” You spoke with crossed arms.

“…” Harry’s eyes met yours and you raised a questioning eyebrow at him for an answer. He briefly shut his eyes before reopening them, “I may have… warned him not to come near you and such.”

“Warned or seriously threatened to utterly destroy?”

“… maybe a bit of both…”

“Harry!”

“What?! Do you not see the way he looks at you?”

“The way he what!? Harry, he’s my friend. Just like Sherloque and HR.” You sighed as he pouted sheepishly at you. “Honestly, you know I only have eyes for you.”

“I know, it’s just…” Harry trailed off.

“It’s just?”

“I’m not here. Physically here, to be by your side. To go home with you at the end of the day. Especially at the labs when other versions of myself show up out of nowhere and seem to try to get all chummy with you.”

You blinked at Harry a few times. “Are you… jealous?” Harry didn’t respond, grumpily frowning at your words as he attempted to avoid your gaze. He didn’t like that word. “You are, aren’t you?” The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you teased him, knowing that his silence was proof enough. Harry sighed, pulling you in a close hug and you felt his head nod in dejection. Harry didn’t want to admit it out loud, that’s just how he is. You rubbed his back, “You know it’s ok to be jealous, right?” Harry let out a sarcastic exhale, resting his chin on your shoulder. You kissed the side of his head, “How do you think I felt every time a young bachelorette sauntered her way towards you at all those galas that we attended? All those thirst cubes you kept receiving? I swear Jesse had to hold me back before I was about to throw some hands, verbally and politely, but effectively scathing.”

Harry snickered at how you’ve dubbed the cubes he’s received from various women ‘thirst cubes’. “Every night, you were the only thing that I would see.” You gave him a tight squeeze before pulling away to give him a soft kiss.

“And you’re the only Wells that my heart wants to be with.” You smiled up at him before it suddenly dropped.

“What?” Fear grappled Harry’s heart. “What is it?”

You swallowed your own fear that had climbed into your throat. “It’s just… this is the last time that I’ll see you before… we have the systems go online to-” You trailed off as you directed your gaze to the ground, gesturing to your theory going into action as you did so. Harry pursed his lips, tilting your head up to look at him. Your eyes glistened in the calm lighting of the office, your voice cracking, “I’m not going to be there when you wake up, Harry.” The realization struck him as well, his eyes glancing down for a split second before meeting yours again.

“I’ll still find you. I’ll still come for you on Earth-Prime.”

There was a sudden knock at the door that snapped yours and Harry’s attention towards it, followed by a clearing of the throat and a thick German accent. “If you bozh are done in zhere, I’d like for eine kleine assembly to ‘appen.”

***

Diese beiden schwöre ich. “I don’t… even vant to know vhat you two vere doing.” Wolfgang deadpanned, holding blueprints in one hand and adjusting his glasses. Sherloque stood beside him with a new cup of tea in hand, this time without a fedora.

“We would never-”

“-We were having fun.”

You stumbled over your own words while Harry had owned up to his. You failed to realize the light hickies still on your neck until Wolfgang narrowed his eyes at you and Sherloque rolled his eyes as he watched the exchange. Harry knew they were there; he just didn’t point out that they were visible arm’s length away. Damn it, Harry! Your cheeks heated up and now you’re wondering if your real body now has hickies on them because there’s about to be some words thrown your way by two or three particular members of Team Flash.

“Ah ah ah ah, nein. None of zhat,” the German waved you two off with his hand, “just keep your ‘ormones at a decent level until ve get our bodies back. Zhen you two idiotenliebhaber can do whatever it is you two do when not in a crisis.” You dipped your head down shyly, but that didn’t stop your boyfriend from nudging your side and giving you a smug-ass grin. You glowered at him as he wiggled his eyebrows at you before Wolfgang caught your attention again. “Anyvay, ve need to discuss somezhing else vizh you. Sherloque und I vill also be coming to Earzh-Eins.”

“Why?”

“In case,” Harry started, “I don’t make it in time to recalibrate the Multiversal Communications Projector before all the others. Earth-Prime will essentially give the green light to the others in the multiverse to send in their coordinates.”

“We’ve already figured out Earzh-Prime’s dimensionale coordinates,” Sherloque added in. “Une sécurité intégrée vaut mieux que rien.”

You nodded at their words. I mean it makes sense, but… Wolfgang took out a couple sheets of paper that had been rolled up and hidden in the rolled-up blueprint file, handing it to you. “What’s this?”

“Ein liste of names of all the present Vells who’s neurological vavelengths are entangled vith Nash’s,” Wolfgang stated nonchalantly. “It seems zhat some Earzh are either permanently vacant or do not ‘ave ein Vells.”

“Like Kara’s Earth, old Earth I guess,” You responded, holding the sheets. “She’s Supergirl, used to live on Earth-38. Barry had accidentally multiverse jumped to Earth-38, thanks to Harry. He said that no one from Team Flash’s doppelgangers were on Earth-38, unlike Earth-2 and Earth-19.” Earth-19 Your eyes scanned the list; Wolfgang had done you a great favor in numbering it in Earth order. Could he..? The thought was soon shut out as you looked through the list.

Harry watched as your shoulders sagged, knowing who you were looking for. He pocketed his hands as a fake smile plastered itself onto your face.

***

The day had finally come. It’s time for the boys to come back home. Everyone had gathered in the Speed Lab. The machinery interconnected to one another as if interwoven into one mechanical creature. Your heart pounded in your chest and those dubious thoughts returned, but you willed them back. You needed to believe that this can work. Chester and Cisco were calibrating the tablets and satellites, running newer and improved diagnostics for this moment.

“That favor, that you owe me,” Nash’s voice caught your attention, snapping you out of your trance. You looked up at him with a quizzical look.

“Yeah?”

“I’m cashing it in,” Nash’s voice rasped as he took your hand. You humored the geological explorer. “Protect Allegra,” he whispered, his eyes glancing in her direction as her was turned because she was added the finishing touches with Cisco. The simple wish had surprised you, yet at the same time it didn’t in the slightest. “Please.” He sounded like a dying man marching to his death. And in a way he was if this doesn’t work.

“Always,” you nodded at him. Leaning up, you kissed his forehead softly before placing the Psyche Segregator on his head. “Thank you.” Nash remained silent and only closed his eyes as he sat back down. Releasing a breath, he reopening those piercing blue eyes filled with determination, but you can see that behind it there was a form of fear. He nodded. You nodded back at him, taking a step backwards before looking at the others. It’s time. Cisco handed you the tablet that held the ignition keys. You took in a breath, the weight of the tablet seemingly heavier than ever before. A multiverse of lives held within the tips of your fingers, only fate will decide if they live or die.

Your eyes met Nash’s one last time. Doubt choked your heart, but there was no going back. “Here we go,” you spoke each word slowly before pressing the button to ignite the Psyche Segregator.

Translations (Via Google Translate):

French

J'ai parlé de mes deux cents à ces deux-là - I've spoken my two cents to those two

Et ce n'est pas bon de se mentir à toi-même, Nash - And it's not good to lie to yourself, Nash.

Mon Dieu! Ayez de la décence! - My god! Have some decency!

Une sécurité intégrée vaut mieux que rien - A failsafe is better than nothing

Latin

Quae dicunt, facite vobis cor eius - Your heart is its own treasure

Quod pertinet ad eum - It belongs to him

Nusquam potuerunt alium, qui non pertinent ad quis enim concupíscit. - It could never belong to anyone else who yearns for you.

German

Idiotenliebhaber - idiot lovers

Diese beiden schwöre ich - These two, I swear

154 notes · View notes

theres-a-goldensky · 5 years ago

Text

26 + 2 Various BL Series Fic Recs

Fandoms included in this fic rec list: Love By Chance, TharnType, Until We Meet Again, My Engineer, 2 Moons, HIStory3: Trapped (plus a bit of bonus Theory of Love and WHY R U?)

I’ve found a handful of good fics for all of these tiny pairings that I am newly obsessed with, and I thought I’d share them with you if you’re also looking for something good to read. Please, if you have recs of your own, point me in the direction of any other good stuff!

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

IT chapter 2 list one and two - Reddie

Good Omens - Aziraphale/Crowley

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

LOVE BY CHANCE / THARNTYPE

1. the count up series by sweetiejelly - Tin/Can - ~34,000 words, explicit - A fix-it fic post-canon where Tin and Can slowly work out their issues with some missteps and learning along the way.

So two weeks later, when Can first does it, Tin doesn't know what to do. For the longest while, he just turns off his phone screen. And then turns it back on.

good night, tin. it's been a while but i promised to say good night. so, good night, sleep well.

Every damn time the text is still there.

In the end, Tin deletes it.

The next morning, Can does it again.

good morning, tin. looks like rain today. don't forget your umbrella.

Tin deletes it.

The texts keep coming.

2. ** LBC Aftermath series by Mara - LBC/TharnType crossover- ~6700 words, mature - Were you too horrified by Techno’s ending in LBC? This author feels your pain and did her part to get some justice for Techno. This fic has zero sympathy for Kengkla, which I deeply appreciated. This will help you work out some of your anger. It features LBC!Techno and the TharnType versions of Tharn and Type. Mind the warnings, since this deals with the serious consequences of Kengkla’s actions.

Kengkla stayed at the house through the morning and Techno was so jumpy he nearly leaped out of his skin every time Kla looked at him or talked to him. Even though Kla had explained what happened and how he wasn’t upset to be dating, Techno still felt weird. He kind of wished he remembered what had happened. A guy should remember how he lost his virginity, right?

Kla grabbed him in a big hug and Techno froze, managing a weak grin when Kla pulled back to smile at him. “I’ve got to go home now. But I’ll call you later. Let me know if you go somewhere.”

“O-okay.” Techno stared as the boy let himself out the front door.

3. 5 + 1 by strokeofluck - Tin/Can- ~3600 words, rated general - This is a sweet story about the times when Pete sees Tin having feelings for Can.

Pete weighed his options as he glanced back and forth between Tin and Can. Can didn’t seem to be bothered by the whole thing, he even had a shy smile on his face. Or at least, Pete thought it was a shy smile, he had never really seen this kind of expression coming from Can before.

He could let this whole thing go, he supposed, but he didn’t really want to. It was time for him to finally say to Tin: I told you so.

“You were born in Bangkok,” he said, casting a wide net and hoping Can would find himself caught in it.

Can did.

4. That Testified Surprise by Mara - Techno/Tharn/Type - ~7000 words, mature - This is a LBC canon rewrite that stars the TharnType version of all three characters. Type realizes something is not...quite...right with Kengkla and invites Techno to stay with him and Tharn instead of going home drunk.

Pouring Techno into the passenger seat, Type sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled the phone out to check it, entering the passcode. (The passcode was the birthday of Thai national football team captain Siwarak Tedsungnoen, of course. Duh.)

Fuck, it looked like Nic had been either texting or calling every 20 minutes since they got to the bar. What was up there?

Scrolling back through the evening’s texts, Type scowled harder. Loving brother or not, this was fucking creepy. Going back farther, it looked like it was a pattern. Did the kid do anything other than pester his brother about his whereabouts?

THARNTYPE

5. everything he wants by minkit - ~5100 words, explicit - Type accidentally ruins one of Tharn’s shirts and agrees to do whatever Tharn wants to make up for it. Which means it’s porn stretched over the bare bones of a plot, and it’s great.

Tharn’s hands moved across the bed, slowly, inch by inch and it was frustrating because Type knew they were heading to him, but Tharn took his sweet time. And then they were covering his hands and Tharn’s face was mere centimeters from his and Type could barely breathe. It took everything he had not to lean forward and capture those lips that also belonged to him, but he had a feeling if he tried, Tharn wouldn’t let him. He had that look on his face and Type knew what it meant.

He knew he was in for a long rest of the night.

6. You’ve Got Mail by perthbysaint - ~7800 words, explicit - Type sends Tharn nudes at the most inconvenient times.

A selfie? From Type? Tharn was thanking all of his lucky stars as he happily taps to load the image. The picture loads and Tharn’s phone slips from his suddenly lax grip. Convinced he couldn’t have just seen what he thought he just saw, he picks his phone up hastily and stares very intently at the picture.

It’s a mirror selfie, obviously taken in a changing room, but that thought comes secondary to thighs. Type is holding the camera in front of his face to take the picture, shirt clenched in his other hand and pulled up slightly to show off the shorts. The fucking shorts. He had seen Type in his soccer gear before and yes, Type has most definitely asked for the wrong size and Tharn is more grateful than he’s ever been for anything in his whole life. The shorts are riding up so high they can’t cover more than a few inches of skin, Type’s smooth, powerful thighs on full display. On the inside of his left thigh, there’s a tiny purple mark peeking out from under the bottom of the shorts. Tharn knows exactly what it is because he was the one who left it there just two days ago when he sucked marks into Type’s thighs for a half-hour before he slung Type’s legs over his shoulders and ate him out until Type was sobbing fat tears and begging Tharn to let him come.

7. pet names series by LokelaniRose - ~50,000 words, explicit - A series of post-episode fics that gives us the sex that the show only hinted at, starting with the shower scene.

Tharn prides himself on his self-control. All his passion and intensity is saved for his music, when he’s safely behind a drum kit and can let it all out. He’s never been as irritated by anyone else as he is by Type and all his playground bullying nonsense. Something about the other boy just shakes something loose inside him, rattles at Tharn’s iron discipline until he has to grit his teeth constantly not to just – what? Kiss him? Kill him? Tharn has enough composure (and pride) to put up a front that’s all smiles and wry amusement, but really he regularly skips between one of two daydreams – twisting Type’s head off or fucking him into the ground.

(Tharn is absolutely not going to admit to the third set of daydreams, of curling up around Type when he’s cold or cheering him on at matches or bringing him home to meet Tharn’s father. Nope, no, definitely not.)

2MOONS SERIES

8. ** The universe where we do not commit reckless, unlubricated buttsex by startledoctopus - Forth/Beam - ~8700 words, explicit - This is a great story about Beam giving in and trying to seduce Forth the same way he seduced all of those girls in his past. This Forth is great, and the story retcons their first time to something far more pleasant for Beam.

"We're heading into a unit on disorders of the spine and I need to review my basic skeletal and muscular anatomy. But it feels stupid to keep studying these weird-looking diagrams and drawings." None of this was, strictly speaking, factual, but an engineering major wouldn't know any different. Beam gathered up all his bravado, walked behind Forth, and began rucking up his shirts as if this were completely normal.

"What! I..."

"Shut up, I need to look at a real back so I know what I'll be looking at as a doctor." Forth let him take the shirts off, glancing back at him several times but giving in meekly to Beam's stern look. Forth shuffled the papers some more.

"All right. Okay, um...Ah!" Beam smirked at Forth's reaction as he ran his thumbs down the nape of his neck.

9. Good Things Come To by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~4300 words, explicit - Kit gets drunk and reveals more of his feelings for Ming than he probably means to.

"Hmm." Kit closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest. "Ming, Ming, Ming. Do you know your name's a kiss? I'm kissing the air everytime I say 'Ming'!" Kit pops his mouth and it pops Ming's mind a bit. "And then I think about kissing you. Why do you make me think about you so damn much? You're so annoying, Ming. No one's ever..." and Kit leans to the side, almost like he's going to conk out or throw up, only to straighten back up. "... made me this crazy."

Oh shit. Ming doesn't know what to do with all of this information. He knew somewhere deep down that Kit likes him. Kit's eyes can't lie. Kit's mouth can't either, the cusses coming out whenever he's keyed up and flustered, and then there are his kisses.

10 + 11. ** how to fail flirt your way into his heart (a guide by Kit) and a little conversation (and a little action please) by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~30,000 words, explicit in the second part - This story makes a tiny plot divergence. It has Kit put a little more effort into finding out if Ming is really into Yo and then from there, it loosely follows the plot of the show with some key differences. I really enjoyed this.

"Can I have your number?" Kit mentally face-palms. Why? Damn Pha. Damn Beam. Just damn everything, ugh. He has never flirted in his life. Pin asked him out, okay? He doesn't know how to do this. "I'm Kit, Phana's friend," he says, trying to make it less weird.

"I'm Ming. And of course, P'Kit!" Ming flashes him an easy grin and holds out his hand.

Oh right, the phone. Kit shoves it at Ming, nearly hitting him in the chest. Great, he's acing this.

Ming smiles at him, bemused or confused, probably both, and brushes his hand, totally unnecessarily, over the back of Kit's hand as he takes the phone. "In case of emergency, right?" Ming looks up at him from under his lashes and boy, this nong is brazen.

12. ** In Control series by LokelaniRose - Ming/Kit - ~27,000 words, explicit - Kit struggles to tell Ming that he wants something other than the careful, gentle sex they’ve been having. Ming discovers that Kit has some anxiety and panic problems. He also discovers what helps him feel better. [spoilers: these two things are connected.] I love how attentive and caring Ming is throughout this series. The anxious Kit also rings true to the character we saw on the show.

But now that Kit is fretting over things, he might as well fret over this as well. So Ming is great in bed. And let’s be honest, Kit probably isn’t. He hasn’t had a hundred previous partners – okay, tiny exaggeration, but still – and doesn’t know all the fancy moves and techniques and tricks…and just like everything else, in bed Ming is somehow casual and sincere at the same time. He never seems to want anything except what Kit wants, is always happy to do whatever, to take his time making slow, gentle love to Kit. Kit knows that he always comes at least – he secretly really likes it when Ming comes, he’s not quite sure why – but what if there’s more that Kit could be doing, to make it better for him? If Kit was better in bed maybe it would make up for being a shitty boyfriend in other areas, one who can’t be nice in public or talk about his feelings.

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

13. another nightmare fic by itsmylifekay - Win/Team - ~2300 words, not rated - Team tries to sleep without Win and it doesn’t go well.

Team’s room feels suffocating, the air too thick and the space too dark and the covers sticking to his skin with sweat. His breaths are too loud in the quiet, but the quiet itself is deafening. It reminds him of the water. The muted sounds. The frantic pounding of his heart. (The same one he feels now echoed in his chest.)

Flashes of the dream come back to him unbidden.

Everything is too dark, too bright, no way to see what way is up or what way is down. He’s trapped. Can’t get out. Can’t breathe.

14. ** Different With You by blackrose9212 - Win/Team - ~6900 words, teen - It’s open swim week, which means that the swimming club offers free lessons to any of the students who would like to participate. Team doesn’t understand why his teammates hate it so much - until he does. Great jealousy in this one from both sides.

“Nice to meet you,” the boy gushes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to join your group. Auntie said there needs to be at least three people, and no one was sitting across from you two. I’ve been paying attention so I already have ideas. Is that okay?” Team watches as he pulls out his books and drops them onto the table, pushing them a little farther out so they’re nearly touching Win’s notebook.

Team shrugs. “Sure, that’s fine. I don’t think Win has been paying attention so I’m glad you have an idea of what’s going on.”

Win hits him lightly at the back of the hand and Film giggles behind his hand. “Oh, no, P’Win looks very smart. I’m sure he’s been listening.” He looks at Win and smiles a little, blushing when Win gives him a smile back.

Team looks between the two of them. Then back at Film, who’s watching Win leaf through his literature textbook like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, and then past Film at the table he left from, where he sees three boys, laughing behind their hands and making cooing faces.

15. seven hundred thirteen by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~6800 words, mature - Win spends two years abroad in England, and he and Team have to navigate a long distance relationship. It’s very sweet and written very true to life.

“I kind of hoped you were going to show up at the airport tomorrow morning and chase the plane,” Win says. He kisses Team’s hair, lingering there to memorize the fresh, clear scent.

Team says, “Is it weird that I thought about doing that?” and Win feels him smile against his shoulder.

It’s late, nearly nine thirty, and Win had plans of how to spend tonight that can’t be realized anymore. He wanted to invite Team to dinner with his family. He wanted to play video games with Team and View. He wanted to talk about London with Waan and Team. He wanted to include Team in his family’s warmth in some small way, to make him feel less lonely.

He can’t do any of that now but he still wants to sneak Team upstairs and have him in his arms all night. He wouldn’t, but he wants to. It’s been a month since he moved off campus permanently, and weeks since he was last able to spend a night alone with Team.

16. ** You Can Cry by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~19,600 words, mature - Win goes missing while on vacation with some friends. Team is left at home trying to handle it. I like the way the author built up to the accident happening. They did a good job creating tension and showing us exactly how Team felt about Win. And spoilers, this story has a happy ending.

“You’re going to fail out of university,” Team tells him. “You’re not really going, are you?”

Win rolls onto his side and perches his cheek on his hand. “What if I say yes?” he asks. “Will you miss me?”

Team’s warning look is more venomous than usual. “Not at all,” Team says, and Win smirks because that isn’t true and they both know it. “You still shouldn’t go. What if you miss the flight back? You’ll fail out and I’ll break up with you for being a dumbass.”

The very recent phenomenon of Team acknowledging that they’re a couple has its usual melting effect on Win’s heart.

2GETHER

17. ** Love Songs on Our Skin series by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~15,700 words, explicit - A soulmark AU where Tine is born with the notes to a song that hasn’t yet been written wrapped around his chest. I enjoyed how Tine’s obliviousness in the show carries over to this fic.

Only Mr. Chic would have a song no one had ever fucking heard of permanently etched on his chest. For fuck's sake .

Still, he waves it off, and he tries not to look too closely at other people's marks. Tries being the key word. He doesn't envy the elegant watercolors of a guitar pick and an open novel he catches sight of on the wrists of some couple's interlinked hands when he's in town. And he certainly doesn't envy the dude he once saw in a coffee shop with the words " I hate you " scrawled across the back of his neck. But yeah, okay, he might be a little jealous of the people who are lucky enough to have something as simple as their soulmate's name on their skin. That definitely isn't fair.

"Why couldn't it at least have been a Scrubb song?" he asks the mirror as he wipes it clear shower-born condensation. The mirror and him are well acquainted with this conversation by now. In fact, the mirror sees the stupid mark more than anyone, so it might as well put up with his equally stupid questions. "It could have been 'Together.' Just think of it, how romantic it would be to meet some cute girl's eyes after bumping into them at a concert, my favorite song playing . . ." He draws a nail over the winding bars of the music on his chest, frowning. "That would be so much easier."

18. Drown Your Sorrows by HyacinthsSoul - 2gether/Theory of Love - Sarawat and Third meet at a bar and bond over being in love with oblivious men.

“No, he’s an angel,” Sarawat says. “Unfortunately he’s a very stupid, very straight angel.”

“Mine’s stupid too,” the other man admits. “But definitely no angel. I’m Third, by the way,” he adds, offering a slender hand to shake.

“Sarawat,” says Sarawat. “Can I buy you another? I think we’re drinking the same thing, although I can’t remember what it’s called.”

20. ** Your Body Is My Instrument by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~12,000 words, explicit - This fic does a good job doing what, in this reccer’s humble opinion, the series failed to: showing Tine attracted to Sarawat. There’s great first time sex and some fun sexual tension. Plus, we get to see them switch off, which is extremely rare in BL. And most importantly: hand kink.

It starts innocently enough. Or, well, innocently enough for a guy whose first words to him were, “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll kiss you till you drop.” So, you know. It starts kinda like that.

They’ve been officially dating for a grand sum total of three days and altogether not that much has changed. Except that Sarawat touches him more now. Normally this would be fine, no big deal, right? But Sarawat has magic, evil hands, and apparently all he has to do is glance Tine’s way to deduce the exact right places and ways to touch Tine to drive him up the fucking wall.

And the worst part is it’s almost never the same place or the same way twice, and the only warning Tine ever gets is that sneaky little glint Sarawat gets in his eyes just before he does it, the bastard.

MY ENGINEER

21. Cool Boy(friend) by HyacinthsSoul - Ram/King - ~22,000 words, explicit - So this is technically a WIP, but each chapter feels like a completed fic without a cliffhanger or anything. This is a very sweet, comfortable story about King and Ram getting to know each other as their relationship develops.

In the selfie King sends, he’s holding up a full shot glass while someone’s arm reaches into the frame to hand him another kind of drink, something tall with a straw and a paper umbrella. Ram frowns. Whose arm is that? The person is wearing a red long-sleeved shirt, which doesn’t match what any of their friend group was wearing, and the engineer bar doesn’t offer table service.

Frowning, Ram looks back through the previous photos until he spots a detail he’d overlooked before: a red-shirted man at a neighboring table. He’s visible in the background of two or three pictures taken by Tee, and in each of them he’s staring intently at King.

Not that it’s any of Ram’s business. Not that he cares.

HISTORY3: TRAPPED

22. it’s too late (to turn back now) by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~7200 words, general audiences - Canon divergence fic where Tang Yi pushes Shao Fei away after he saves Hong Ye in order to try and protect him. Shao Fei reacts to that about as well as you’d expect.

“Tang Yi, what do you mean-“

“I think you’ve fooled around for long enough,” Tang Yi interrupts, his voice cold, nothing like the man who had dabbed at his lips with a cotton bud last night, the man who had smiled at him when he made the cannon joke.

“You’ve disrupted my life, and the life of my family and friends in the past few weeks, Meng Shao Fei. This has gone for long enough,” he continues, unwavering. “I don’t want to have anything more to do with you. Take a good rest here in the hospital, and I’ll get someone to pack up your things back at the house. Jack will deliver it back to your apartment.”

23 + 24. ** just waiting, waiting (on you) and between you and me by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~16,000 words, general audiences - These are stories about how Shao Fei and the rest of the gang deal over the years when Tang Yi is in jail. Found family fics are my jam, so I loved this.

The thing is, it’s been almost three months of this. 90 days, give or take. 2,160 hours. 129,600 minutes. And more than 7 million seconds of this — not having Tang Yi at his side.

Shao Fei wonders for a moment if he will ever stop seeing Tang Yi in every corner of the house. When he comes down the stairs in the morning, some part of him expects to see Tang Yi standing at the kitchen island with a bright smile, asking him if he wants jam with his toast that morning. Shao Fei sees Tang Yi in that apron he loves, cooking at the stove when he fixes himself dinner, alone in the spacious kitchen. Seeing Tang Yi’s favourite blue bathrobe, Shao Fei can almost see Tang Yi leaving the bathroom, his hair all wet and falling over his eyes.

25. amuse bouche by sarahyyy - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~2400 words, general audiences - This is more of Jack seducing Zhao Zi through food and attention. So basically an extension of the show. Mother hen Jack is the cutest.

“Jack?” Zhao Zi murmurs blearily. “Why are you here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Jack shoots back, herding Zhao Zi back into the house. He checks for Zhao Zi’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Fever?”

“Just the flu for now, I think?” Zhao Zi says.

Jack purses his lips. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I had some bread earlier?” Zhao Zi says, but he also looks shifty enough that Jack mostly takes it with a grain of salt.

26. Absolutely Nothing Goes Wrong by anon - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~4500 words, teen - This is an AU where Zhao Zi is the son of a rival mob boss, but he’s still, you know HIMSELF. And when his father says he’s useless, he decides to prove him wrong by seducing Tang Yi’s second-in-command. It’s absolutely adorable.

The man pulled him by the arm, resisting Zhao Zi’s attempts to unhook his claws without causing a scene.

“Hey, stop grabbing me!” he shouted, as the other man played deaf.

“While I admit this is a very loud bar, I didn’t think it was quite so easy to mishear what this young man just yelled straight into your ear,” a newcomer who’d witnessed their conflict said lightly as he walked up to them. His words were accompanied by a wide, almost chilling smile. Zhao Zi blinked once and the odd peculiarity of that smile vanished, leaving just a regular smile in its place. He must’ve just been imagining things under the harsh shadows of the dimly lit bar.

AND +2

Because I’m shameless, I’ll add my own two fics to the end, if you’re interested.

WHY R U?

27. Sorry A Thousand Times - Fighter/Tutor - ~3200 words, explicit - This is a canon divergence for the series finale. I needed more catharsis after the intensity of episode 12.

Tutor narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you listen?” he asked. I don’t know how many more times I can bring myself to say it.

“Only once,” Fight said and then added, “if you mean it.”

Tutor crossed his arms over his chest and said, “What makes you think I don’t mean it now?”

The corner of Fight’s mouth turned up and he took a step closer. Tutor stumbled back until he was stopped by his legs hitting the edge of the bed. Fight reached out a hand and gently ran the back of his fingers over the line of Tutor’s jaw.

Until We Meet Again

28. Dream On - Win/Team - 8900 words, explicit - Takes place alongside show canon, so that we see how the bed sharing began and how Win and Team’s relationship developed over that year.

“Do you want to do well tomorrow?” Win asked, throwing one of his legs over both of Team’s.

“Yes,” Team said as he did his best to put some space between them on the tiny mattress.

“Then you need to get some sleep. I’m helping.”

“How is this helping?” Team demanded.

“Would you stop…” Win said, shifting closer every time Team pulled away. “Five minutes, Team. Just be still for five minutes, okay?”

114 notes · View notes

angelicspaceprince · 5 years ago

Text

Ouija

Author: Ama

Title: Ouija

Pairing: Possible Future Beetlejuice/Reader

Character/s: Beetlejuice

Word Count: 2, 473 words

Warnings: Beetlejuice has dyslexia, I do not, I tried.

Tags: @yankyo, @justballoonfishthings, @breadbudzo, @aethersghoulette, @ironically-deadinside, @beetlejuicecansteponme, @beetlebitchywitch (some of you asked, some of you I just tagged bc)

Prompt: You find a Ouija board and end up communicating with a ghost who has trouble spelling. Together you figure out a way for him to communicate with you a little bit easier.

Notes: I promised this fic like ages ago, based off of @slut-4-beetlejuice hcs that they wrote ages ago and we kinda did a dance of reblogs where we added to each other. But yeah, this is what I came up with! My plan for this fic is to do it in two parts and if y’all want more I can write more later, but I’m basically gonna portray your side of the story and then our favourite residential ghost with the most. This, obviously, is the reader’s side of the story. This is my first attempt at writing Beetlejuice as a fic, not as a hc so please be gentle with me. I hope y’all enjoy!Also, I had speechie friendo talk to me about dyslexia and I based Beej’s spelling mistakes around the notes she sent me.

Ouija Board Inspiration

Buy Me a Coffee

Ouija

It had started out innocently enough. You were bored and decided to spend the day exploring your new attic. You found a box filled with old games and decided that you wanted to sort through them, see if any were unusual or rare that you could keep. Most of them, you planned to donate somewhere, or put them back into storage.

You weren’t expecting much. Maybe a torn-up game of Twister, or Mouse Trap. Half a pack of Uno cards, or a ruined game of Trouble, and for the most part, you got what you expected. But when you found the Ouija board, you were a little surprised. Most of the games were for children, and weren’t in good enough nick to keep, let alone play. But the Ouija board looked like it just came out of the factory that created it. You go to lift the case from the bottom of the box, surprised by how heavy it was when you started to lift, nearly dropping it twice when you finally got it out and onto the table in front of you. Carefully, you lift the lid.

No wonder it was heavy. The Ouija board was wooden, and bigger than you were expecting. The dark wood had been engraved with the usual things a Ouija has, Yes, No, Goodbye, numbers 0-9 and every letter of the alphabet, the outside decorated with various designs you couldn’t make out in the dark. The one you could recognise was the pentagram engraved between the Yes and the No on the board. The planchette was also heavy, made from the same wood as the board, engraved with just two x’s, indicating where to put your finger.

You look over at the board as you hold the planchette in your hands. You were bored, yes. The attic was now in a state, yes. But the urge to test out the Ouija board was beginning to get too great. You organise yourself on the floor, placing the planchette in the middle of the board and just.... waiting. Not really sure on what to do now.

“Uh…hello?” Your voice is uncertain before you yelp when the cursor on the board begins to move. Yes, your fingers are on the x’s, but you weren’t providing any pressure. It just moved on its own.

‘H – I.’ The cursor spells out as your brain sort circuits as it returns to the centre of the board.

“Uhhhhh.” You pause, not sure how to proceed. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” The planchette seems to shake a little before moving towards the ‘No’ part of the board, returning to the centre. “You don’t want to tell me?” It moves back to the ‘No’. “That’s ok then. Can I ask if you’re really dead?” It moves to the ‘Yes’. “Is that yes I can ask, or yes you are?”

‘YES, I – A – M – D – E – D.’ You repeat the phrase once you’ve spelt out the letters quietly to show you’re aware of which letter the ghost was indicating with. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d get a response, or one so soon.”

‘F – L – G – U – R – E – D.’

“Can I ask some questions about life after death?” You wait for the cursor to move over the Yes before continuing. “Is there a hell?”

So, it continued. Every day, after work, you’d come home and race up to the attic and spend time talking to your ghostly friend, who still wouldn’t tell you their name. All you knew was they were dead, had been for centuries, were bored, and were something called a bio-exorcist (which took a couple of attempts to spell). You also learnt that any form of parental figure, they hated, and any form of rules and regulations was not something they enjoyed.

You also noticed that they had a weird tendency to refuse certain questions or struggled to spell words correctly when they did. Sure, exorcist, intelligence and February weren’t easy words to spell when you weren’t writing them down, but replacing b’s for d’s and p’s for q’s, c’s for o’s and n’s for m’s. There were a lot of little things you picked up over time made you think perhaps there was more to this story.

So, you changed direction. One evening, you were talking about work and things that annoyed you and a question you thought they’d be fine answering, but the planchette just started to shake. You pause for a second, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Do you want to answer the question?” The cursor slides quickly and heavily to the ‘Yes’, causing you to move your whole body with it before it tentatively returns to the centre of the board. You think for a second as the planchette continues to vibrate with what feels like annoyance. “Can you spell the answer?” The planchette stops moving and everything is still. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. You wait for thirty seconds before you say “Hello?” and like that, the cursor slowly, tentatively, goes over towards the ‘No’ part of the board followed by a ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-E-E-M-A-B-A-D-S-P-E-L-E-R. “Oh. That’s ok, I’m pretty rubbish without spell check too. Take your time.” Everything stops for a second, the energy that is always humming when you’re up here seems to have dropped to a low throb, and you slowly remove your hands from the planchette as you think.

‘How can I make this easier for them?’ You hum for a second before returning your hands to the board. “Would you prefer yes or no questions?” The planchette slides quickly over to the ‘Yes’ and you smile. “Ok, if something isn’t a yes or no question, I’ll provide answers and you can slide to the numbers to tell me which one is appropriate. Does that work?” Again, ‘Yes’.

Life moves on. It was weird at first, but you got used to asking only yes or no questions and becoming content with that as a response. A few more weeks went by, you slowly began to spend more time talking to the ghost in the attic. It was fascinating, and you were lonely and suspected they were too. Why else would they talk to you night after night after night? You never brought up the idea that perhaps they may have been lonely, but you focused on making sure like they felt like they had a friend.

A few more weeks had passed before you came up with a new idea. As good as it was to make them feel like they weren’t stupid for their spelling, you felt like you were muting them or speaking on their behalf. So, on your Saturday evening as you ate your dinner and you asked a question about if they enjoyed scaring people whenever they got the chance and the planchette moved by its own accord, you stared down at the board for a few minutes in shock. “You can move things WITHOUT me helping?”

‘Yes.’

“Why the fuck do I have to hold it then?” You forget to offer options as you take a breath, hearing the planchette slide across the board. “Its fine, I was just in shock.” You explain, not looking at what the ghost was being said. An idea pings in your head. “With your bad spelling, does it affect your reading or is it easier? One for both are hard, two for reading is easier.”

The planchette wobbles for a second before it slides over between the two. ‘R-E-A-D-I-M-G-I-S-S-T-I-L-L-H-A-R-D.’ It spells out. ‘B-UT-N-O-T-A-S-H-A-R-D-A-S-S-P-E-L-I-M-G.’

You can sense the confusion in the room as you nod, already thinking of a plan. “Have you always struggled with reading and spelling?” ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-U-T-I-N-J-U-S-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ You you’re your heart break slightly when they call themselves that. “Sweetheart, have you ever heard of the term dyslexia?” ‘No’. “It’s where your brain struggles to recognise letters or sounds, it makes it hard for people to read and write. They often miss letters or get letters mixed up, or sometimes even add letters that aren’t meant to be there.” You explain gently. “I think you may have the same kind my friend has. He reads a lot even though it’s a struggle, but if you get him to spell, he’s absolutely hopeless. Amazing at math, though. Like a walking calculator.” You smile as you get distracted before you shake your head and bring yourself back to the present. “I don’t think you’re stupid, love, I think perhaps your brain just isn’t wired to like letters and words.” You explain as you fiddle with your hands, unsure on where to put them. The planchette doesn’t move, but you can feel the air growing thicker.

‘N-O-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ – the planchette draws a question mark over the entire board. You shake your head.

“Not stupid at all, pet.” A few seconds pass before the planchette moves over to the ‘Goodbye’ section. You sigh, slightly disappointed that they wanted to leave so soon. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You ran late to work the next day, replaying the conversation in your head with your resident ghost over and over again as it kept you up later and later into the night. Your plan wasn’t well thought out at this stage, but you could get things started.

You stay late after work to make up for the hour that you missed this morning before rushing to the bookshop, making it there 10 minutes before they closed. You found what you wanted and quickly purchased it before rushing home, making sure to grab something for dinner as you drive home.

The moment you arrived home and placed your bags by the front door, the house felt empty. For the first time since using the Ouija board, the house felt like you were the only one in it. Pulling out the Ouija board, you asked if they were here. Nothing. You put your fingers on the planchette. Nothing again. You call out to them to see if they were there, nothing. You sigh before packing it back up. Perhaps your new-found friend had moved on.

It was a few days before your ghostly friend returned. The house had felt barren the entire time they were gone, you had stopped bringing out the board the day they returned, figuring that they just weren’t going to come back. A loud crash from the living room caused you to run out from the kitchen where you were preparing dinner to see what had happened. On the floor was the Ouija board, set up and ready to go with the planchette moving wildly across the board, so fast you couldn’t keep up.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on.” You rush back upstairs to grab the item you had purchased for them the week prior before rushing back downstairs and putting it next to the board with a satisfying thud. “I got you a dictionary, they had one with pictures which I thought could help.” You explain to where you hoped the ghost was. You put a pen in front of the giant book. “Just…. point I guess to the word you want to say. If you want to try it this way that is, I thought it might be easier for you.”

The air seemed thick as you waited for something to move, the planchette or the book. Suddenly, the cover of the book seemed to gingerly open as the ghost slowly looked for the words he was looking for. ‘IT-IS-EASIER’ they indicated with the pen. You smile as the pages begin to turn in a flurry, clearly excited to be able to communicate with you a bit easier.

So, life continued. The ghost (who you later found out was a man) would follow you from room to room, carrying the pen and the book to indicate different words to you, making comments on nearly everything that he wasn’t able to before, from the shade of paint on your walls (he thought they should be green) to what you were wearing (he was really into you wearing stripes for some reason), he would readily give your opinion on everything. It was weird, but you could feel yourself slowly falling for the now forever talking ghost. The freedom that came with the dictionary meant that your conversations become more…. conversation like. He wasn’t restricted to just yes or no answers, and you weren’t restricted to staying in one room. You found yourself having dinners next to the constantly page flipping book and laughing at his bad jokes and giving some back of your own. You found small doodles on the outside of the dictionary too, his own little crude drawings he did when you weren’t home. It was nice, it felt like some kind of perverse kind of domestic.

It had been months since your initial contact with him, and you still didn’t know his name and, to be honest, it was beginning to bug you. You didn’t say or show your annoyance about not knowing his name, but you figured it was time you knew. So, when you came home that night and had set up your dinner in your usual set up, you finally decided to ask. “Can I know your name?”

It took a minute before your squatter decided to respond. ‘ORION-BRIGHT-STAR’.

“Orion’s brightest star?” You say, almost as a question as you pull out your phone to do a quick Google. “Beetlejuice?” You look up to see a fury of pages flying as he quickly makes his way over to the ‘A’ section of the dictionary.

‘AGAIN’

“Beetlejuice?”

The pen slams back down on the page. ‘AGAIN.’

You hesitate. “Beetlejuice?”

There was a crash, a bang, and way too much smoke that filled the room as bright green lights seemed to radiate from outside your house. You cough and wave your hand to clear the smoke from your mouth when you finally hear it.

“Thanks for that babes, I’ve been wanting you to see me for months now.” You blink before you see him. He was-

Cuter than you were expecting. Shorter too. Not the scary man you had envisioned, but rather an adorable guy dressed in arguably way too many stripes, even though it seemed to suit. The green in his hair was vibrant and his whole being seemed to shake with excitement. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s wrong babes? Cat got your tongue?” He leans in closer to take a better look at you, but all you could focus on was the bright green of his eyes.

“You’re hotter than I imagined.” You heard yourself say before you turn bright, bright red. The grin on his face widens as he chuckles lowly, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh babes, we are going to have so much fun.”

#ama writes #ama's stuff #Beetlejuice the Musical #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice The Animated Series #Beetlejuice (1988)#Betelgeuse #Beetlejuice headcanons #beetlejuice the musical headcanons #headcanons #betelgeuse headcanons #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice/reader #betelgeuse/reader #betelgeuse x reader #beetlejuice x reader headcanons #beetlejuice/reader headcanons

164 notes · View notes

themfchase · 6 years ago

Text

blindfold - (2)

Jeon Jungkook x reader

‒ blindfold. (m) ✎ [7k words]

genre: smut, nsfw, college!au

warnings: oral, fingering, blindfold, sex with a stranger? Strange things happen all the time, just like what you’re being offered by a strange tall man in a quiet coffee shop near campus. Strangers that you can’t see and only hear, and a strange boy that barely speaks but seems to be everywhere aren’t that common, on the other hand. But for some reason... You’re really keen on strange things. A/N: Hey guys, I hope you’re enjoying this little series, if you do, please feel free to give me feedback on it and please reblog if you can >.< ok, bye bye.

part 1 part 3. part 4.part 5. part 6. masterlist.

You walked to your new class, a class that wasn’t in your schedule, but you took it to see if it helped with your finals essay. You avoided your phone and the text message from the day before and tried to focus on your normal life. You didn’t know if you wanted to forget what had happened the day before or to keep it clear in your head. You didn’t even bother to check your bank account because you knew that he would have kept his word, just as he did the night before. As you walked inside the class, you chose a seat up front; you wanted to distract yourself, so maybe taking this class would help. You got out your laptop and waited for the class to start. “Hey!” A body sat down next to you and when you looked it was Namjoon, the boy Malia was making out with on Saturday. “Oh, hi Namjoon.” You said with a weak voice. “I didn’t know you took this class.” He started taking out a notepad from his bag. You smiled at him. “I don’t... I wanted to see if it helped me with my finals essay.” He nodded. “Already starting a year ahead, I see... Smart.” He stated. You chuckled, and his eyes shifted towards the front of the class. “Why is Jungkook staring at you?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “Who?” You asked. “Jungkook, the new kid... Well, not exactly new, he moved in two months ago to the frat house, we just keep saying he’s new because he barely leaves his room or talks to any of us.” He said. You looked to the direction of the Jungkook boy who was looking at you and when your eyes met; he lingered for a while before averting them and looking at the front of the class. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny it, but his eyes were dark, filled with something you couldn’t pinpoint. You continued observing him, his wide back, the way his white shirt sleeves hugged his muscular arms. “Is he the one with the metal door?” You asked without taking your eyes from the boy. “Yeah, he’s like super neurotic or something, he developed an app when he was a teenager that kind of got sold to the government and now he’s filthy rich.” You looked at Namjoon and nodded in understanding. “He must be very smart.” You said still curious about the boy, he looked back at you one last time noticing you staring at him and you saw him tense. “He’s a genius, but I’m the frat leader so, I overpower his intelligence.” He laughed while you continued to look at the boy. “Hey, by the way, Malia is coming over after class to help us make cupcakes for the fair, would you like to come?” Namjoon was a sweet guy, he and Malia would always make out when you went to parties at his frat and you always thought he had a hard crush on her. “I don’t know Joon, Yoongi is going to be there, right?” You made a face and sighed. “Yoongi is out for the week, something about a cousin getting married or something.” He said, and you both got interrupted by the teacher starting the lecture. You thought about the idea of going back to the frat house after what had happened last time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to do something different, maybe having friends like Namjoon would be nice. And you sure were curious about Jungkook. You leaned in next to him and whispered. “You know what, sure, I’d love to go.” And he smiled at you, content. You looked at the boy with the white shirt in front of the class, your curiosity again taking the best of you. After class ended you saw yourself in front of the frat house, the door was wide open like always and some other frat boys were there, some on the couch playing video games while others were making the sign for their booth and other crafts for the fair. You walked towards the kitchen and saw Namjoon, Malia, a boy you knew as Jimin, and Hoseok. They were mixing batter and frosting, purple frosting. You walked in on them laughing about something Jimin had done during the weekend. “Hey, you made it!” Namjoon said when he saw you. “Oh god, it’s going to rain today, Y/N isn’t home planning her entire life!” Malia teased you and you gave her the tongue. You said hi to everyone, and they resumed the conversation. “Come one, though, Joon, you can’t blame me for wanting to put the die in his shampoo, just like you guys did to me when I first joined,” Jimin said. “I just wanted to see a reaction out of him, it’s like he’s a robot.” “Yeah, wait until one of his security guards comes into your bedroom at night, you’ll see how much of a robot he is.” You were oblivious as to what they were talking about but showed interest. “Who did you prank?” You asked and Malia rolled her eyes. “Oh no, he’s going to tell the entire story again.” Namjoon interrupted. “Jungkook, but the boy has some spider sense or something because he took a shower and his hair came out just like it did before, so we’re assuming he found out.” He said while he spilled batter into the cupcake pan. “Why don’t we just ask him?” Hoseok pitched in. “Yo, Jungkook, come here!” He yelled out, and you were quite eager to see the boy from earlier. Soon enough, there he was coming down the stairs. He wore the same white shirt from earlier and gray sweats, his hands inside the pockets. He looked serious and when he saw you and Malia in the kitchen, he froze on the last two steps. His eyes shot straight to you and you blinked a couple of times before looking away, your cheeks burning a little while Malia gave you two a curious look. “Come here, why are you standing there?” Hoseok asked, and it seemed like that made the boy come back to reality. “Jungkook, why isn’t your hair died?” Namjoon asked while he approached the middle counter of the frat kitchen. He bit his lower lip, not answering the question. Hoseok sighed, and Jimin rolled his eyes. “He’s doing it again.” Namjoon seemed to understand the awkwardness of the situation and decided to change the subject. “Jungkook, this is Malia and y/n.” You extended your hand towards him and he just looked at it, it almost seemed like he was afraid to touch it, but the darkness in his eyes never left him as he looked up at you. You bit your lower lip, embarrassed as you were going to retract your hands, but the boy soon took it, shaking it firmly. His hand was warm and soft and his fingers were long. “Nice to meet you.” You said with a half smile. His expression never changed, and he soon let go of your hand. Malia just smiled at him and resumed her focus on the purple frosting. “Jungkook isn’t a man of many words,” Hoseok said and the boy clenched his jaw. You looked at him again, his eyes meeting yours for a while. God, he was handsome. Hot. Everything. The shape of his jaw and the form of his lips, the way his hair fell messy in front of his forehead. “It’s ok to not like to speak, sometimes words are too distracting.” You said and played with your fingers, trying to avoid the intense gaze he held. Namjoon seemed to notice the way the boy looked at you, so he decided to give you two a task together. “Hey, Kook, why don’t you take y/n to the back garden and try to organize the ribbons for the fair, you know it’s mandatory, so, chop chop.” He seemed tense, looking from Namjoon to you, something about the serious way he looked at you as if he was almost annoyed made you feel small. He nodded once and turned his back; you followed. You walked right behind him as he stopped in front of the glass door, sliding it open and trying to get away from you as fast as possible. It was silent between the two of you while he separated the ribbons in a section of color. You couldn’t help but stare at his arms and fingers while he did so, he was so delicate when handling them and you two were so close you could almost feel the heat from his body. “Uhm... So... Are you excited for the fair?” You tried to do small talk. You honestly needed a distraction from all the noise in your head. The feeling from yesterday still lingered on you and you needed to take your head off it. The boy didn’t answer, neither did he look at you. “I’m sorry, I... I just wanted to talk, bad day.” You admitted focusing on the ribbons in front of you. Cursing yourself mentally for even thinking he would be interested in that information. “Why?” His voice was low, almost a whisper. You whipped your head towards Jungkook, not expecting his question, he continued looking towards the ribbons, you could now pay attention to the shape his profile made. He was something else. You shrugged, not knowing how to tell him you were having a bad day because you couldn’t take a stranger off your head for giving you the most pleasure you felt in your life. So instead... You lied. “I guess... Boy trouble?” You started, and he nodded. “I met someone... It’s messing with my head.” You swallowed, already feeling the lump in your throat. You barely noticed when his head tilted slightly to the side, his brows meeting slightly in the middle. “What did he do?” His voice was a little louder, raspy. A shiver ran down your spine and you shook it off, you were way too sensitive lately. “I... Well... He asked me to do something, and I did... A-and even though I was the one that came out with the most... Uhm... Satisfaction... it still feels like I did something wrong.” You said in a weak voice. He looked at your from the corner of his eyes, measuring you up and down then looking at your hands where you played with the ribbon instead of asserting them. “Was it something good?” He asked without taking his eyes off you and in that moment you felt like you recognized him from somewhere. His dark eyes, his lips in a straight line, his tense body, and his low, raspy voice. “It was a-amazing... It was... Unforgettable.” You bit your lower lip, nervous. You looked at him noticing the way his pupils slightly dilated, his Adam’s apple moving. “S-sorry... Have we met before?” You asked, and that made him blink and look back at the ribbons shaking his head. “No.” He said. Cold and with no emotion. You nodded and resumed your task. It went silent from there, and you didn’t know how else to continue the conversation. You could feel the tension in the air, either it was from the way the very, very attractive genius was standing right next to you, and the way his veins were so visible in his arms. You almost wished he touched you. You felt your face turn red from the inappropriate thoughts. Jesus, this was a frat boy from your ex’s frat, how much more of a whore were you going to be? Soon, Malia came to your rescue telling you to come to try out some frostings. You nodded avoiding his eyes. You stopped at the door for a second and turned around, your eyes locked with his and there it was... The same look from earlier. A look so dark and so full of something you couldn’t pinpoint. You almost choked at how intense it was but forced a soft smile. “Well, it was nice meeting you, guess I’ll see you around... J-Jungkook.” And there you saw his entire body change. He tensed up with the sound of his name, his eyes shutting for a brief moment and he stopped his hands, taking a deep breath. You almost whimpered, somehow his reaction made you even more curious about him. But at the same time... What about your stranger? You swallowed and shook your head before turning on your feet and heading back to the kitchen. You remembered Namjoon had told you he developed an app, and maybe that was where you knew him from, probably an article or something like that. Or maybe you just saw him around campus. You tried to get the silent boy from your thoughts; you were curious about him and how mysterious he was, but you were also struggling with the things you had done the day prior. It wasn’t until around night time when you were finally distracted with the starting of your essay that you heard your phone ring. You looked at the screen, reading “Unknown caller” and answered. “Hello?” The line was silent for a while. “Hello, sweetheart.” And you closed your eyes, a shiver running down your spine. His low, raspy voice, serious and stern made you weak, and you didn’t know why. Well, you had an idea. You clutched the phone against your ear and bit your lower lip. “Hello, Sir.” You answered, your voice came out weak and choked out. “Did you have fun yesterday?” He asked, his voice so lustful it sounded like a sin. You didn’t know how to answer, you stayed silent. “I want to see you again.” He then stated. A sense of urgency in his voice, you could hear his ragged breath. You tried to picture him, his hands clutching hard on the edge of a chair, table, anything as he tried to keep in his desperate voice. “Why?” You asked, and this time he was the one that was silent. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you wanted to ‘see’ him again too. Your body was already aching for him, for the way he had made you feel. “I... I want you to touch me again.” You admitted. He sighed on the line, cursing a low “fuck”. “You drive me crazy.” He let out, and you felt it shoot straight to your core. The idea of you... Driving such a man... Powerful man, crazy. “I’ll arrange for us to meet again next week.” He then resumed his serious almost professional voice. “Wait for the text.” “Yes, Sir.” You almost whined on the phone. “Good girl, go to bed.” The praise made you whine and then he hung up. Leaving you submissive and messy for a complete stranger. You couldn’t believe you were going to do this again, but at the same time, you were looking forward to it. To your surprise, you shut your laptop and did exactly what he had told you to do. And you closed your eyes, dreaming of the voice you so ever wanted to hear again.

Friday came and you couldn’t help but feel like you were in a good mood. You had finished your classes and even written a little more of your essay. Then, you were in Malia’s door watching her yet again go through her clothes for another night of partying. You felt like you could use a little alcohol and you most certainly wanted to get your mind off things. So once again, Malia gave you a large smile as she helped you chose an outfit.

You weren’t complaining. The way the dress hugged your curves felt nice and boosted your confidence. You decided to take a quick shower and used your vanilla-scented body wash, it was almost as if you wanted to keep remembering what had happened. Almost as if you were preparing for it. As you swayed to the music in the Uber, Malia made a face. “Seriously, what’s happening to you?” She asked, and you looked are her confused. “What do you mean?” “First you come to a party with me last week, then you’re at the frat house eye fucking the app boy, now you’re going again to a party with me, I’m pretty sure something’s up.” She finished. You avoided her eyes, knowing that if you tried lying to her face, she’d notice. “I just... I just want to have some fun.” You weren’t lying, you did want to have fun. And now that she mentioned the cute boy, your thoughts went to him. “Also, Jungkook is an introvert, I don’t think he likes to party.” You said simply. “Oh, you two are perfect for each other.” She laughed. You hit her arm and soon you both were arriving. The party was a bit more intimate. Not that it wasn’t full, it was, but only people you knew. The music was loud and most of the boys were in the living room, on the couch, some seated on the floor. As you and Malia walked in, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin greeted you. You smiled at the boys and soon you two were seated with them, drink in hand while you all talked about random things. As you looked around the room, observing the other people your eyes fell on the dark eyes looking at you from across the room. He was leaned against the wall, gray long-sleeved shirt that hugged his arms so nicely, his hair messy as he fumbled around with a drink in his hand. You gave him a short smile, but he just looked beside him, leaning off the wall and walking away. You couldn’t help but feel bad. It really felt like he didn’t like you. Maybe you were annoying. Maybe he knew you because of Yoongi and knew you were sort of a control freak. You shook your head. You were brought out of your thoughts when the music was boosted and everyone got up to dance in the low lit room, you hesitated, but Malia pulled you by the hand and soon you were moving your body, gulping down your drink in one go because tonight, you just wanted to lose a little of that so-called control. You moved gently at first, laughing while you saw your friend try to be sexy with Namjoon. He, of course, was already under her spell. You closed your eyes and started swaying your hips gently to the music; you felt good, lighter, calmer for once, lost in the moment and when you felt two hands land on your hips, you gently looked back to see a not so familiar face. You felt like pulling away from him, but he started swaying his hips with yours and you just felt like maybe having a dance partner would be nice. You looked back front again, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to dance. The boy leaned in your ear. “I’m Taehyung.” He introduced himself. His voice was so low and so sensual you felt your whole body shiver. You had a thing for voices now. “Y/N.” You replied. You felt him smile against your skin and you continued dancing with him. His body glued to yours as you both slowly and gently ground to the music. It was at the second song that you felt Taehyung shift and his body was further away. You stayed with your eyes closed, ready to complain when his body came back, this time just allowing you to move on your own. You opened your eyes, grabbing the drink from Malia’s hand and she looked back ready to complain when her eyes met the boy behind you, her eyebrows raised and she elbowed Namjoon, who looked rather surprised. You ignored the looks on their faces and continued slowly swaying your hips on the boys’ lap. He still wasn’t moving. Maybe he was just enjoying the way you moved. Soon, you started wanting him to move along and when you turned your body to say something; you froze. The dark eyes that looked back at you carried a lot. It was a mixture of irritation, frustration, and way at the back you saw it... Desire. You couldn’t speak. Now Malia and Namjoon’s surprised look made sense. You drank the rest of Malia’s drink and took a deep breath, throwing the cup and swinging your arms around the boy’s neck. He tensed up, but you were drunk enough to feel courage. You moved again, ignoring the way his body was hard as a rock in front of you. You whined low, leaning in his ear. “Jungkook... Dance with me.” You asked, and all he did was rais a hand and rest it on your waist. You felt electricity go through your body, you didn’t know why, but you wanted to make him show something. Say something. You continued moving, inching your body closer and closer to him, and soon, your breasts were touching his chest and you saw his jaw clench. You smirked. Yes, this is what you wanted, you wanted him to react. You started grinding your body into his, feeling how hot it was. His fingers gently squeezed and you let out a whimper. You were so sensitive these days and you didn’t know why. As you found yourself getting drunker and drunker you started grinding more sensually on him, your nipples feeling hard under the thin fabric of Malia’s dress. You rested your forehead on his chest, holding tighter around his neck. You felt his leg shift, moving in between your thighs and you started grinding over it, digging your nails into the back of his neck, that was enough incentive for him, and he brought his clothed thigh up to meet your core. You threw your head back, biting your lower lip as you started gently and slowly grinding on his tight, the fabric of your underwear giving you friction and soon you felt the familiar wetness between your legs, your closed your eyes again and rested your head on his shoulders, you felt him inhale and he let out the air in a shaky breath. You moaned, and he froze. You opened your eyes. He was looking at you, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling harder than before. You bit your lower lip... You wanted more. You knew he wanted more too. But as soon as you leaned in to kiss him he let go of you taking a few steps back. You felt your whole body hot, the ache in your core so prominent now. Fuck, you were so turned on. He looked at your figure, shook his head, and soon he was off. You watched as he walked towards the stairs, taking two steps at a time, almost as if he was in a rush. You put a hand on your face, trying to control your breath as you walked out of the living room, making your way to the bathroom, you needed to wash your face. You made a face when you saw there were at least two people waiting, so you decided to wait in line. What had just happened? You were dancing with the Taehyung boy, but then it wasn’t him, it was Jungkook. He let you dance with him... Well, on him. Then... You started to ride his tight and he... Let you. You shook your head again. What was happening to you? You were never this shameless before. Still, you felt so turned on you urgently needed to calm yourself down. Ten minutes went by and as you looked down at the floor, arms crossed with your purse in hand you were poked and looked up. It was the Taehyung boy. “Guess we got interrupted.” He said with a smirk on his face. You were turned on and honestly, Taehyung was hot as fuck and clearly interested so you smiled at him. “Would you like to continue from where we stopped?” You bit your lower lip, already feeling the hotness between your legs again. You were about to answer when your phone vibrated. Text From Unknown Number You felt your heart race, ignoring the boy in front of you completely. Unlocking your phone, you opened the text message. “I want to see you, now.” You felt your body tremble. You were already so turned on, just the idea of the stranger giving you so much pleasure like last time made you start typing. “I’m not home.” You waited for a reply. But realized it seemed like you were turning him down. You shared your location with him. “Can he pick me up here?” You asked, and a few seconds later you saw his reply. “Ten minutes, don’t be late. Room 55. Don’t bother washing up.” You smiled at the text. Locking your phone and putting it in your purse, you only then noticed that Taehyung was still in front of you. “Oh, I’m sorry, I... Something came up.” You said and smiled softly to him, going to Malia and telling her you were going home. She nodded, didn’t even bother asking questions. And soon enough, you were in front of the frat house, waiting on the black SUV that not too long after was stopping in front of you. You got in the car this time with no hesitation whatsoever, and you were already anticipating what was going to happen. All the way there you felt the uncomfortable heat between your legs grow, Jungkook had already gotten you worked, for a brief second you wondered if the Stranger would notice. Soon, you were stopping in front of the hotel, not even bothering to wait for the busboy, and made your way to the reception, giving your name and grabbing the key. You made your way up to the room, and much different from before, the room wasn’t lit up with candles. You already felt the raw intentions of the stranger. You stripped from your clothes and looked around. There was no blindfold. You felt your heart race; you didn’t want to irritate him, so you sat on the edge of the bed and closed your eyes, waiting. Soon, you heard the door and all of your senses once again were on edge. You didn’t wait to hear his footsteps, instead; you spoke up. “I- I didn’t find the blindfold, but my eyes are c-closed” You heard him approach you slowly, anticipation running through your veins. Then you felt the piece of fabric cover your eyes as he tied it firmly behind your head. “Such an obedient girl.” His voice was overflowing with lust, so much more than last time. Just as you expected. His voice was low and raspy, but firm and confident. It made all the hairs on your body stand. “Up.” He said, and you stood. “So beautiful.” He whispered, and you felt like you could barely hold yourself up. You heard him move, the sound of fabric falling to the floor, and you knew he was undressing. He walked away from you, coming back and turning you around gently, with a hand placed on your waist. You felt him tying your hands behind your back and every little touch he gave you made your body jolt. Jesus, you were so turned on you could barely think. He sat down on the bed and moved you in front of him. This was different from last time. He pulled you with him and you both crawled to the back of the bed, his back resting on the headrest. “Come here.” He said gently, and you moved, him guiding you to sit on top of his thigh. It was a happy coincidence. It was maybe too much of a happy coincidence. When you sat down on his thigh, you felt yourself clench around nothing. The sensation of your bare core on his bare thigh was overwhelming. “Ride me, sweetheart.” He asked, moving your hips with his hand. “Y-yes, sir.” You obliged, rocking your hips slowly and already feeling the friction. “Fuck, you’re already soaking wet, sweetheart.” He noticed while you whimpered low against him. “Have you been a dirty girl?” His dirty talk was gentle, but it was enough to make you go crazy, just the sound of his voice was enough to make you go crazy. “I... I danced with a boy, Sir.” You admitted, feeling your cheeks flushed as you moaned feeling how good your clit rubbed against his skin. “A boy? Was he the one that got you wet like this?” He asked with a dark tone to his voice, almost dangerous. You nodded, you couldn’t lie. Jungkook had gotten you soaking with just a little of friction. “What’s his name, sweetheart?” He asked, and you felt yourself rocking your hips faster and harder against him. “J-Jung...” You moaned, feeling yourself approach you first high of the night. “Oh god...” You whined out. “Huh? I didn’t get that, baby, say it again.” It was like he was teasing you, his hands gripping harder on your hips, and clenching his muscle to apply more pressure. “Jungkook! Oh fuck... His name is Jungkook.” You moaned as you felt yourself closer and closer. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, chocking you slightly, and that only made you feel more pleasure. “Cum on my thigh like the dirty slut you are for me.” He said lower and your body obeyed. It hit you fast, maybe because you were already so worked up, you closed your legs around his thigh and he held onto you. You came on his bare thigh, your arousal smudging all over him. You moaned loud as you came and he helped you ride it out, you rested your head on his shoulder and tried to control your breathing. You felt his hands caress your back, going up and down, and it gave you shivers. You shifted your head so your forehead was against his. You could smell his breath. “You were drinking alcohol...” You said, clearly smelling it on his breath. “I could say the same to you, sweetheart.” And you remembered you were still a little drunk from the party. “Sir?” You asked, and he just hummed. Keeping you still on top of him. He was strong. “I.. I want to kiss you.” You said so low, in almost a whisper. He stopped, his hand on your back. You didn’t know if you offended him; you felt your cheeks burning from embarrassment. You were too bold today. “I’m sorry.” Was all he answered and then he guided you off his lap, untying your hands and laying you down next to him. You heard him get up and start putting his clothes on. “W-wait…” You pleaded, and you heard him stop. “Don’t leave... Please?” For a second you thought he would come back to bed and lay down with you, but you heard him finish buckling his belt and rush out the door. You took off the blindfold. Sighing and getting up, putting on the tight dress and just sitting back down on the bed. You rubbed your face, feeling a tight feeling in your chest. Soon, you heard your phone vibrate, and you walked over to it, opening the text without reading. “Next Friday, 19h, Room 55.” You scoffed. He had just left and yet he was already scheduling your next... What was it... Session? You grabbed your heels and made your way out, already irritated. You got in bed that night looking at your phone and hoping he would call. You just wanted to hear his voice again. You were becoming so very addicted to it. But when sleep came and your phone didn’t ring, you felt disappointed.

You once again tried to distract yourself, only this time you told yourself you’d be more in control. You went back to your routine, focusing on your papers and essay, going about your life without thinking about the things that happened on Friday. On Thursday you went back to the class you were taking and once again, Namjoon sat beside you.

“So...” He started off. “You went home pretty early on Friday.” He pointed out, and even though you were trying to forget what had happened, life seemed to have other plans for you. “Yeah... Something came up.” You lied. “Taehyung didn’t stop asking about you after you left, he seemed pretty hooked.” You furrowed your brows, remembering the boy who had danced with you briefly before Jungkook had taken his place. “Oh, yeah, he seemed nice, and I just left him hanging.” You said faintly, now roaming your eyes around the room for the familiar quiet boy. It was Namjoon that nudged your side and made you notice him standing right next to you. You looked up at the dark eyes looking straight back at you, almost feeling embarrassed for have being caught looking for him. “Hello, J-Jungkook.” You said feeling flustered. The memory of you two dancing together almost smashing into you. What if he was there to yell at you for the way you acted... Worse, what if he wanted to sue you? He was silent as usual, but soon he took a deep breath and spoke. “I wanted to apologize for Friday.”. His voice was insecure but direct. You felt your cheeks heat up, looking down to the boys’ feet. “It’s ok... I-I should be the one apologizing.” You admitted. “Have coffee with me, after class.” You looked up at him again, feeling your mouth dry. It wasn’t a request. But then again, you didn’t feel like saying no in the first place. “O-ok.” He nodded in Namjoon’s direction, then walked to his usual place. You watched him the entire time. Wondering why you were so eager to see him again. “I guess you have two of the boys hooked on you,” Namjoon said with humor in his voice. You waited at the end of class, with your bag clutched in your arms. You were nervous. You didn’t know why Jungkook wanted to have coffee with you, maybe he wanted to explain why he walked away. Or why he took Taehyung’s place. You were questioning everything again, already worried with so much. But as soon as he came out of the class and stopped next to you, he was the center of your attention. You walked with him to the coffee shop in ultimate silence. His presence was so intimidating, and yet you felt drawn to it. As soon as you both sat down in the booth, he stared deep into your eyes. You couldn’t hold his gaze for long. Avoiding it briefly before the waitress came and served you two hot coffee. “Why are you taking that class?” He asked. His voice was so comforting it made you relax again. “I started my final essay, and I wanted to take that class. I only have to take it next year, but I thought it would be good to prepare for it, even though I don’t understand a thing.” “That’s smart.” He said, and you hummed. Nodding your head. “Why are you going to school here?” You asked, and that made him lift his eyebrows. “I mean... Namjoon told me you’re a genius, sold an app to the government and you’re rich and shit... Why go to school here, why not Harvard or something?” You looked down at your coffee, taking a sip. “Genius... I’m no genius.” He said with a frustrated tone to his words. “I already graduated in computer science in Standford when I was 18, I’m taking on something new, wanted to have the college experience.” He said drinking his coffee. Your mouth almost dropped. He graduated Stanford when he was 18? He really was a genius. “I... Wow.” You said, and you saw him feel slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’d have the courage to go back to college for a second major... It’s so out of my plans.” You admitted. “And what are your plans?” He asked. And there it was again, that feeling that you knew him from somewhere. That you two had met before. You brushed it off, trying to maintain the conversation. This was a lot more than you had last time. “Finish college, work in my area... I wanted to get married when I was 28, but... That seems very far away.” You smiled, feeling silly. “It’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid.” He said. You looked up at him. His eyes were a lot softer than the usual. “Yoongi... You two are from the same frat... He was my boyfriend. I made those plans with him, but as you can tell, we’re not together anymore.” You didn’t know why you were telling him, you assumed he knew you were Yoongi’s ex, but still maybe you were being inconvenient. “He’s not good for you,” Jungkook said with seriousness to his voice. Silence installed between the two of you again, and this time it was your fault. Talking about Yoongi while you were seated across from a boy that had so much effect on you while thinking about a stranger that had so much power over your body was just the rock bottom of your sexual confusion. “I can help you with the class.” He offered, and it took you out of your thoughts, making you look up at him with a surprised look. “How?” “We can meet here every Thursday after class, I’ll help you, share my notes so you can be more prepared for next year.” That brought a smile to your lips. A genuine and sincere one. You felt happy that someone understood you at least a little and was willing to help. “Yeah... That’d be nice.” You couldn’t contain the smile on your face. After you talked about your mother and how she had made plans for you ever since you were a kid, eventually, you both finished your coffee, Jungkook had already paid before you even had the chance to get your money and you were both standing outside the coffee place, awkwardly standing next to each other. “So, that was nice.” You said with a soft smile on your lips. “Yeah, it was.” He agreed and for the first time you saw him smile. It was brief, but it was enough to make your heart flutter. You waved goodbye to him and turned your back, walking towards your apartment. It was the first time in so long that you felt normal. Just... A normal girl getting coffee with a cute guy. A cute guy that was very, very smart and rich, but still, you felt good. You got home, and the smile was still plastered on your face and of course, Malia didn’t let that go by unnoticed. “Who is it?” She asked as soon as you put your bag down on the living room floor. “What are you talking about?” You shook your head at her. “Oh, come on! Last time you got home smiling like that, Yoongi had first lent you his pencil.” You rolled your eyes. “I just grabbed coffee with Jungkook, that’s all.” You walked towards your room, taking your jacket off. “Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, the quiet boy?” She asked, and you nodded. “What about Yoongi?” You shrugged. “What about him?” “Well, weren’t you the one that wanted to get married to him and all that crap you believe in?” You felt uncomfortable. “Malia, it’s not crap stuff, it’s just how I like to live.” You tried defending yourself. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “So, is Jungkook your next target?” And you looked at her, feeling offended. “I don’t have any ‘targets’ Jungkook is a nice guy, he’s going to help me get familiar with class for next year.” “Sound more like get familiar with his dick.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You threw a pillow at her, and she laughed, walking towards the kitchen. Later at night, you had completely forgotten about your appointment for the next day. And when your phone rang, you answered it without even checking the caller. “Hello?” You answered with a calm voice. “Still up, sweetheart?” At first, you felt the familiar shiver run down your spine, but then you felt slightly irritated. “As you can tell... Sir.” You answered boldly. “Oh, getting brave I see.” He said with amusement in his voice. “Well, maybe I’m tired of being left in the dark.” You played with words. He was silent. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow?” He asked, trying to avoid your last comment. “Depends...” You said, and he waited for you to go on. “Are you not going to fuck me?” You asked, a smirk on your lips, you heard him hiss with the bold choice of words. “Am I not pleasing you enough, sweetheart?” You could tell he liked this teasing game. “Oh no, Sir, don’t get me wrong...“ You rolled over on your bed. “I just really wanted a chance to clench and cum around your hard cock.” You were surprised at yourself for the way you were speaking. “Fuck... “ He said nice and loud this time. “You’re getting dirty, sweetheart”. “Maybe I was always dirty, Sir.” You teased. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said with what you could understand was a smirk on his lips. “Wish I could say the same.” You laughed. “Goodnight”. You hung up the phone, getting ready for bed. A few moments later your phone vibrated, and you smiled, already shaking your head. Unknown Number. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.

#jungkook #jk #jeon #bts #imagine #fanfic #fic #smut #mature #scenario #reader #ocs #blindfold #blindfoldfic #btssmutclub #smutcentralnet

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ad1thi · 6 years ago

Text

just friends(?) P2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The pain comes in waves.

The very first week after the text (Sam was calling it Textgate which would’ve been hilarious if it didn’t hurt so much) Steve calls endlessly.

Every single minute he’s off from work or not working on his graduate portfolio, Steve is calling and texting and on one memorable occasion, writing a letter.

He’s desperate for any chance of talking to Tony.

(the calls and text go unanswered)

(the letter comes back undelivered)

After 2 weeks of radio silence, Steve shows up at Stark Industries, in his best fitting suit (the one Tony looked at, whistled lowly and said “you look lick-able Rogers”) and meets a stony faced Virginia.

‘Virginia hi is there -”

“It’s Ms Potts,” she interrupts smoothly, “and I’m under strict instructions from Mr Stark to turn you away.”

He’d forgotten that Virginia worked for Tony.

“Virg- Ms Potts please. I just need 5 minutes. I just need to explain myself please.”

He’s not above begging.

“Leave Mr Rogers,” she says before spinning on her heel, “Or I will have security escort you out.”

He’s frozen, immovable, stranded in the depths of his guilt and self loathing.

(he isn’t quite sure he deserves to get out)

He goes into the NYU art department, to fill out the application since he needed to start looking for a new patron now.

“Mr. Stark is still listed as your patron,” the clerk says with a very confused face, “He sent in a lump sum just a few days ago. Should I call him and inform him that you’re no longer interested in his patronage?”

“NO!” Steve says (a bit too loudly by the rise of the clerk’s eyebrow) and then lowers his voice, “No I’m very interested in his patronage. I just didn’t realise I had it, is all.”

“Look Mr. Rogers I’ve been working this desk for a long time, and I know you artist types can be,” he pauses delicately, “forgetful.”

He scribbles something, “Here’s Mr. Stark's office number. I’m a very busy person, so maybe figure out what your situation is before you come and bother me.”

Steve barely remembers to thank the clerk and apologize, focusing on that feeling in his chest that feels suspiciously like hope.

He takes another 5 days before he dials the number, putting his phone on speaker and holding it close to his mouth.

It rings and rings and rings and finally,

“Stark on the line,”

Tony.

God he sounds, he sounds exactly the same (Steve has no idea why he expected Tony’s voice to change in 2 months when it hasn’t in 5 years)

“Hello?” Steve can hear the slight inflection in Tony’s voice that means he’s getting annoyed but he can’t seem to get his throat to work; too focused on the fact that he’s hearing Tony’s voice after 2 months.

“Alright look I don’t know what kind of practical joke you seem to think this is but I am a billionaire and I have better things to do then -”

“Tony, it’s me, it’s Steve.”

“Steve,” Tony’s voice is carefully blank and Steve thinks his heart might break all over again.

“How did you get this number?” In all the years he’s known him, he’s never heard Tony talk like this- like he’s talking to an automated machine.

“I uh, the clerk at the patron office gave it to me. I went it to file for a new patron but apparently you sent in money a few days ago?”

Tony laughs and its so dark, it pierces through Steve, “your career is fine Rogers. If thats all?”

He cuts the line before Steve has a chance to answer, to apologize.

And Steve presses his hand against his chest, and lets the tears fall.

(he was right)

(his heart did break all over again)

Sam comes to visit him, which is when things start to fall in perspective.

“Out!” Sam kicks him in the chins, “get out of the bed you miserable lug.”

(never let it be said that Sam pulls his punches)

“You’re not the only one hurting you know,” Sam says once Steve has showered and cooked him (him being Sam) a batch of pancakes (under extreme duress).

“I mean, I know you know that Tony is hurting. But this isn’t easy for me and Bucky either.”

oh my god Bucky.

“Hey he doesn’t blame you,” something must show on Steve’s face because Sam backtracks immediately, “he gets it. We all do,” he grimaces slightly. “James and Pepper don’t- but we’re working on them.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, “I hurt Tony. There’s no way they’re going to forgive them.”

(I don’t expect them too, he leaves out)

“Look they know you didn’t mean to, and its only because your dumbass was in love with Tony,” Steve chokes on his orange juice, “and if I can convince James to date me, I can do anything.”

“Wait hold up backtrack a bit, you knew?”

“Yeah Steve, everyone knew,” Sam counts off fingers, “Me, James, Pepper, hell even Bucky knew.”

Sam places his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “The only person who didn’t know was Tony. And as harsh as it sounds, Bucky got tired of waiting for you to fess up, and got tired of ignoring his own emotions.”

Steve slumps against his seat, “Buck- Buck knew?”

“I’m not trying to hurt you Steve, because I know you love Tony. But Bucky is your bestfriend of 20 years man, friendships like that don’t come easy. Maybe you need to consider that Tony’s not the only person you need to be reaching out too.”

The next day he texts Bucky.

Steve gets up from his seat, and is suddenly unsure of whether he’s supposed to pull Bucky in for a hug the way he usually does, or just shake his hand like they’re acquaintances.

Bucky solves his dilemma by pulling him into a tight hug, and it fixes something inside of him that he didn’t know was broken.

“Its good to see you man,” Bucky says, lifting up his mug to take a sip of his coffee, “It’s weird not talking to you for 3 months.”

“Thats what happens when your bestfriend is dating the guy you love” just because Steve missed Bucky doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt.

Bucky places his mug down, “I see we’re not beating around the bush”

“In the effort of full disclosure, I did genuinely believe you when you told me that it was platonic.”

“But I saw how much it was killing you, me and Tony together and I tried to break it off remember?”

Steve remembers. Tony’s downcast eyes and the way he would turn in himself everytime he and Bucky were in the same room.

Bucky points at him,” and you pushed for me to get back together with him. Remember that? I said no over and over but you just wouldn’t let it go,” he spreads out his arms, “and I was half in love with him myself by that point. After a while I couldn’t convince myself that it was for the best because you weren’t ever gonna fess up to your feelings.”

Steve would’ve done anything to get Tony to smile like that again, even if it meant thrusting Bucky at him.

“Look Steve you’re my family you know that,” Bucky takes in a deep breath, “But I was miserable, you were miserable, and so was Tony. It didn’t make sense for all of us to be miserable, especially since you were never going to tell Tony how you felt. And you kept throwing me at him like I -”

“I just wanted to be happy Steve, thats all. I never wanted it to be at the expense of your happiness, and I tried to back away I did. But for fuck’s sake Steve you wouldn’t even tell me how you felt and I just- I didn’t see any point in all of us being miserable is all.”

“You really do make him happy,” Steve says finally, “I was his friend for 5 years and I’ve never seen him smile the way he does around you.”

Bucky smiles, but there’s something broken about it, “yeah well, doesn’t really matter anymore; because we broke up a few weeks ago.”

and, oh.

It’s weird, hanging out with Bucky with this thing hanging over their heads.

It’s hard being his bestfriend when Bucky knows that Steve is happy that Bucky and Tony broke up.

But they manage.

and while it doesn’t fix Steve’s heart, it does make his life calmer.

(his life is always calmer with Bucky around)

It all comes to a head about 6 months later.

Steve’s in his usual coffee shop, which is just a few blocks away from Stark Industries so it genuinely shouldn’t be a surprise.

but he still feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him when he looks up from his sketchbook and sees,

Tony

(who’s frozen from his place in line, looking directly at him)

tbc

tag list: @honeybearrhodey, @rogers-stark45, @tried-our-best, @kirouskasa, @fincaffeinaddict, @endlesslove1084, @imaginestevetony

reblog (i check the tags) or comment if you wanna be tagged in p3

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perspective-series · 5 years ago

Text

Switched Perspective (19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma, Mention of death/almost killing someone, Arguing, and Guilt

(Check the reblog for the links to the previous chapters and the prequel!)

This is a sequel to A Third Perspective! Read that first or you will be confused!

(Totally didn’t forget to post this yesterday...)

_______________

Virgil entered back into Logan’s apartment with Roman in hand, seeing Logan and Patton already in the living room. He smiled at Patton but avoided eye contact with Logan. Things might have gone well with Roman, but Logan was an entirely different story.

He looked around the room. “Where’s Thomas?”

“Oh, I’m in here!” Thomas popped in briefly from the kitchen. “I figured I’d make everyone dinner while you were busy working out your feelings.” He dried his hands on a small towel. “So, how’d it go?”

“Wonderfully!” Roman said enthusiastically.

“Satisfactory,” Logan said, less enthusiastically.

“It was...good. Really good, I think.” Virgil said.

“Amazing!” Patton exclaimed, even more enthusiastic than Roman.

“See? I knew you could do it!” Thomas began looking between them. “So, who’s next?”

“I want to talk to Virgil next,” Patton said, causing Virgil to worry. Virgil could guess where this was going.

“I suppose I can talk to Logan, then.” Roman offered.

“Oh, you suppose?” Logan muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. Thankfully no one seemed to hear him.

“Okay, well how about you two just talk out here?” Thomas offered, gesturing to the coffee table where Logan already stood. “Then Patton and Virgil, you two can take Logan’s bedroom.”

Virgil nodded. “Alright.” He put Roman on the coffee table before following Patton into the bedroom.

Virgil stood awkwardly in the middle of the bedroom as Patton shut the door behind him. His friend then came over to stand in front of him, crossing his arms. Virgil found himself receiving the disappointed look from before. “I’m really sorry Pat, I-”

“I know Virgil.” Patton cut him off, dropping his hands to his sides and looking at Virgil sadly. “I know. I know you and I know you regret it, right?”

Virgil nodded furiously. “Yes, I do, so much.” Virgil’s earlier self-deprecation and thoughts came back to him and tears welled up in his eyes. “I-I almost killed them, Pat.”

“Oh kiddo.” Patton came forward and captured Virgil in a hug, holding him tight. “Shh, it’s alright. The important thing to remember is you didn’t kill anyone, okay?” Virgil sniffed against Patton’s shoulder.

“You sound like Roman.” Virgil let out a watery chuckle. Patton, for his part, looked intrigued.

“Oh?” He had to assume Roman and Virgil were friends now, with how they responded to Thomas before, but he wanted to know what happened exactly. Virgil nodded.

“Yeah, he...forgives me. Told me not to worry about it and that I’m only a bad human because I was never meant to be human.” Patton hummed, nodding.

“Sounds right to me,” Patton said and pulled away a little to be able to see Virgil. “Look kiddo, we’re already friends, so this talk isn’t about that. And I forgive you for everything as well, but…” Patton sighed. “I’m sure you know.”

“Logan.” Virgil sighed and Patton nodded.

“Yeah. I already talked to him about you. And I asked him to at least hear you out about things. So I’m going to ask the same to you, okay? I know what Logan did to you, to us, was wrong. But Logan knows that now, and he’s apologized.”

“I-I know,” Virgil said after a moment of hesitation. Patton looked at him.

“Virgil, both of you are feeling some of the same things right now. I can tell. You both regret what you did but you’re not sure if you can forgive the other for what they’ve done.” Virgil’s eyes went wide, that’s exactly how he felt. Even though he regretted his actions and didn’t feel like Logan deserved them, he was still...upset at Logan for everything he did before.

But Patton was right, as always. They were in the same boat here, and if he wanted Logan to forgive him, he needed to work on forgiving Logan.

“I’ll try, I promise,” Virgil said and Patton grinned.

“Good. I’m proud of you kiddo.” They hugged again before pulling away fully this time. They stood there for a moment.

“Should we...go back out now?” Virgil asked, motioning towards the door. Patton chuckled.

“Something tells me they aren’t done yet. We should probably wait for Thomas to come to get us.” Virgil nodded, looking around the room.

“So, whatcha wanna do until then?” Patton thought for a moment, before snapping his fingers.

“Oh! I never got to really tell you about my trip out with Thomas! It was great, okay, so, we get in his car, right? And then-” Virgil took a seat on the bed, listening to Patton speak with a smile on his face as they both waited to be called back.

***

Thomas waved goodbye to the borrowers, heading back into the kitchen. The two looked at each other, not sure what to say.

“Sooo…” Roman tried to start off the same way he had with Virgil, but Logan cut him off.

“Don’t.” Logan shook his head, turning away.

“Wha- don’t?!” Roman looked offended, jogging over to where Logan stood so the nerd couldn’t ignore him. “Excuse me, did you just tell me to shut up? Did you forget the whole point of this?”

“We’re neighbors, not friends,” Logan said, putting a hand on Roman and gently pushing him away to keep the prep from invading his personal bubble.

“Yeah, but we have to become friends to appease the writer witches, remember?” Roman reminded him.

“That whole idea was preposterous to begin with.” Logan pushed up his glasses. “While I had no problem strengthening my relationship with Patton, I see no reason to do the same for you or...Virgil.”

“Okay, Virgil, I get.” Roman put his hands up in surrender, knowing Logan was still traumatized. “But why not me? What have I done?”

“Oh, where do I begin.” Logan looked too gleeful for someone about to list off negative traits about his fellow human. “For starters, the very first interaction the two of us have ever had in person was you running into me and harming our respective borrowers, as well as myself, in the process.”

“That was an accident-!” Roman tried to protest.

“Ah ah ah, I wasn’t finished.” Logan waved his finger back and forth. “Even before I met you I disliked you. Frankly, you don’t even make a good neighbor. You’re rude with how loudly you blare your ‘tunes’ and disrespectful in keeping me awake late into the night. I haven’t had a good night’s rest since you moved in.”

“You never even tried to talk to me about this,” Roman argued.

“I left many strongly worded letters in your post box,” Logan informed him. “But after a period of time, it became clear that receptacle was never checked.”

“So what, you won’t be my friend because I forget to check my mail?” Roman crossed his arms. “Really?”

“Hardly.” Logan was far from finished. “Let us fast forward to after that incident. I learn you traumatized Patton,-”

“I already apologized to him for that.”

“-break into my apartment, repeatedly insult me, and then insist that I’m a villain for trying to protect my friend.” Logan ignored Roman’s outburst.

“I didn’t call you a villain for trying to ‘protect’ Patton.” Roman huffed, getting annoyed. “I called you a villain because you were trying to keep two people captive. Again.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Then let’s fast forward to today, shall we? When you repeatedly took Virgil’s side despite the fact that he was actively trying to torture me.”

“I wasn’t on Virgil’s side, I was on your side.” Roman insisted. “I came to rescue you. That’s why I climbed off this table to go after Virgil!”

“Oh really?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you insist I didn’t tell Patton? Why’d you insist I lie and hide the nature of my injuries? What possible benefit could that have for me?”

“I was trying to keep everything civil,” Roman argued. “I wanted to keep the peace between everyone. I thought Patton deserved some happiness, and I thought Virgil deserved a chance to ...change.”

“Yes, and that worked out so well.” Logan sneered. “I almost died because of your foolish redemption thoughts. Next time, leave the thinking to those of us with a brain.”

“Hey!” Roman knew Logan had every right to be angry at him, but that was just rude. “You weren’t innocent as a human, either.”

“I didn’t dangle anyone off a building.” Logan hissed, looking extremely tense as he began to shake.

“Okay, yes, fair enough.” Roman backed up a few steps, giving Logan space. “You didn’t do that. But I talked to Virgil, and he knows he screwed up. Big time.”

“Stop saying that!” Logan pulled at his hair slightly, tears forming in his eyes. “Stop talking about him like he’s changed or or like he’s not just waiting in there to be alone with me again and- and-”

“Logan!” Roman rushed over, rubbing at Logan’s shoulders comfortingly. A few tears began to fall from the nerd’s face, but Roman tactfully ignored them as he pulled Logan into a hug. Roman began rubbing circles into Logan’s back.

“Logan,” Roman said firmly. “Virgil is not going to kill you. Patton and I will stay in the apartment, okay? Thomas is here, too. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I-I know.” Logan winced, hearing a hiccup come out with his words. He hated appearing weak, but at least Roman wasn’t mocking him for it like Logan would have expected. “Logically, it makes...sense. Virgil won’t try anything with everyone around.”

“...but?” Roman prompted.

“But…” Logan sighed, pulling away from the hug to take a seat on the wooden surface. He pulled his knees to his chest. “It’s just...difficult not to feel afraid of impossibilities at this size.”

“I know what you mean.” Roman sat down beside him. “I have been scared soooo many times today. By Virgil, by Patton...and by a certain giant rat.”

“That thing was atrocious.” Logan shuddered.

“Yeah…” Roman paused, finding the timing right to ask a question he had been wondering ever since that incident. “Hey Logan, why did you save me from that thing, anyways?”

“It was the right thing to do.” Logan shrugged.

“Well, that doesn’t seem like a very ‘you’ answer.” Roman teased.

“I haven’t been feeling very ‘me’ today,” Logan admitted. “Although I suppose that’s the problem, I’ve been feeling far too much today. It’s exhausting.”

“Does that include feelings...for me?” Roman said hopefully. “Because, y’know, logically, I think saving someone from a giant rat is less of a neighborly thing and more of a...friendly thing?”

Logan chuckled. “I suppose it...could be classified as such an act, yes.”

“And does that mean we’re friends?” Roman leaned very close to Logan, eyes sparkling.

“Ah, not quite.” Logan pushed him back. “I still have one last question for you.”

“Go ahead, bestie.” Roman winked, elbowing him lightly.

“...Why do you hate me?” Logan asked, looking down at his lap.

“Wait, what?” Roman frowned, leaning back slightly. “I’m trying to make you one of my best friends, why on earth would I hate you?”

“Back when Virgil was trying to scare me,” Logan winced, “the first time, he asked you for one good reason to not hate me. And you…” Logan looked at his hands, clenching them into fists. “...you came up with nothing.”

“...oh.” Roman suddenly remembered that he did, in fact, say that.

“All you could think to say was that I’m manipulative, selfish, and generally unpleasant to be around.” Logan gritted his teeth. “But now that some old piece of paper says we’ll be human again if we’re ‘best friends’, you’re suddenly acting all buddy-buddy.”

“Logan…” Roman sighed. “I only said those things because I was trying to say what I thought would make Virgil listen. Anything good I said about you wouldn’t have been good enough for him, he’d just shoot it down.”

“What, so you weren’t even willing to try?” Logan scoffed.

“I pandered to my audience,” Roman admitted. “I talked about you in a way that I thought would make Virgil agree so that he’d see my point. I was trying to protect you.”

“Well, you have a funny way of showing that.” Logan pointed out.

“Okay, fair enough.” Roman conceded. “But you do have to admit that, before, you were all of those things.”

“I was not ‘generally unpleasant to be around’!” Logan said in a huff.

“That one was harsh!” Roman put his hands up in defeat. “I’ll admit, not my best work. I could have phrased it better. But you were, in the beginning, cruel to both of our borrower friends.”

“But you’ve changed.” Roman continued. “You’re not those things anymore. I know we haven’t spent much time together, but we’ve had our share of good moments. And you’re clearly listening to others, being empathetic, and using your knowledge for good. You’ve made a terrific borrower.”

“...I do try.” Logan adjusted his glasses.

“And you saved me.” Roman reminded him. “Despite the fact you thought I hated your guts, you saved me. You really did do it just because it was the right thing, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Logan said. “After all, I don’t lie.”

“Logan, I’m...I’m sorry.” Roman apologized. “I’m sorry I ever called you the bad guy. You’re a good person.”

Logan looked over at him. “Really?”

“Really.” Roman nodded. “You’re a good person, who deserves a decent sleep schedule. So I’m sorry about my music, too, and when everything switches back I promise to fix that.”

“And I shall promise to approach you with my problems rather than allowing them to accumulate in your mailbox,” Logan promised.

Roman stuck out his pinkie, wanting to make it official.

“Really, Roman?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “We’re not twelve.”

“C’mon, I want to make it official.” Roman gave a small whine. “Besides, I’ve kind of got a thing going right now.”

“Fine.” Logan entwined his pinkie with Roman’s.

“Excellent!” Roman stood up, offering Logan a hand to help him stand. “Friends?”

“Friends,” Logan confirmed, taking Roman’s offer. He wasn’t sure exactly what a friendship with Roman would look like, but Logan was at least willing to find out.

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melonkooky · 6 years ago

Text

butterflies [kim taehyung]

requested

word count: 3869

genre: fluff, highschool!au

author’s note: ahh this was so cute and fun to write. i also did not run through to check for spelling or anything so sorry about that. prompts: 16. “you know i’d do anything for you.” 17. “are you hurt?”

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

kim taehyung was one of the most popular boys at school, or rather he was the most popular boy at school. he was part of a known group of friends who deemed themselves bts. a few years ago, when their youngest member jungkook joined their little group, they claimed that their name stood for bulletproof boy scouts. people thought it was cool at the time, but now that everyone had grew and matured, it didn’t sound as cool now. so they changed it to beyond the scene, whatever that meant. perhaps it was secret between them, a little inside joke or special meaning. it didn’t really matter to you, however, because you never really had an interest in them, unlike every other student.

you were more on the quiet side, especially in your group of three friends. you were sweet and positive, and you didn’t understand the point of obsessing over the hottest boys in school. you more focused on your life, and getting through the school year. this year has taken its toll on you, that’s for sure.

the moment everything changed was when you were simply leaving the classroom after a long, dreadful lecture on why students should pay attention in class. well, it was hard to pay attention when the teacher’s voice was so enthusiastic and monotonous to the point where it could lure the entire room of students into a deep sleep. you stood up from your seat, thankful that mr. kim’s class was your last class of the day, so after that exhausting class you were free to go home. you stretched your legs and back before putting things into your backpack, swinging it onto your shoulders. you were the last one to leave the class unfortunately, because you were taking your time.

just as you were walking towards the door, it flew open. luckily the door wasn’t metal, and it wasn’t too thick either. but it still hit your right in the face, specifically your nose. you let out a pained squeal, your hands flying up to your nose as you felt something wet trickle down your nose. your nose ached, causing tears to spring in your eyes.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” you heard a rather deep voice squeal in surprise. “i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there. are you hurt?”

as you cupped your nose, you felt warm hands gingerly touch your own hands. you forced yourself to bear with the pain and pried open your eyes, finding a familiar boy standing in front of you. he was taller than you, slightly surprising you. but you guess that only seeing him from afar has caused you to misjudge his height. you stared into his dark, worried eyes, as he frantically tried to think of a way to help you. “o-oh.” was all you managed to squeak out.

“tilt your head forward, don’t tilt it back.” he instructed.

you hesitated before following his instruction. you have never had a nosebleed before, but kim taehyung must have or have experienced someone else with one if he knew the procedure for it. he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, “let’s take you to the bathroom before it gets worse.”

taehyung led the way down the hall, making sure not to run into anybody. luckily, the hallways were clearing out as people started going home. taehyung led you to the girl’s restroom. he opened the door for you, but didn’t dare to go inside. you stared ahead, feeling your head begin to pound.

“get some tissues or something and hold it up to your nose. don’t forget to pinch the bridge of your nose.”

you followed his instructions, finding a paper towel from a dispenser and held it up to your nose. you gently pinched your nose, keeping your head tilted forward. “like this?” you asked.

“yeah, now just hold it. it should stop shortly.”

you walked over to taehyung, a red tint forming in your cheeks. you sighed, which sounded quite nasally due to you pinching your nose. “thank you.”

he smiled sheepishly. “i feel so bad. i didn’t know someone was there. i’m so sorry.”

you laughed a bit. “it’s okay, really. it was just an accident.”

taehyung nodded, staring at you. “do you want me to stay with you or…” he paused.

you shrugged. “whatever you want to do.”

he blushed, “alright, i’ll stay here.”

after a few minutes, you checked to see if your nose as stopped bleeding. it had. you immediately threw away the bloodied napkin before thoroughly washing your hands with soap and water in the sink. once you were finished, you stepped outside, finding that taehyung was waiting for you. you were slightly shocked, and wondered why he was still here. “where’s your group of friends?” you asked, adjusting your backpack.

“they went ahead to some place to eat.”

you nodded. “why didn’t you go with them?”

he chuckled shyly. “i left my phone in that classroom.”

“ah,” you said understandingly. “well, i’ll help you look for it, since you helped me with my nose.”

taehyung nodded and began to walk to the classroom. you walked alongside of him. “does it hurt still?” he asked.

you shrugged. “not as bad as before.” you gingerly touched your nose. you looked at taehyung. “is it still red.”

taehyung winced a bit, before holding his hand up, the tip of his index finger close to touching his thumb, “just a bit.”

you and taehyung arrived at the classroom. he held up the door for you as you walked inside. “where’s your seat?” you asked him.

he pointed to the very back row, closest to the windows. “there.”

you walked over in that direction. taehyung wandered nearby as he searched the desks for his phone. you checked his desk, then bent down to look under his seat. you hummed, “i don’t see anything.”

taehyung was about to agree with you, until he did find his phone. “ah-ha!” you exclaimed.

you stood up and watched as he bent down and picked up his phone, holding it up. he laughed. “this is jimin’s seat. me and jimin compared out pinkies earlier and he got mad that his was so small, so i guess he thought stealing my phone would do him some good.”

you laughed. “such a petty move. and he then forgot that he did that.”

taehyung nodded. “well, thank you for helping.”

“of course, and thank you so much for helping me.”

“well, i’ll see you later then.”

you waved at taehyung as he slipped out of the classroom. you released a sigh as soon as he disappeared. “what a day.”

----

the next day, you walked into school. unfortunately, your nose still ached slightly and felt bruised from the accident yesterday. luckily for you, your nose looked normal, so you wouldn’t feel like a clown with a big red nose as you walked around.

you approached your two friends, “sup, ladies.”

they turned, “oh, y/n. are you okay?”

you stared at them questioningly. you hadn’t told them about yesterday. in fact you were planning on telling them soon, or now. “yeah, i’m fine.” you replied quite confused. “but how do you guys know? i haven’t told you anything yet.”

they laughed. “everyone knows about it. yesterday a few people saw taehyung helping you, even assisting you to the girl’s bathroom.”

they wiggled their eyebrows in a suggestive manner. you shook your head, rolling your eyes and turning around.

“wait, y/n.” sohee, one of your friends, called as you began to walk in the opposite direction.

you felt someone cling onto your arm. “we’re sorry, y/n.” minnie begged, “we didn’t mean to annoy you.”

she had raised her voice, trying to use the rather effective tactic of aegyo. you couldn’t help but smile. “nothing happened. i simply got a bloody nose. that’s all.”

“if you say so.” sohee replied.

you nodded. “i also helped him find his phone yesterday. but that’s it!”

minnie laughed.

as you walked in between sohee and minnie, you heard a loud sound of laughter. you turned out of curiosity to find bts under a tree right next to the school entrance. it was a spring day, so the weather was warm. they were probably under the tree for some shade before class started. however, you didn’t think anything of it. you saw them laughing with each other and messing around, and then continued to look at all the other students.

you truly loved spring. and with your friends on either side of you, you felt that today was a good day.

you felt sohee slap your arm excitedly. “y/n, y/n, y/n.” she repeated rapidly.

“what?”

you followed her gaze to find kim taehyung walking in your direction. you sighed, turning to sohee, “will you calm down please?”

honestly, you didn’t know how to act as taehyung walked towards you. was he even walking towards you. was there something or someone else behind you. you didn’t have to overthink for long, before taehyung was standing in front of you with a shy smile. “hey.” he greeted, looking at you with squinted eyes due to the bright shine of the sun ahead.

you felt minnie squeeze your arm. you wondered if you would lose circulation in a few minutes. “hey.” you replied.

“i was thinking just now, and i realized i didn’t catch your name.”

you blushed slightly. “o-oh.”

“we’re going to go one ahead and get to class.” minnie suddenly said.

“yeah, we’ll save you a seat.” sohee smiled before her and minnie left you alone with kim taehyung.

you laughed nervously. “they’re so weird.”

taehyung smiled. “so, what’s your name?”

“y-y/n.” why were you so nervous suddenly?

“y/n.” he repeated, which actually caused your stomach to flip nervously. why was he causing you to feel this way.

“you’re kim taehyung.” you said.

the smiley boy nodded. “yes, i am.”

you smiled and nodded, feeling a blanket of awkwardness fall over you and taehyung.

“how does your nose feel today?” he asked.

you shrugged. “it’s better, it still hurts though, more when i touch it.”

taehyung nodded. “i was thinking, do you want to hang out sometime?”

you felt your cheeks grow hot, and this time not from the sun. no, this wasn’t a sunburn. you were blushing. “you want to hangout with me?”

taehyung’s smile grew wider. his own cheeks were reddening. he was obviously as nervous as you. “yeah. i still feel bad about hitting you with the door.”

you laughed. “you don’t have to feel bad.” you paused, “but, i think that would be fun.”

his eyes lit up. “really?”

you nodded. taehyung grinned. “okay, can i have your number? that way i can text you later.”

you cleared your throat as you reached for your own phone. “y-yeah.”

so, you and taehyung exchanged phone numbers. afterwards, he hurried away, practically skipping over to the rest of his friends. you realized that they must have been watching the entire time, and suddenly you felt the need to scream and jump. you rushed inside to hide yourself from taehyung. you hurried into your first class, finding sohee and minnie immediately. “guys!” you yelled quite loudly.

you hurried over to them as they waited for you to sit next to them. “what happened?” minnie demanded.

you sunk down into your seat. you could feel the throbbing of you heart as it beat quite fastly. you felt the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. you took a deep breath, pausing for a dramatic effect. “i got his phone number.”

your friend squealed as they crushed you in a hug. “oh my god! y/n, you’re really changing. before, you didn’t care for any of those boys. but if i know any better, you are in love with one of them.” minnie explained.

you glared at her. “yah! we’re just friends.”

sohee narrowed her eyes, “really?”

you blushed. “although, i might be lying to myself…”

----

things between you and taehyung escalated from there. you and him learned a lot about each other. over a period of time, you and him grew closer.

right now, school was on break, meaning that there were two weeks of no school. you planned on hanging out with sohee and minnie, obviously. but most of your plans were with taehyung. he was a fun person in general, and he was naturally creative. he was always able to come up with something fun for you and him to do.

it was a few days into break. you were laying in your bed, fast asleep. or you were at least trying to sleep. your phone was going off like crazy. with a heavy sigh, you reached over and grabbed your phone, unplugging the device from the charger. with an annoyed sigh, you opened your phone and opened up the messaging app. soon enough, you found that all fifteen messages were from kim taehyung. seeing his name, you didn’t feel as annoyed. although it was a little excessive, you couldn’t help but laugh. all his messages were like ‘y/n’, ‘hey’, ‘are you awake?’. he was just trying to get your attention.

you typed, “i’m up.”

immediately, as soon as your message was marked as read, his name flashed on your screen as he called you. you shook your head, “this dork. hello.”

“y/n. are you busy today?”

you hummed in thought, mentally going through your day. “nope.” you replied.

taehyung yelled. “great! we’re going to the amusement park today.”

you smiled happily. “alright. what time do we plan on going?”

“uh, maybe later in the evening. let’s say five o’clock.”

“so late. what am supposed to do all day?” you joked.

taehyung laughed. “there’s lots of things you can do. i’m going to hang out with jungkook and jimin today.”

“oh, that sounds nice. so then i’ll see you at five?”

“yeah. i’ll pick you up.”

“okay, have fun.”

“i will. bye, y/n!”

you blushed, “bye, taehyung!” and you hung up.

you sighed. you were excited for the amusement park. you loved to go during the warmer seasons, and you were happy to be going with taehyung. but it was at five. you turned on your phone screen. it was 9:37 in the morning. that meant you had approximately eight hours to kill until you had to leave. you were too excited. today was going to be a bit rough.

eight hours later, after a new drama was watched, you checked your phone for the nth time. it was almost four o’clock. you smiled, “i can take a quick shower and get ready to go.” you mumbled to yourself.

you turned off the television and hurried into your bedroom. you grabbed a change of clothes. it was something you wanted to wear. the outfit was cute, and perfect for a date like this one. was it even a date? you wondered. taehyung didn’t say anything, but it is not like it has to be said. you blushed and took your outfit into the bathroom. you stripped and hopped into the shower.

afterwards, you put on your outfit and began drying your hair and styling it. you put on makeup, but not a lot. once you were satisfied with your look, you checked the time. it was 4:12. so close, yet so far. you sighed as you felt the feeling of butterflies, once again, in your gut. it had became a natural feeling for you. and it was always caused by taehyung. you were falling in love with him, and getting close to him. you wondered if he liked you the same way. the only issue was, taehyung was naturally friendly. it didn’t matter who the person was, he was nice and outgoing with them, and always was polite. he acted that way around you, but sometimes there were moments when his actions or words got you thinking.

you walked back into your bedroom for a pair of shoes and a small bag that could hold your phone and other essentials. once you were ready to do, you sat down on the couch and waited. while you were waiting, your mom came home. “oh, hey dear. you look nice.”

you smiled, “hi mom.”

“what’s the occasion?” she asked.

“i’m going out with taehyung.” you smiled subconsciously. “we’re going to the amusement park.”

your mother smiled as she looked at you. “alright then. have fun, and be safe.” she reminded sternly. “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.”

you laughed. “always.”

then your mom disappeared into the kitchen. you sighed. the anticipation was becoming unbearable. you were beginning to feel restless and antsy. you started to think about all the places you have gone to with taehyung, and all the things you and him had done together.

the very first date, as you counted it as, was the day after he had hit your face with a door. he had paid for a small, casual meal at a cafe. he apologized to you, and began asking your questions about yourself.

a few days later, he texted you, asking about which movie you wanted to see. however, you named a movie you knew taehyung would like.

a few a days after that one, you and taehyung went on a picnic. you cooked most of the food but taehyung tried to contribute, before admitting that his mom had helped it when he mentioned you. that when you knew, you were lying to yourself, that you were in fact in love with taehyung.

your memories were interrupted with your phone buzzing in your hands. you lifted your phone up, seeing that taehyung had texted you. “i’m here.”

you jumped off the couch and hurried to the front door. you slipped on your shoes and adjusted anything else that you felt needed adjusting. then you opened the door, and looked outside. you spotted a car parked in the front. you recognized it as taehyung’s car. you closed the door behind you and practically skipped down the steps. you opened the passenger door and slid into the seat.

“that was fast.” taehyung said.

you laughed as you put on your seatbelt. “that’s because i am excited.”

taehyung smiled before pulling away from the curb and continuing to drive down the street. he had the radio on with some recent pop songs playing. you and him happily sang along on the way to the amusement park.

once taehyung arrived and pulled into a close parking spot. you and him got out and together you walked towards the ticket booth. you pulled out your wallet to pay for your own ticket but taehyung was already handing the employee his card, an innocent smile on his face as you begrudgingly put away your wallet. he grabbed the two wristbands, which gave the both of you unlimited access to the rides. upon entering the park, he put the wristband on your wrist, making sure it wasn’t too tight. then, you did the same for him.

“alright,” the man beside you began, “what’s first?”

“should we try all of them?”

taehyung shrugged. “i have to tell you something first.”

you looked at him as he spoke. “i’m afraid of heights.”

you grinned. “ah, it’s okay. i’ll be right beside you if you get scared.”

taehyung winced. “i can watch you go on the high ones.”

you shook your head and hooked your arm with him. “you suggested this. you should try it at least.”

you began to walk to the first ride. luckily it wasn’t too high for taehyung.

two hours passed. during that time, you and taehyung went on a ton of rollercoasters. also, you and him stopped for some snacks and sweets. (while taehyung was in the bathroom, you sneakily switched flavors of cotton candy. of course he noticed though because yours was pink and his was blue. but he laughed it off). he also wanted to play games and win some things. he won two keychains that just so happened to match, almost like a friendship bracelet or necklace. you suspect the person who ran the booth, because you were certain that the keychain was a couple’s keychain. taehyung now had one half of the heart, and you had the other half. taehyung had also won you a purple bear at one of the games. you loved the bear.

“well, y/n. there’s one more to go on.”

you cuddled your bear as you walked alongside of taehyung. “which one is it?”

“the ferris wheel.”

you looked at him. “but taehyung, you’re scared of heights.”

he shrugged. “i’ll be fine. i promise.”

you were a bit skeptical, but you followed taehyung towards the ferris wheel line. a few minutes later, you and taehyung were getting on. you and him buckled the seatbelt as the worker locked the bar in front of you to ensure that no one falls out. you were a little nervous yourself. not only was it because of the height of the ferris wheel, and not only was it because taehyung seemed nervous, you also felt that something was going to happen. sitting next to taehyung, you could feel the butterflies again. this time, they kinda overwhelmed you. “hey, tae, if you’re uncomfortable, i can yell for them to bring us down.” you said, less of a joke and more of a serious statement.

taehyung turned to you and smiled. “i’m fine. just wait.”

your eyebrows knitted in a hint of confusion, but you waited. soon, the ferris wheel stopped, most likely to let someone else get off and on. it was a coincidence that you and taehyung were now on the top, and you could get a perfect few of the sunset. “wow.” you mumbled at you squinted at the sun peeking over the city of seoul. “the sky is purple.” you commented.

taehyung laughed quietly. “i have to tell you something, y/n.”

you turned your attention away from the beauty of the sunset to look at taehyung. he was smiling so warmly at you. and he was staring at you with such intensity and focus that you froze. “listen to me, okay? you know that i’d do anything for you, right?”

you blushed and looked down at your feet, your hands moving to touch the bear that sat in your lap. you turned to taehyung again. your mind was swarming with thoughts, and those butterflies… damn those butterflies were driving you crazy. before you knew it, you were kissing taehyung. and what was more shocking was that he was kissing you back. his lips were so soft, you could feel that against your own.

your mind was now clouded with taehyung, he was what you were focusing on. in fact, you didn’t even realize that the ferris wheel was moving until you pulled away from taehyung and felt a slight breeze of wind against your skin. both you and taehyung blushed, but taehyung was smiling widely. “perfect.”

you smiled and continued to mess with your bear. “was this your plan?” you asked.

taehyung nodded. “did you like it?”

you looked at him, “i loved it.”

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v #kim taehyung #taehyung #v #bts one shot #bts imagine #bts scenario #taehyung one shot #kpop #bts fluff

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breathebangtan · 6 years ago

Text

Credulous

Ch. 2: Comfort

Genere: FallenGuardianAngel!Jimin, Supernatural

Members: Jimin

Pairings: Jimin x y/n

Synopsis: love is an uncontrollable feeling, even for those who were meant to protect, and only protect. Nothing more and nothing less. Yet somehow, there was always outliers.

Warnings: A slight traumatic incident

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoy!

Ch.1 | Ch.3

“Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He says as he opens up the little square packet in between his fingers. I just nod slowly, trying to look away. The longer I was around him, the less overwhelmed I felt. It wasn't much, but it was something, and I'd take anything at this point. Fainting in front of a stranger just wasn't an option. My eyes squinted slightly once I realized he was about to start. “I'll be gentle.” He smiled, the warmest, most inviting smile I'd ever seen. The concern that laced his eyes was still very much there. I questioned why he was so concerned, I was a stranger to him. Was it normal for someone to be worried about a stranger the way he was about me?

My thoughts stopped as I felt the wet wipe touch my elbow. The sting of the alcohol caused me to involuntarily yelp, which got us a suspicious glare from the clerk. “I'm sorry. I'm not usually this whimsical, I'm just a little out of it.” He giggled lightly at my comment. I wanted to feel embarrassed but I was feeling too comfortable in his presence. You'd think I'd be filled with liquid courage right now, but I wasn't. The scrape on my elbow was burning and I wasn't able to control myself. I wasn't sure why I was so out of it. Maybe the fact that I was tipsy, a little post-panic still running inside me, and this overwhelming feeling, filling my senses. I guess my body just didn't know how to react? It was being extra sensitive.

My head wouldn't stop spinning with questions however. It was just so confusing why this feeling was suddenly so strong? I mean, I usually felt it when I was alone. Yes, when I had been in unpleasant situations, the feeling came back. But after the situation was over the feeling would fade away again. Ever since this blonde guy came around though, it was much more stronger and overwhelming, and it wasn't going away. Back there, when he had asked me to walk away, I felt it fade slightly, but the second he appeared again it all came crashing back.

It was worse than the first week, it was like someone let the chains loose and everything hit me full force. Making the first week seem like a walk in the park. Was I going crazy? Or was he causing this? I must be crazy, because how could he cause this?

My thoughts were pushed back once I felt him place a bandaid on the scrape. I breathed in relief. “One more to go.” He cheers slightly, opening another disinfectant wipe, to which my eyes open wide. “What? I thought we were done!” He can only chuckle at my exasperated reaction. “The first one is always the worst, trust me.” He reaches for my arm, getting ready, disinfectant wipe in the other hand. “How would you know? Are you an expert? You must be part of the nursing department, do we go to school together?” I ask him, causing him to have an amused look on his face. “All done.” My eyes go wide, once again.

“I didn't even feel that. How'd you?” I take a look at my arm. It's all patched up. “I told you.” He smiles as he throws the garbage away. My breath seems to stabilize, the panic I had felt subsides as well. “You really didn’t have to do all this, even back there. Thank you, for everything.” I grabbed my purse as I told him, getting myself ready to leave.

“It was nothing, really. I may have overheard what was going on. I needed to make sure you were fine.” He shrugs it off, whatever the reason may be, I was thankful things didn’t escalate any further because of him. “Well, either way I’m grateful… I guess I’ll get going now.” I wave goodbye at him. As soon as I step out of the shelter that the drug store provided, the cold nights breeze came crashing against my body. Causing chills all over, I could only rub my arms to try and keep warm.

“Here, take my sweater.” I turned around to see him taking it off, leaving him in a plain white tee. “Oh no, you’ve already done so much. I couldn’t.” I shook my hands, insisting that it wasn’t necessary, but he wouldn’t budge. “Please, I’ll be fine.” He stretches his arm to me, waiting for me to take it. I give in after a second. “You really didn’t have to, thank you.” I quickly pulled it over my head and poked my arms through, indulging in its warmth. The scent of warm vanilla mixed with roses and lavender filled my senses. “I can walk you home if you don’t mind, just to make sure you get home safe.” He asks, but the fact that he’s walking with me already clues me in. I just nod in response. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still a bit worried that, that psycho from earlier would come back.

Just as we were closing up on my apartment complex, my phone rang. I really didn’t want to deal with anything now, everything that had happened had caused me a big enough headache, I didn’t need to add more. Didn’t even need to look at the caller id to know who it was. Contemplating whether I should answer it or not, my finger hovering over the answer button. “Maybe she’s worried about you.”

“Maybe, but knowing her, she probably just wants to know if I left the party with someone.” I rolled my eyes as I clicked the end button on Rae’s call, shoving my phone back in my purse. I’d call her, just not now. The rest of the short walk to my apartment was peaceful after that. There wasn’t any creeps lurking, no commotions of any sorts. Everything went smoothly, which put my wild thoughts to rest. The birds up in the trees chirping and the wind whistles helped a lot too, and as odd as I found it for a stranger to insist on making sure I was safe, I appreciated his concern. It's not like it wasn't nice for him to worry about me, or that a person shouldn't be concerned for another, for the simple fact that they're strangers. It was quite the opposite, I just never saw enough of that kindness. All the other times I got into altercations people just looked the other way, all I’m saying is I’m not use to such kindness. Maybe that’s why I found it so strange.

Finally, we made it to my apartment complex. I stopped in front of it to thank my rescuer one last time. “Well, this is me. I’m really thankful that you stepped in, I know you didn’t have to do all that. So, thank you, really.” I could only smile at him, as he shook his head at me. “Nonsense, I had to. What kind of person would I be if I just walked away.” He seemed like such a genuinely good guy, that, and the energy he radiated was so comforting. In contrast to that jerk from the party.

I was just about to turn around to leave when I remembered the sweater. I started to take it off but was stopped by him, “Keep it, it’ll keep you warm.” I wanted to protest that he’d need it more, he still had to walk home and I would be warm inside. However, he started to walk away from me and I figured it would be a waste of time. I just laughed it off, as I walked up to my apartment door. A few flights of stairs, and there I was, picking my lock. After a few tries it finally opened, letting me in to the warmth and familiarity of my apartment. “Oh, how I missed you!” I whispered to myself, in excitement as I locked my front door. As soon as I had I ran to my bedroom and jumped on my bed, indulging in its comfy embrace. It was good to be back.

The next morning started with the annoying vibration of my phone against my bed stand, causing me to shuffle around in my bed sheets. “Hello?” I answered it, voice semi groggy, causing me to clear my throat as I listened to the other end. “I know it’s your day off, but Sammy couldn’t make it to work. Is there anyway you can make it? I need you here at 8.” My boss’s voice came through too loud through the phone, causing a minor headache. Quickly, I checked the time on the screen, it was 7:20 now. I wished so desperately I could say no, but I needed this job. “I’ll be there soon.” I didn’t get a response from him, he’d hung up. A loud yell muffled by my pillow later and I was up.

I was supposed to have a stress free weekend, relax at home, eat yummy food. But no, instead I spent my Friday night getting forced into a party I didn’t want to be at, followed home by some creep. Thankfully rescued by the sweetest guy I’d ever come across, and now I’d have to work on my Saturday morning with half a hangover. Great.

Although, come to think of it, I never got that blonde guys name. Then again, he never asked for mine either. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see him again. His kindness had gotten me, so caring towards me even though we'd just met.

Not too long later, I had finished getting ready for work. I got my things ready and walked out. “Let’s do this.” I cheered myself on as I walked down the stairs. The cafe shop was relatively close, which was one of the benefits when I first got the job. I was thankful now more than ever, because I needed to be there soon. As close as it was though, the walk was longer than I had anticipated. Honestly, could he be mad at me? He called me on such short notice. Literally forty minutes before I had to be there. I managed though, arriving with five minutes to spare. “Oh, you're here, thank god. Ask Lauren to give you the list of the current orders.” My boss was quick to rush me into the kitchen. Being a barista was fun, occasionally. Not on days like today though, it was devastatingly busy. Too many people to count on my own hands and feet, even if I included my coworkers as well. “How'd we get so popular? You'd think the Starbucks across the street would be stealing all the customers.” I commented at Lauren, who laughed as she showed me the orders that were in place.

I started to make the drinks alongside her. We tried our best to finish quickly and efficiently. Which must have worked, because our tip jars were starting to fill twice as fast. “We make a great team, don't we y/n?” Lauren asked, giving me a high five as she walked by me, starting up a new drink. She wasn't wrong, we were doing great. It didn't take long for us to get the shop to slow down. Everyone had been helped and served. All but one. A young man, wearing a black leather jacket, that matched the pitch black shade of his hair, which fell perfectly over his forehead. As a matter of fact, his whole outfit was black. His eyes quickly glanced over our menu before he stood In front of the counter.

“What can I get for you today?” I kindly asked, smile spread on my face. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't felt an odd aura around him. I couldn't explain it even if I wanted to, it was something I never felt before. It was like there was a slight emptiness inside me, but somehow I was okay with that sudden vacancy. Like it could become addictive. “An iced Americano.” His words brought me out, but pushed me right back in once I saw his eyes. Intriguing, yes, but not in a pleasant way like I would have liked

“Yes, of course. It'll be three fifty.” I choked out, my mouth was starting to dry out. Making it hard for my words to come out. He handed me over the money, and I quickly placed his order. I ran back to the kitchen to make his drink, Lauren laughing at me, for a reason I didn't know yet. “What? Did I do something?” I ask her, completely oblivious to what was going on. That only made it funnier for her, causing a confused smile to spread across my face. “Haven't you seen a cute guy before? He got you all choked up and everything!” She started to laugh loudly again. I gave her a playful push, as I reached for a lid. “That's not what happened.” I glared at her, shaking my index at her, signaling a no. I walked over to the counter, calling out the drink.

The young man walked up and grabbed it. “Have a nice d-“ I was cut off by him placing something into the pocket of my apron, leaving me confused. “I’ll see you around.” He smiles at me before leaving, I watch his body disappear before turning back. Lauren is already holding back her laughter. “Are you okay? Did he tip you?” I can only shrug, it must have been what he placed in there, no? What else could it be? “It has to be, I don’t know what else he could have placed in there. Did he not see the tip jar? He didn’t have to do that.” I shake my head, he invaded my personal space, he was a customer. That wasn’t okay, besides his aura had me feeling odd.

I shrugged it off and got back to work. I figured he just wanted to make sure I’d be the one to keep the tip. Was my service that great? All I did was serve him an iced americano. He was probably just a generous tipper. The rest of the morning was busy, but not as busy as it was early on in the morning. I couldn’t help but wonder if Sammy was okay, or if he just wasn’t feeling work today, deciding not to come in. Either way, I envied him. These were supposed to be my days off, but here I was instead, covering for him. Which wouldn’t have been so bad, if it wasn’t as busy, but it was.

My eyes kept going back to the clock on the wall, counting the literal seconds until my shift was over. I couldn’t wait to go home and just relax. Finally, i was two mocha lattes and one caramel macchiato away from leaving. Smile on my lips, as I prepared the drinks. I couldn’t help the happiness I felt, knowing I was so close to being back home, buried in blankets. I finished the drinks and called them out, waiting for the customers to pick them up. Once they had, I walked back to clock out. “Thank the heavens, I’m going home!” I whispered to myself.

It was currently 4pm. The sun was still high up in the sky, as I walked out the back door, heading home. People were bustling around, probably because most of them had just gotten out of work, or picking up their children from school. I popped in my earphones, playing some music while I walked home. The cool breeze was relaxing as I shut off my thoughts and enjoyed the walk home. The sky was a light orange tint where the sun was, with elaborate shaped clouds that looked so soft. The green trees were a beautiful contrast against the sky. Aside from the noise of the cars, the atmosphere was peaceful.

I was so drowned in the setting, that I hadn't even noticed the loud car horn. By the time I heard it, the car was inches away from me, my heart stopping. The car was rushing towards me, from the corner of my eye, I noticed another car had crashed into its rear. I bid my goodbyes to this world in those last seconds, that moved in slow motion for me. I was ready to let go, not because I wanted to but because I knew I had to. My eyes shut close, not being able to bear seeing the end of my life. Or so I thought that's what would happen, but I felt someone else's body slam against mine, pushing me out of the way. The hit broke me out of my paralyzed state. I felt myself choke out a breath, breathing erratically. What had just happened?

I allowed my eyes to slowly open. Scared to see what the scene looked like. “Are you okay?” A familiar voice said from beside me. Just like last night, the feelings of warmth and comfort came crashing back. I tried my best to ignore it as I took in the totaled car that crashed against the cement wall that was being trapped by the truck behind it, equally as trashed. The drivers seemed to be badly injured. Disregarding the familiar voice asking if I was fine, I ran to the other side of the cars. The driver of the truck seemed to be gaining consciousness, but the woman in the car wasn’t moving. I quickly opened the door, pushing her body back by her shoulders, I was being careful not knowing how badly she was injured. “Hey? Can you hear me?” I asked her as I looked at her body, her shins were both bleeding, as the car had caved in on itself. Her forehead was bleeding as well. “Are you okay?” I asked again, reaching over to unbuckle her seat belt. I wasn’t sure what to do in this situation, but leaving her in the car didn’t seem like a good idea.

I gathered up all the strength in my body to carry her out, but I didn’t have to carry her for long. The familiar face from Friday night took her from me, placing her safely against the wall. Was he the one who pushed me out the way? He looked back at me after he made sure she was ok. “You never answered me, are you okay?” He asked me once again, coming closer. Were these feelings really attached to him? It couldn’t be, I felt these when I was alone too. So why was it so overwhelmingly prominent when he was around me? I couldn’t think straight because of all the different emotions going around inside me. “We, uh, should help him out too.” I gestured to the man in the truck.

I helped him bring the guy out, as soon as we had I called 911. I explained everything that had happened to them, to which they had said they’d send out help and I hung up. We waited for them to arrive after that, but the adrenaline that was in my body started to leave, and I started to feel a bit shaken up. “Hey, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry.” The blonde next to me reassured. He rubbed my back, comfortingly, and just like before, his presence had calmed me down. The rest of the time waiting was spent with me staring off into nothing, with my mind at a blank. It wasn’t long before the cops and ambulance arrived to the scene.

One cop pulled the two of us aside, asking us questions about the situation. The blonde guy was talking to the cop first, but I was so out of it that I didn’t hear a thing they said until the cop snapped his fingers at me. “Miss, are you alright?” He asks me, slowly I nodded at him. “She’s been like this for awhile now, I think she’s a bit shaken up.” He pats my back slowly, it’s as if he knows that his presence alone calms me down. “Yeah, I wouldn’t blame her, it’s quite a traumatic experience.” The cop is sympathetic with my current state. “Miss, I need to ask you some questions about the accident. Do you think you can do that?” I nod once again at him. I clear my throat, trying to get words out. The cop takes the cue and beckons another. “Do me a favor and get her some water.” He nods at him and rushes off. I take a look at the blonde beside me, he reassuringly smiles at me.

The cop started his inquiry, and I tried my best to answer him as accurately as possible. Awhile later, and the sun was starting to set, my watery eyes being dried out by the cool breeze. After the cop was done asking me questions, I was taking to the ambulance to get patched up. Shortly after I was allowed to leave.

“Would you like me to walk you home?” He asks me, as I start walking away from everything to go home. “Honestly, I would really appreciate that.” I nod, a small smile on my lips. I was just happy I didn’t have to go home alone.

“Thank you for saving me earlier, I really owe you my life. You’ve saved me twice now.” I’m telling him this as calmly as I can, but truth be told, I was still trembling. “Remember what I said before? I had to step in.” His words were laced with so much concern, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hand I really appreciated it. He was so kind, and maybe that’s why he cared so much. “You know, I never got your name.” I took a second to look at him, how his hair was pushed back by the breeze, the way his eyes scanned the area in front on him. “I’m Jimin, and you?” He looked over at me too, his beautiful eyes staring back at mine. He had a kind of beauty I had never seen before. One that seemed like it didn’t belong to this world.

“I’m Y/n. It’s nice to officially meet you.” I was afraid that I’d run out of things to talk about, because I knew if I did I’d tear up, and this time I would cry. As if he sensed it, he started to make small talk with me. “Did you call your friend back. Rae, was it?” I’m surprised he’d remembered her name. I knew he’d read her name on my screen, I just didn’t think he’d care to remember. “Actually, I have not. I was so busy with work and now this, that I just haven’t had time.” He nodded, taking in the information.

“Well, just don’t keep her in the dark too long. She might worry, no?” He suggested, and I was sure Rae would worry if I ghosted her for the rest of the weekend. It would be a good idea to make time to call her. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” A sigh escaped my mouth, I was starting to feel tired. Thankfully the rest of the walk was peaceful, with him keeping me busy with his questions. I don’t think I could ever express how thankful I was towards him.

Finally, we arrived in front of my apartment complex. Just like the prior night, I stood in front of it, turning to face him. “Thank you for walking me home, and for saving me back there. I can’t tell you enough how much I am. I’m seriously in debt to you.” He shakes his head, he takes a step closer to me. “You don’t owe me anything, the fact that you’re still alive is enough.” He brushes back a strand of my hair. “Now go inside.” He turns me around and gives me a slight push. I shake my head, but continue walking. Every time I thanked him he brushed it off like it wasn’t anything big, as if it was his job to keep me safe. The rational side of me wanted to question it, but I just couldn’t find a reason to do so. No one had cared for me that way aside from Rae. Of course, my patents as well, but I was enjoying being cared about too much to question his motives. Rae had just recently come into my life. It wasn’t a feeling I was all that use to, and it was nice.

I ran up the stairs to my door, wanting to be in the comfort of my home. Desperately putting my key in and unlocking the door. I breathed relieved. My body leaned against the door once I had locked it again. I sighed loudly as I take my shoes off. As soon as I was away from Jimin I had felt the warmth leave too, making me feel the traumatic emotions of earlier again. Not knowing how I’d respond to the sudden feelings beginning to bubble up, I walked to my living room. A couple steps in and I collapsed on myself. Frantically breathing as I cried. Eyes shut closed, shaking hand over my mouth. Suddenly I felt myself inside the most inviting embrace. “It’ll be alright, you’re going to be okay.” Jimin’s voice spoke out to me.

I threw myself against him, holding onto him too desperately. “I thought I’d die! My life flashed before me, and I let myself accept death. I was ready for it…” I cried against his shoulder as he rubbed my back, soothing my pain.

“I’m here, I won’t let you get hurt. Ever.”

#bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts au #bts jhope #bts jin #bts suga #bts #bts angst #bts v #bts maknae line #bts namjoon #bts hyung line #bts guardian au #bts reactions #bts yandere

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