#'sorry to be late. i... overslept. (small pause). it is evening' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lambtotheslaughterr · 16 days

Text

Something Wicked This Way Comes

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 13.3k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

OONA'S MASTERLIST

request for @namelesslosers

requests are currently CLOSED

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

Summary: Five years after escaping the cluthes of her violent ex, reader is preparing to spend Halloween night alongside her son, but she wakes that morning feeling something amiss...

it's Halloween, after all, & things are bound to give her a fright, even if it is her past catching up for a bite.

READERS, PREPARE YOURSELVES. I GIVE YOU...THE DARKEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN.

It was like any other day. Except it wasn’t. From the moment you woke up, something was off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a tense sensation in the air around you. It left you feeling on edge all day, but you had summed it up to be your paranoia & anxiety kicking in because it was Halloween night. After all, it was a night of spooky scares.

What didn’t help relieve your unsettled nerves, was the fact that you had woken up late. It was a little past 7:30 in the morning when you finally rolled over to see the time. The red lights flashing at you on your alarm clock shocked you awake, causing you to stumble out of bed.

“Shit!” You hissed as you raced to your closet to pull out your outfit for the day.

“Louie!” You yelled from your bedroom, listening for any sign of your son being awake. When you didn’t get a response you tripped into the hallway as you struggled to throw your dress on over your head. You were relieved you showered before bed, otherwise you would have dreaded going to work without one.

“Lou?!” You hollered again as you stumbled into his bedroom.

His bed was empty & unmade. You cursed again, knowing exactly where you’d find him next. Leaving his room, you succeeded in getting your dress on & tying the bow in the back before entering the living room. As expected, your son was on his stomach, his bent arms holding his head up as he watched cartoons. You spotted the bag of opened candy on the floor before him.

“Lou…” You sped-walk towards him as he kicked his feet.

He smiled up at you, that sweet innocent smile of his you loved so much.

“You overslept again, Mommy.” He pointed out.

You feigned surprise, “You don’t say. Maybe someone should have woken me up."

Bending at the waist, you picked your son up, cradling him on your hip as you searched for the remote to shut off the TV. Lou rested his on your shoulder, his fingers tangling into your hair as he rubbed the strands between his fingers.

“You were crying in your sleep again last night.” Lou revealed, making your heart stop. “I didn’t want to wake you up since you weren’t crying anymore.”

“Oh, hon.” You paused in the hallway to placed him on the ground, kneeling down to be eye-level with him, “I’m sorry you had to hear that again.”

Ever since you left your hometown, or rather ran away from there, you had the same nightmare. In the beginning they happened every single night, but now, almost six years later, they were few & far between. But it was Louie who suffered the most from them. You didn’t realize you were still having him until he was older & started talking. You remembered when he lied next to you in bed one morning, asking why you cried in your sleep. You never had any memories of the nightmares. But Louie remembered them for you.

“Was the bad man in your dream trying to hurt you again?” Lou bit his lip, a small bout of fear appearing in his eyes.

You tugged him into you, holding him tight against your chest as you hugged him, “All that matters is that it was just a dream.”

Lou wrapped his tiny arms over your shoulders, his hands never leaving your hair. That had been a comfort mechanism of his ever since he was an infant.

“I wish he would visit my dreams.” Lou shared softly, to which you gently pulled him away from you to stare at him bewildered.

“Baby, why would you want that?”

He lowered his eyes, “So you could sleep.”

Releasing a saddened sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair, “Mommy is fine, okay? You keep dreaming your excellent, beautiful dreams. One of us has to, right?”

Lou nodded at that but he wasn’t smiling.

Wanting to lighten the mood, you gathered his hands in yours, “I tell you what, you hurry up & go get dressed while Mommy finishes getting ready & we’ll take the long way to school so you can see the kitties, yeah?”

Louie beamed at that, “Really?!”

“Yes, really.” You kissed his forehead before standing up, “Now, hurry! We’re late as it is.”

Lou took off for his bedroom, cheers of joy left in his wake. You smiled after him before re-entering your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, resting against it momentarily as an old memory flashed before you.

You couldn’t breathe, one of his hands wrapped securely around your throat as he fucked himself into you. His pleased groans filled your ears, forcing more tears from your eyes. A chilled shiver shot up your spin when you felt his lips kiss the tops of your breasts where his teeth marks remained. The weight of his body crushed against yours & you had never felt more trapped.

“Mom!” Lou yelled from down the hallway, making you jump, “Can I wear my costume to school?!”

“Yes, baby!” You hollered back, hearing the unevenness in your voice. Shaking away the awful sensations of that memory, you finished getting ready for work.

Lou skipped ahead of you as you walked down the main street of your small town. You had moved here shortly after Louie was born, wanting him to live in a family town that had a good school system. More importantly, it was a close-knit community. Almost everyone knew everyone. That worked in your favor & made you feel safe. It meant that if anyone new ever moved to town you would know about it. Your neighbors were your last line of defense against the man you escaped from over five years ago.

“Look, Mommy, look!” Lou paused in front of the display window the cat adoption café. He had his face pressed against the glass, his ghoul makeup smearing as he did so. You laughed to yourself, knowing you would just have to re-do his makeup again before going into class with all the other ghosts & witches.

“Wow.” You mused along with your son as he meowed at the cats chasing his finger on the other side of the glass. Lou had been asking for a cat for his birthday ever since he was three years old. Whenever he saw one on the street or in a neighbor’s window, he would race towards it at lay on the ground with it as the feline in question would rub along his face & body, making him as one of their own.

But you always had to say no. A cat, or pet of any kind, would slow you down in the event you had to run again. There had never been a peep or warning from your few trusted friends back home, but you couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t live with yourself if you had to escape from your home with Lou at a moment’s notice, him crying over your shoulder as he begged for you to get his pet.

And that made you furious. That you couldn’t give your son something he truly wanted & loved because you had to be ready for when your past caught up to you.

As Lou continued aweing at the kittens behind the glass, you raised your head to peer inside the café. The elderly woman that was always there waved at you through the glass & you waved back. But as you did, you spotted another in the glass. Only they weren’t on the other side, but in the reflection. And they looked a lot like…

A panicked gasp escaped you as you spun around, staring wide-eyed across the street. But no one was there. Your heart was racing as you looked down the street every which way. But all you saw were other townspeople going about their Friday morning.

It’s in your head, _____. You calmed yourself. He’s not here. It wasn’t him. It’s just your paranoia.

Inhaling sharply, you stole Lou’s attention, grabbing his wrist softly, “C’mon, honey, we gotta go.”

Louie allowed you to drag him away from the kitty café, his arm outstretched in longing.

You saw Lou off to his kindergarten classroom before speed-walking down the hallway to the main office. It was a massive relief to you that you managed to land a job in an administrative position at Lou’s school before he even started. Before that you were waitressing while taking online classes at the local community college, & once you got your degree in business administration, you scored a front office desk job at the only elementary school in town. All you needed was to be close to Lou because you never knew when you’d have to snatch him & run.

“Hey, Miriam.” You greeted breathlessly as you raced into the office, tossing your purse on the floor under your desk.

“Hey, you.” She eyed you mischievously.

Miriam was well beyond her retirement period, but Principle Bentley couldn’t get rid of her if he tried. And tried he had. But it was all in good fun. Miriam was a staple of the school & the town itself. She was known as a hard ass but also a gossip queen. She always had all the tea o what was happening in the sleepy Northeastern town. It made your mostly mundane days more enjoyable.

“Overslept again, I see.”

“Yeah.” You sighed as you turned your computer on, “Don’t know what’s going on lately.”

“Something’s in the air.” She commented, echoing your silent thoughts from earlier that morning. “You should relax, though, hon. You’re always wound so tight.”

You raised your brows in agreement as you pulled up your morning duties, “Easier said than done.”

Miriam chuckled at that. The door behind your respective desks opened & Principle Bentley stepped out.

“Morning, ladies.” He greeted as he approached the coffee maker in the corner of the office.

“Morning, Nicholas.” Miriam didn’t care for referring to him by his career name, after all, she did babysit him when he was only a child.

“Morning, Principle Bentley.” You greeted him, to which he smirked sweetly.

“How many times do I gotta tell you, _____, call me Nick.”

Principle Bentley was young for his job. Thirty one, to be exact, & he was a well-known bachelor in the community. He was easy on the eyes, with dark brown eyes reminiscent of a puppy, & dimples that only added to his boyish charm. But he was your boss. And despite his mild flirtatious advances, you only treated him as such.

If you couldn’t indulge your son by getting him a cat, you sure as shit couldn’t indulge yourself with a romantic partner. It was out of the question. Perhaps one day, when Louie was older & out of the house, but until then, you kept your mind distraction free.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, you’re my boss.” You reminded him back, though your tone was friendly.

Principle Bentley chuckled at that before pouring himself a mug of coffee, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

You glanced back at your computer, knowing Miriam really only showed up to get paid & gabber with the mom’s & dad’s that came in to pick up their children.

“There’s an assembly just before lunch, the usual ‘stay safe out there on Halloween night’ spiel followed by some games the teachers put together. And then during final hour the kids will be going from class to class as a precursor to their trick-or-treating.”

He nodded in response, “Sounds like a normal day.”

You smiled, “Pretty much.”

“Alright, well, I trust you two to hold down the fort out here while I make some calls.” He began walking towards his office before stopping in the doorway, “_____?”

“Yes?” You spun around in your chair to face him.

“Before the assembly, I’d like to speak with you.”

“O-okay.” You fumbled, your fingers clenching together.

“It’s nothing bad. Just something I wanted to run past you.”

“Of course.” You nodded sheepishly. Then he closed his door.

Turning back to your computer, you rolled your shoulders, having felt them stiffen at his proposal to talk one-on-one.

“Why is it they always say, ‘it’s nothing bad’, when it is indeed something bad?” You murmured out loud, not truly expecting an answer.

“Nick?” Miriam chuckled, “Boy couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried. You’re not in trouble dear. If I had to guess…”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing that suggestive tone of your voice very well.

“Nick is finally going to put his big boy pants on & ask you on a date.”

You scoffed at that, facing her wide-eyed, “Miriam! He is not going to ask me on a date. He’s my boss!”

“Oh, pish, posh.” Miriam waved your dismissal away, “I met my husband working for him. It still happens.”

“No.” You chuckled, focusing on your computer as you read emails, “Not that. Besides, I already have a man in my life.”

“Your son, as cute as he is, doesn’t count.” Miriam told you bluntly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her away before sarcastically responding, “Now, shut up. I have very important emails to get back to.”

Miriam left twenty minutes early for the assembly, leaving you to finish off your morning duties alone in the office. There was still five minutes to spare before the assembly started so you put your computer in sleep mode then stood up to head to Principle Bentley’s office.

Knocking gently, you waited until you heard the familiar sound of his voice, telling you to come in.

“_____!” He grinned, rising from his chair, “Please, take a seat.”

Despite what Miriam teased you about earlier, you still felt nervous. Though she was right about Principle Bentley being a good guy, you still felt like you had done something wrong.

“So, is this about my being late?” You questioned, your brows creasing.

“You were late?” He replied, clearly only hearing about it now.

“Oh…yeah.” You sighed, “I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again, I prom—”

“_____, it’s okay. You’re not in trouble. Miriam bails on her duties all the time & have I spoken to her about it?”

“Well, no, but it’s Miriam. No one really wants to cross her.” You joked, trying to lighten the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“Sure, sure.” He nodded in agreement, “Look, I don’t mind if you’re late. You could be two hours late & it’d be fine. I mean, what are you gonna miss, signing kids in & out? It’s fine, really.”

“Okay.” You felt yourself relax, “If you say so.”

“I do.” He chuckled.

“So, what is that you wanted to discuss?”

Principle Bentley sucked his teeth in awkwardly before finally leaning forward on his desk, his elbows resting there with his hands raised, “I know it’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting lunch together today.”

“Oh.” You felt your smile drop. Oh. Miriam had been right.

“No pressure, either!” He rushed out, “I know how weird it’s gotta be having your boss ask you out but I don’t know, figured I’d at least try.”

“Yeah.” You chuckled awkwardly before gathering your thoughts, “The offer is nice, Nick. But—”

“Nick?” He asked incredulously but was smiling nonetheless, “Using my name? I know what that means.”

He was letting you let him down easily & you were grateful towards him for it.

“But I’m going to have to decline.”

“I understand.” He nodded, never losing his boyish smile.

“Ya know, in a perfect world, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure if you really wanted to say what you were about to say, but the look on Nick’s face encouraged you to keep going.

“In a perfect world, I’d say yes.” You admitted. Nick was a good guy. He always took care of you & Miriam. Plus he enjoyed working with the kids & all parents sung his praises. Nick Bentley was a good guy, & he’d be an excellent father. Truly, that was something you wish you could have given Lou, a father, but with your past still terrorizing you in your sleep, it just wasn’t possible.

“And what is a perfect world?” Nick asked, his voice soft.

You sighed, biting your lower lip in thought. “I love being a mother. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

For some odd reason, you were ready to tell someone your life story, or at least the nicer parts about it. Something indeed was in the air.

“But I had Lou when I was young, too young. I was nineteen. I wasn’t ready… & ya know, Lou’s father…” You inhaled sharply as those startling blue eyes of your ex flashed through your mind. “Let’s just say he wasn’t a good guy. I’m just not ready for another relationship. Or dating, even. I just want to focus on being a good mother to Lou.”

Nick eyed you with admiration in his eyes. He nodded in understanding, “Your son is very lucky to have you. I hope you know that.”

The praise made your heart falter with elation. Because you ran away from your hometown, & couldn’t risk your ex finding you, you were forced to cut off all communication with friends & family. No one had even met your son. Not your parents, not your best friend, no one. It was another aspect of your life that you were furious about. That Lou was forced to only call you family when he had so many more people out there who would love him just as much as you did. But to protect him most of all, you had to stay hidden. So, hearing those words from Nick made your heart swell.

“Thank you for saying that.” You replied almost inaudibly.

“Thank you for being transparent.” Nick responded in kind, “I can’t imagine it was easy to share.”

“No.” You chuckled openly, “It wasn’t. At all.”

“Well,” Nick stood from his chair, gesturing towards the door, “walk with me to the assembly?”

You laughed & clapped your hands as kids all over the gymnasium ran amok, your ghoulish son among them. After the usual ‘stay safe’ portion of the assembly, the kids were free to go around to booths the teachers had put together in the spirit of Halloween night. You took to the wall, your eyes following your son as he ran around with his friends, chasing one of the 3rd grade teachers dressed a ghost, playing a game they called ‘ghost hunters’.

Nick was in the midst of it all, getting tangled up with the kids as they either wrapped themselves around his legs or tried climbing his black. You hid your smile behind your hand as you watched on.

On the bleachers to your right was Miriam & a few other female staff members. They all appeared to be reacting in shock to something Miriam was saying. You were curious to what tea she was spilling so you found yourself joining them.

“Why the shocked faces?” You asked. One of the first grade teachers, Isabella, handed you a Styrofoam cup of hot apple cider. You accepted it gratefully.

“You haven’t heard?!” Sophia, one of the student teacher’s, turned to you in shock, “Someone broke into George Acosta’s barn last night & stole that ancient Chevy truck he’s been working on for ages.”

You frowned at that. You knew the truck well, everyone did. But only because it made these awful metal, grinding sound as it ambled down the roads throughout town. You could hear it from two blocks away most times as it backfired, alerting anyone in the vicinity that good old Mr. Acosta was out & about.

“I’m telling ya.” Isabella commented, “Whoever stole it has to be from out of town. No one is idiotic enough to steal from George. Remember when he threatened Sheriff Kaufman with a loaded shot gun just for pulling over a reckless driving teen on his property last year? Even the Sheriff was apologizing profusely to him.”

The women cackled amongst themselves but you weren’t laughing. The strange occurrence & Isabella’s theory about it being an out of towner made your stomach shift into knots.

It not him. It can’t be. Someone would’ve contacted you if he got wind of where you were. It was just a random crime, _____. It’s not him. You’re okay. Lou is okay. Calm down. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Ex—

“_____? My god, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Isabella placed a hand on your upper back in comfort.

You nodded shakily but stood up, “I’m alright. Just feeling sick all of a sudden.”

“You don’t look good, hon.” Miriam added, peering at you with concern.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured them, “I just need to use the restroom really quick.”

Everything was okay. It was just your paranoia, you knew that, but you couldn’t deny how ever since this morning you felt like something awful was coming. But you reminded yourself that it wouldn’t be the first time you felt that way & ended up realizing eventually that it was just your nerves & traumatic responses acting up.

“Nick.” You approached him as he assisted with the gym teacher in replacing a skeleton pinata with a pumpkin one.

“Hey!” He greeted jovially but frowned when he took in your state, “Whoa, you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well, all of a sudden. I don’t know what’s happening but—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He clambered down the ladder he had been on to gently grip your upper arms, “What do you need?”

“I know I was late this morning but would it be alright if I went home for the day? I just, I don’t want to get the kids sick if it’s something contagious.”

You were lying through your teeth, something you had gotten really good at, but it was for the right reason.

“Yeah, of course, of course. Is there anything I can do?”

Your eyes searched out Lou as he gathered around one of the teachers dressed as a warlock, listening intently to a story he was reading from a book.

“Yes, but it’s too much to ask for.”

“Hey.” Nick smiled kindly at you, “There’s no such thing, what is it?”

“Would you mind bringing Lou home after school? Normally I’d take him with me but he’s having too much fun & I don’t want to ruin his day. Plus, I have no car to pick him up & I don’t want him walking home from school alone.”

“Of course, yeah, I can do that, it’ll be no problem.” He nodded.

It took a long time getting comfortable about Lou being alone with anyone who wasn’t you, but after living in the close-knit community as long as you did, you knew that Louie would be in safe hands with whomever you left him with.

“Thank you, seriously, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He stood up straight but remained watching you with concern, “What about you though? Do you need a ride home?”

“No.” You mustered a grateful smile, waving away his offer, “I’ll be okay. I just need to get home & take a cold shower or something.”

“Okay, yeah. Will you call me when you get there? Let me know you’re alive & what not.”

The two of you shared a laugh but you nodded, “Of course.”

“Alright. I’ll bring him back straight after school. You focus on feeling better.”

“Thank you, Nick.”

He gripped your shoulder in comfort before you parted from him to approach Louie. He was still listening to the warlock’s story when you appeared behind him.

“Hey, baby. Mommy’s not feeling well so I’m going home. Principle Bentley said he’d bring you home after school, okay?”

He spun around towards you, his youthful face frowning as he peered up at you, “Are you okay, Mommy?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just feel sick, that’s all.”

“Is it your dreams?”

“No.” You shook your head rapidly, cupping his cheek, “I just need to lie down for a while.”

“Okay.” He gave you that soft smile of his you adored so much.

“Mommy loves you.” You hugged him, kissing him three times on the crown of his head, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, baby.”

After seeking out Lou’s teacher & asking her to walk him to the office at the end of the school day so Nick could drive him home, you were finally able to leave work. Fortunately, you only lived five blocks away, so you would be home in no time to get your head together. You hated lying to your coworkers, more so, your son, but you needed to get home to ensure that everything was still ready to go in case you & Lou had to run. Never in the five years that you had lived in your town had you ever had a nasty feeling like you did today. And although you knew it was likely just the eeriness of Halloween mixed with your paranoia, you chose to be safe rather than sorry.

But as you strolled home, your cardigan wrapped snugly around your front, you couldn’t help as your mind strayed to the past.

You were in love, maddeningly so. He was everything you could have dreamed of. And the way he looked at you always had you feeling like a schoolgirl with a silly crush. You could never have imagined that you would have found your prince. And that’s just what he was. He was your prince charming & you were his darling princess.

The two of you were inseparable. The honeymoon phase meant something new with the two of you. Your relationship was filled with laughter, friendship, trust, & most importantly, love. So much love. You never knew you could love anyone as deeply as you loved him, & you knew he felt the same.

And for the first year of your relationship it was pure bliss. Until it wasn’t.

Everything changed after you turned 18. You were ready to take your relationship to the next level. He had been ecstatic that you were ready to become intimate & finally have sex. It was how you knew he was one of the good ones, that he never pressured you or tried anything himself. He was respectful & kind & patient. Everything you dreamt about. But once you two did have sex, something changed in him. A darker energy you never knew he had emerged.

It started out small. He would become touchier. You had reasoned to yourself it was just because now that you two were having sex he was antsy for it all the time. But when the times came that you wouldn’t want, whether it was because you weren’t in the mood or weren’t feeling well, he would make snarky remarks under his breath. And then it shifted again.

He started to not want you going out with him, even if it was just to a friend’s house to watch a movie. He would text you the whole time, blow up your phone, leave you voicemails accusing you of not being where you said you were. Your friends pointed out to you that his behavior was problematic & that you should discuss it with. And so you did. Why wouldn’t you of? After all, you two had never had serious issues before. But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The night you told him that he was beginning to make you feel suffocated would be a night you never forgot. He has lost his mind. You had never heard him yell before, let alone raise his voice, especially at you, but he had done it all that night. When he got to a point where you felt scared to be alone with him you had tried leaving but he wouldn’t have any that.

It was the first time he raped you. It wouldn’t be the last.

After the first time though, he had apologized profusely, swearing it would never happen again. He confessed to you that he was just scared of losing you & that you were giving him mixed signals lately. You didn’t understand that, knowing that in your own mind you were definitely not doing that, but he looked so scared, so terrified of losing you, that it had convinced you to stay with him.

You would live to regret it. His behavior didn’t change, it only got worse. But it eventually go to a point where you were practically chained to him. You stopped hanging out with your friends, quit coming out of your room to visit with your family, stopped posting about your life on social media. You became a scared little girl, & it was all because of him.

Then when you thought he couldn’t get worse, he proved you wrong.

The two of you had been attending a beach party. It was with his friends so you weren’t anticipating seeing any of your own, but one had been there. You had known Donovon your whole life, longer than any of your friends. Other than your closest girlfriend, Donovon was your next closest friend. So, when you saw him at that party, you were ecstatic to see a face you were forbidden to see.

It was your mistake putting Donovon in the devil’s path. Had you known what your boyfriend was capable of, you would have never taken him back. But that didn’t matter. When Donovon saw you, he snuck up behind you, capturing you by your waist & lifting you into the air. You had squealed in fear at first, genuinely scared due to your ex’s mental, emotional, & physical torment, but when you realized who it was, you only felt relief.

So, you hugged Donovon. Your oldest friend.

And it would be the last time you, that anyone did.

The devil had heard your screams of fear & came rushing forward furiously. You had no time to react or stop him as he tackled Donovon to the ground before beating him to a pulp. Donovon didn’t have a chance to defend himself as the devil knocked his head every which way. Others at the party managed to separate the two but the damage had been done.

Donovon was in the hospital for two weeks before his family took him off life support. Your boyfriend had murdered your oldest friend. And he got away with it, too. Witnesses at the party protected the devil, saying that Donovon had started it. That it was just a fight that got out of hand. No one knew that it would come to that. And most of all, your boyfriend’s father used his influence to ensure his son would never see a sentence. Not even for manslaughter.

Your boyfriend swore to you that he didn’t mean to lose it like he did but you saw that dark fury behind his eyes. He had. He had meant every single fist brought down onto your friend’s skull, & he would do it again.

You weren’t safe with him. That much you knew, but you didn’t know how to get away from him. At the time, you were preparing yourself to be one of the women you had seen in those domestic violence movies who couldn’t find their voice to tell anyone the truth. But that all changed when you took a pregnancy test & it came back positive.

That pink plus sign was all you needed to kick your flight instinct into gear. It took a couple weeks to get everything prepared, but you made it happen. They were the scariest weeks of your life because you were required to sneak behind the devil’s back to get the plan into place. After what he did to Donovon, it took little convincing from old friends & your parents to help you get out.

But you didn’t want them to get hurt in the process. So, once you had the funds, the drive, & a bus ticket out of town, you told all of those who helped you that you wouldn’t be in contact with them, too scared that if they knew where you were that your ex would do to them as he did to Donovon just to find out where you were. You couldn’t allow that, not again.

And so you ran, & you didn’t stop running until you reached the New England states. Throughout your relationship, you had revealed to your boyfriend many times how you dreamed of living in the Pacific Northwest. It would be the first place he looked for you. And he had the funds & means to do just that. So you went to the other end of the country, counting your days until he found you again.

The backfiring of a nearby engine shocked you out of your reverie. You blinked away your memories, realizing you were then only a block away from your house. The backfiring of a nearby engine sounded near the end of the street you were on & you froze, remembering what your coworkers at work had just told you about Georga Acosta.

You felt safe enough standing there on Main Street, surrounded by townsfolk as they went about their business, but you felt a chill roll up your spine. As if eyes were watching you. As if he was watching you.

Your flight instinct from long ago kicked in & you rushed into the nearest storefront. It was a Halloween store. The man behind the counter smiled politely at you as he continued helping a customer. You backed yourself up until you couldn’t be seen from the street but could still see the street yourself. As you did, the engine grew closer. You stood behind a shelf at the end of an aisle as you waited for Acosta’s truck to appear. For him to be behind the wheel.

But when the truck finally appeared, you felt a heavy weight lift from your shoulders. It was Chevy, much like Mr. Acosta’s, but not his. Instead, the truck that ambled down the street was filled to the brim with teenagers hooting & hollering as they wore Halloween masks, playing the iconic Halloween theme song on a boombox from the bed.

You fluttered your eyes closed, your hand on your chest.

“Miss, are you alright?”

Your eyes flew open at the nearby voice. It was the man behind the counter, the customer he had been helping gone.

“Yes, sorry.” You breathed out, a relieved smile on your face.

“Did you need to purchase something?” You could tell he was curious about you but didn’t push.

Your arm brushed against the shelves you had been hiding behind. On the display shelf was a witches hat. You quickly grabbed it.

“Just this.”

After paying, you felt safe enough to leave the store, now knowing your imagination was just that. Then you finished your walk home.

Someone was calling your name. It was like a whisper, close but far away at the same time. Your name was said again, over & over, & every single time it repeated it grew closer, louder. Until nothing. Then it was quiet.

Then a pair of lips touched your cheek.

You shot forward in bed, your face coated in sweat, your chest heaving. Your mouth & throat was dry. Holding your head in your hands, you focused on calming down your breathing. You touched your cheek where you had felt the kiss. It was warm to touch.

It was just a dream. You had fallen asleep, not meaning to, just wanting to lie down for five minutes but it seems your body had other plans. Once you gathered yourself, shaking away the nerves, you stood from your bed, your muscles aching. But as you did you halted immediately.

The door to your bedroom was open. Not all the way, just cracked open. You frowned. You were sure you had shut it. But ever since getting home, your mind had been a mess. All the anxiety & paranoia you were feeling was eating you away. You were losing it!

Brushing the concern for you door away, you exited your room, heading down to your kitchen. The clock on the stove read 2:32. School would have just gotten out, Nick would be here any moment with Louie. You chugged a glass of water & opened the fridge, peering inside to get a snack ready for Lou, though you imagined he would be bringing home plenty of candy from the trick-or-treat at school.

Just as you fingered a package of sliced ham, the doorbell rang. You felt your brows crease, checking the clock once more. 2:33.

They must have left school early. You thought mindlessly, knowing it was Nick with your son at the door.

Tossing the ham onto the counter, you rounded the kitchen to the front door. You unlatched the lock & swung it open.

“That was qui—” Your words died on your tongue.

There was no one. You frowned, stepping out onto your porch. Looking into your front yard & the neighbors, you saw no one in sight. Your street was quiet & bare of any life.

So, who rang the doorbell?

The question only left you reeling. Turning back to go inside, you stopped when something in the corner of your eye stole your attention. On the bottom step of the stairs leading to your porch was a few pumpkins you & Lou hard carved out together earlier that week. They appeared relatively normal except for one.

Warily descending the stairs, you gripped the banister when you finally realized what was wrong with the single pumpkin. The handle of a knife glinted under the autumn sun as it stuck out from the top of the pumpkin. You covered your mouth with your hand, whipping around to check your surroundings once more. There was no one in sight, not even Eugenia May—the town recluse—was peeking out from her window.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You turned back to the pumpkin, kneeling down to inspect further. From what you could make out thanks to the cut-outs of the pumpkin, the knife was long, nearly piercing the other side.

Why would someone—

“Boo!”

A scream tore from your throat at the booming voice behind you.

Spinning around, you nearly toppled over before Nick managed to catch you by the elbow.

“What the fu—” Your son looked up at you with wide eyes, “—dge?!”

“Sorry.” Nick smiled uncomfortably, “It was your son’s idea.”

Your eyes danced between the two of them as your heart began to settle down. You hadn’t even heard the hum of an engine, let alone their footsteps as they came up the walkway.

“What are you doing outside, Mommy?” Louie asked, watching you curiously.

It was then that you remembered, too, why you were outside. You stepped in front of the pumpkin with the knife sticking out, grateful Lou had yet to see it.

“I was excited to you, baby.” You told him, ruffling his hair. He slapped your hands away playfully.

“Hey, why don’t you go inside & get a fruit snack, I’ll be in in a moment, I just need to talk to Principle Bentley.”

Louie charged forward. You smiled wryly, watching his small legs amble up the stairs & into the house.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Your kid is hard to say no to.” Nick apologized.

“No, that’s okay.” You waved it away, “I’m just relieved it was you & not someone else.”

“Who else would it be?” Nick asked, not realizing the dangerous ground he was treading.

“Maybe the person who stabbed my pumpkin.” You said, stepping out of the way to reveal the petty crime.

“Oh, shit.” Nick eyed the pumpkin on the bottom step, “Who’d you piss off?”

Of course you knew it was a joke but you didn’t laugh. In fact, it did the opposite. You frowned, staring at the deadly weapon.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, I was only kidding.” Nick reached for you but you stepped away.

“It’s—it’s fine. Forget about it.” Bending over, you snatched the knife by its handle before yanking it out. “Just me being fucking paranoid again.” You mumbled but Nick had heard you.

You were climbing back up to porch when he caught up to you, blocking the way to your door with a concerned look on his face, “_____, I’m sorry, truly I am.”

You stared at him, unsure of his words.

“Are you really thinking someone did this to you on purpose?”

His question unsettled you. You shifted from foot to foot as you avoided his eyes. You could feel your breathing begin to quicken, on the edge of hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey.” Nick closed the distance between the two of you, placing his hands on your shoulders gently, “Talk to me. If you’re really concerned then we should call someone about it.”

“No!” You rushed out, “No. It’s nothing. It’s just me being paranoid, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

You tried to go around him but Nick blocked you once more.

“I’ll get out of your way, I promise, but…I’ve never seen you like this before. This…scared. If something is happening, I want to help.”

“You can’t help.” You sighed defeatedly. You were just so tired, so tired of looking over your shoulder, of worrying about if & when he would find you. You just wanted to live a happy, normal life with your son.

“I can try.” Nick captured your eyes, “If you let me.”

As you stared back at him, seeing the genuine care for you, the same look you had seen once before in the last man you trusted, you felt yourself soften. Nick wasn’t him. Nick was a good person. Unlike your past, he wanted to help you. And so, for the first time in five years, you let someone in.

It was nearly 5’o’clock when Lou took off from the dinner table to go wash his hands. Nick helped you clear the table of dirty dishes. You thanked him for his help before placing the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, this ex of yours.” Nick began, “You think he’s found you?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head, peering out a window over your kitchen sink, “I’ve been living in fear of him finding us for so long that anything remotely out of the ordinary makes me think it’s him.”

“Well, I can almost assure you that it’s not.” Nick kept his voice low as Lou entered the main room.

“Go ahead & watch some cartoons.” You told him, to which Lou very happily obliged. Once the TV sounded from the living room, you turned to Nick.

“How can you assure me that?”

After Nick made his claim to want to help you, you had told him everything. Everything. Not a detail spared. You weren’t explicit in reciting your history with your dreaded ex, but you detailed enough to get the point across.

“I called down to the station.” Nick revealed.

Your eyes widened, immediately questioning if you were wrong to trust him, but Nick raised his hand in reassurance, already predicting your reaction, “I didn’t give any names, I promise. I just asked if they had gotten any complaints about pumpkins or the like being vandalized. You know Brenden Brennen?”

You did. No one forgot an unfortunate name like that. He was a local teenager, known to be trouble.

“Apparently Brenden & some of his friends have been going around scaring people. Throwing poppers into driveways, jumping out of bushes, prank calling. I guess even Stephanie Romero’s garage got tagged with fake blood.”

You nodded, understanding where he was going with it all.

“It’s Halloween. It’s a spooky night. Kids are just getting up to no good, that’s all. Things are bound to go bump in the night.”

It did little relieve you but you accepted the likelihood that it was Brenden who stabbed your pumpkin.

“But what about Mr. Acosta’s truck? I mean, Isabella’s right. No one in town, not even Brenden Brennen, would be stupid enough to mess with him, let alone that truck he holds near & dear to his heart.”

Nick chuckled at that but shrugged, “Nothing so far as far as I know. But Mr. Acosta is getting up there. Way, waaaay up there. I hear his daughter complain every now & then that she swears he’s got Alzheimer’s, says he’s been losing track of things a lot lately.”

“A truck is quite a big thing to lose track of.” You muttered.

“Yeah, it is.” Nick nodded in agreement, “But think of it this way. From the sounds of it, your ex has money, & lots of it. If he were here, he wouldn’t be breaking into a barn to steal a beat-up old truck. He’d probably be driving through town in one of those nice sports cars that rarely come through here. And I say ‘rarely’ because folk like that stick out like a sore thumb. So, if he were here, someone would’ve noticed him by now.”

Everything he was saying was making sense, & you knew it to be true. You sighed, smiling, feeling like a fool.

“I just want it to end.” You admitted, your voice soft as you stared at Lou on the other end of the room, “I don’t want to live in fear for the rest of my life. I want Louie to have a normal childhood, not one that he looks back on wondering why his mom was always crying in her sleep or looking over her shoulder every day.”

“Hey.” Nick approached you, his hand on your lower back in comfort, “You have done so much for him. He knows how much you love him, he sees that. And he loves you, too. It may not be the childhood you want for him but it’s better than the one he could’ve had if you hadn’t run away, isn’t it?”

“Oh, god.” You marveled horrifically at the thought. You never thought too long, if ever, about what it would have been like raising Lou back home, with him always around.

“See?” Nick consoled you, “You’re giving him the childhood he deserves. As long as that kid there has you, he’ll be alright.”

You nodded, peering up Nick, “Thank you. For everything.”

He grinned sheepishly at that, shrugging, “I’m here for you, _____. For as long as you need me.”

It had been a long time since you felt like you found someone you could trust. You were happy Nick was the first.

Surprising even yourself, you raised onto your tiptoes & placed a kiss on his cheek. You watched as Nick blushed at the affection. When you pulled away, you two stared at one another before laughing lightly.

“Are you going to be my Dad, now?”

Both of you jumped apart as Lou stared at the two of you from the other side of the kitchen.

“What was that, buddy?” Nick played off your sons question as you tucked your smile into your teeth.

“No, baby, Principle Bentley was just helping Mommy.”

Lou made a questionable face but moved on, “When are we going trick-or-treating?”

“Oh, um.” You eyed the clock on the stove. It was nearly 6. “Any moment! Go get a jacket on & we’ll head out.”’

Lou began to run down the hallway before he stopped to stare at Nick, “Are you coming with us, Principle Bentley?”

“Oh, I, uh, we haven’t discussed—”

“Yes.” You answered for him, watching as Lou broke out into a smile in response, “Now go get a jacket, mister!”

Once Lou was out of sight, you turned towards Nick, “It’s probably not the date you had in mind but if you’d like, Lou & I would love to have you join us.”

Nick grinned that dimpled boyish grin of his, “Then I’d love to.”

Kids ran amok throughout the neighborhood as you & Nick walked side by side on the sidewalk, watching as Lou raced from house to house, filling his plastic pumpkin candy bowl to the brim. Every now & then, a candy or two would spill out as your son ran happily between yards.

Lou had wanted you to dress up but you had forgotten to actually get yourself a costume. So, the witches hat you had purchased earlier that day was all you had for a costume. It was enough to satisfy Lou, though the same couldn’t be said for Nick. You ended up having to use some of your own makeup to draw a clown look onto your boss’s face. He looked ridiculous, but you supposed that was fitting.

“He’s pretty great.” Nick commented, watching your son compliment another ghoul’s costume.

“Yeah, he is.” You felt pride.

“Ya know,” Nick began, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “I obviously don’t know anything about your ex except from what you’ve told me—which is all bad, bad stuff—but I hope you know that your son is yours. He’s not his. Even if he’s made up of half of him. Who he grows up to be, that’ll be all you.”

The thought warmed you. That was all you could really ask for.

The two of you watched as Lou ran down the stairs of another house before running up to you, practically slamming into your legs.

“Oof, careful, babe.” You giggled. Lou grinned up at you, holding out a piece of candy.

“Your favorite.” A Smartie was perched between his fingers.

You accepted the candy, smiling down at you son, “Thank you, Louie.”

Then he was off again, more candy spilling out behind him.

“He has his eyes.” You shared. Nick peered at you as you continued. “At first, that terrified me, ya know, when he grew into them. So much of his father there. So much of…”

You still couldn’t say his name.

“But you’re right.” You sniffled, the chilly autumn air beginning to make your nose run, “Louie will be nothing like him, even if he resembles him. He’ll be soft, gentle, kind, so full of life & wonder & happiness. All the things he is now. All the things his father isn’t.”

The three of you crossed the street once Lou finished up at the last house on the corner.

“You’re a really good mom, _____.” Nick commented, “Louie is in good hands, your hands.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, sharing a smile with him, though his smile appeared wider thanks to the red lipstick stretched across his lips & cheeks. You giggled openly, unable to take him seriously.

“What?” Nick widened his eyes in feigned offense, “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to draw a decent clown face.”

As you two laughed amongst yourselves, someone suddenly shouldered you, practically taking you off your feet.

“Hey, watch it!” Nick caught you as you stumbled into a neighbor’s yard.

You followed his line of sight, staring at the back of what you assumed to be a grown man as he stalked down the sidewalk, his hood pulled over his head. Nick grumbled in annoyance as he pulled you upright but you only remained staring after the man. But he never looked back & before you knew it, he had turned a corner & disappeared from sight.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“N-nothing.” You faked a smile, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to him.

“Prick should watch where he’s going. Had we been one of these kids we’d’ve been flattened.”

Nick continued walking down the sidewalk, following behind as Lou continued his night of trick-or-treating. You looked over your shoulder once more & were startled by what you saw.

At the end of the block, where the man had disappeared off to, there he stood. At least, you assumed it was the same man, standing eerily still just staring at you. But you weren’t sure if it was you he was staring at. He was wearing a mask resembling a hockey mask, his face completely covered. There was no way to tell just exactly where he was looking but you felt it… you felt his eyes staring right back into your own.

“_____!” Nick hollered your name. You spun back around, realizing they had moved a couple houses down, “Coming?”

Looking back to the man, you were disheartened to find him gone, the corner barren of anyone taller than five feet.

Frowning, you caught up to Nick.

“Everything okay?”

You weren’t sure, but you reminded yourself of everything Nick had said earlier. If he was here, you would’ve known by now. And like he also said, it was Halloween, there was bound to be scares in the night.

Lou was slouched against Nick’s chest as he carried him back to your house. He was already half-way asleep, the excitement & running around having finally caught up to him. You carried his pumpkin basket full of candy, leading the way back. Once you reached the steps leading up the pathway to your porch, you peered up at you house, ensuring that nothing looked amiss.

“He’s gonna have one hell of a candy hangover.” Nick joked softly.

You smiled back him, “Thank you again for carrying him all this way.”

“It’s no problem.” He assured you, carrying your nearly asleep son up the stairs to your porch. You unlocked the door to your house, swinging it open so Nick could bring Louie inside.

“Where’s his bedroom?” Nick whispered. You pointed to your hallway, “Last door on the left.”

Locking the door behind you, you placed your keys & Louie’s basket of candy onto a counter in the kitchen before trailing down the hallway to his room. Inside, you found Nick gently tucking your son into bed. He was well asleep at that point. You smiled elatedly at the sight. It was a sight you had never seen before: a grown man putting your Lou to bed. It brought you more comfort than you thought possible.

Nick tiptoed out of the room & you pulled Lou’s door closed until only a crack was left.

Following Nick back into the main room, you grinned up at him, “You’re my hero.”

“Oh?” Nick raised a single brow, “Why’s that?”

“He adores you.” You nodded, “I remember after his first day of school he talked about how the principle came to his class to play games with the kids & get to know them. Of course, he doesn’t understand yet that you’re my boss, so he spoke about you like I had never met you before. You’ve made an impression on him ever since.”

“I could say the same thing about him.” Nick returned.

“Thank you again, for everything.”

Nick approached you, smiling down at you, “This better mean you’ll stop referring to me as Principle Bentley at work.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at that, “We’ll see.”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously but chuckled nonetheless, “Well, I better get outta your hair, let you get some rest.”

You nodded, seeing him to the door. When you unlocked it, Nick stepped out, but before either of you could verbalize a parting, he turned back to you, “And thanks for the date. I enjoyed it.”

“Me, too.” You admitted, unable to hide your smile.

Then Nick crossed back to you, leaning down slightly to kiss your cheek, returning your affection from earlier, “I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you.”

Closing the door as he descended your stairs, you relocked the door before finally kicking your shoes off. It had been a long day. You were looking forward to winding down in bed with your recent Kindle purchase before dozing off. Turning off the lights in the front room, you grabbed a couple pieces of candy from Lou’s basket before retreating to your room, sure to leave the door cracked this time now that Lou was home. Unlike when you closed the door for your nap earlier, you never kept your door closed as Lou slept, always wanting to hear if any sounds came from his room.

Getting undressed & into pj’s, you slipped under the covers of your bed, pulling your Kindle out from your nightstand. Settling against your pillow, you began reading the text but it wasn’t long before you felt your eyelids begin to droop. Then, before you knew it, you slipped into slumber.

A floorboard creaking somewhere in your house woke you with a start. It was dark in your bedroom as you wiped the sleep from your eyes. You moaned at your stiff muscles, having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position for your neck. Your eyes flashed to your nightstand. The clock flashed 2:24 a.m.

Your mouth was dry again, & you had forgotten to bring a glass of water to bed. Slipping out of bed, you exited your room. You stopped in the hallway to peek into Louie’s room. He slept soundlessly still in his bed. Closing his door most of the way once more, you trailed quietly down your hallway to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you approached the cabinets by the sink. You had pulled one open, preparing to reach for a glass, but a sight outside the window above your sink caught your eye. And when you realized what you were looking at, your breath caught in your throat. Nick’s car. It was still parked out front. But more horrifying than that was what lied just beyond it. Across the street, parked in front of your neighbor’s house, was Mr. Acosta’s beloved Chevy.

Before you had time to react, a hand fisting itself in your hair yanked you backwards. A scream about ripped from your throat, but a gloved hand quickly clamped over your mouth before it could.

Panicked tears erupted from your eyes as you felt yourself being dragged backwards, the soles of your slippers failing to catch themselves on the hardwood. You struggled against the strong grasp of the arm that was wrapped around your middle as they yanked you back down the hallway towards your bedroom.

You didn’t need to see them to know who it was. All day, your paranoia had been trying to warn you but you didn’t listen, & then when you did start to listen to it, Nick had reasoned it out of you.

The force threw you onto your bed & you bounced haphazardly atop it before the room flooded with light.

All of the nightmares you had had in the last five years were occurring before your very eyes. And the man that caused them was glaring at you through the slits of a hockey mask. The same eyes your son had.

“Boo.” If the eyes of your ex wasn’t enough of a give away as to who wore the spooky mask, the hollowed out voice behind it was.

He was here.

Rafe had found you.

It took all off your strength & will to not scream in that very instance. Lou was sleeping safe & sound less than twenty feet away from you, totally unaware of the dangers in his home, you wanted it to remain that way. But damn it all to hell if you didn’t fear for your life at that very second.

Fear racked your body & panic ensnared your heart as Rafe Cameron, the ex you had ran out on with his unborn child in your tummy, stood before you.

Tense silence filled the room, save for the sound of your shuddering breaths. Tears blurred your vision as you stared wide-eyed in horror.

Rafe was breathing heavily, his chest moving almost in perfect time with your own. Your eyes fell to his hand, the glint of a familiar looking knife catching in the light.

He had been here all along. From the beginning. The cat store, Mr. Acosta’s truck, Lou’s stabbed pumpkin, & the man in the mask who stared at you on the street. All of it Rafe. All of it your past finally catching up to you.

“Rafe…” You shakily cried.

He cocked his head, the mask only adding more fuel to your nightmare. And though the mask kept his face hidden, you knew well enough that the man behind the mask was carrying a face full of fury. It was a face you never forgot.

He raised a single gloved finger then, wiggling it slowly at you. Then he brought that same finger to the mouth of the mask. Shh, he was telling you.

Tears burst from your eyes as you bit your lip to keep from whimpering out loud.

Don’t make him angry, do as he says. Lou is depending on you.

But images of Lou sleeping in his bed just down the hallway flooded your mind. Rafe was blocking the door. You wouldn’t have a chance to slip by him & race down there, & even if you did, you’d lead him right to your son. If you did that, there was no saying what he would do next, but you knew Rafe Cameron was capable of deadly things, & you were determined to keep your son ignorant to that.

It took every amount of restraint you could muster up not to run for your son, to shield him from the devil that snuck into your home. You kept a baseball bat hidden beneath your pillows. It had always been there, & only on rare occasions in the past did you feel the need to bring it out when something went bump in the night. But those bumps always turned out to be nothing. This wasn’t nothing. It was time to really use it.

Rafe only remained standing before you, his tall & solid frame filling the space of your room like a sleep paralysis dream. Though he wore a thick jacket to keep warm, you could see that he had grown over the years. He had always been tall, towering over you, but he was slender as well. Not anymore, though. It was obvious that he had gotten into the habit of working, adding muscles to his already destructive strength.

Swallowing the scream that desperately wanted to erupt from you, you kept your voice hush as you spoke, needing to distract him with your words as you very slowly, very subtly inched your fingers towards your pillows.

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question, you, especially as well as he, both knew why he was there. But you didn’t care. Just keep his mind distracted.

But he said nothing, just shook his head once.

You breathed heavily & sharply, your fingers managing to have slid under your pillow without drawing his attention, desperately seeking out the cool, metal touch of the bat.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Your voice shook as you spoke, “You should’ve let me go.”

But Rafe exhaled heavily at that.

A relieved, quiet gasp parted your lips when your fingers finally found the bat, fiercely gripping the handle of the weapon.

Dropping your eyes to the open door behind him, you frowned, “Lou?”

Rafe turned around at that, expecting to see your son standing in the doorway, but it was only a fake-out.

Gritting your teeth, you yanked the baseball bat & raised it above you, quickly rushing to your feet to stand atop your bed.

You let out a war cry as you swung the bat downwards, aiming straight for Rafe’s skull. But he spun around in time to duck. The full weight of your swing made you stumble & one of your feet slipped off the bed. You clambered harshly to the wooden floor, your grip on the bat still tight, but Rafe snatched you by the back of your neck, ripping you upwards. You blindly swung the bat a second time but you felt a force catch the other end before tearing it from your grasp.

“No!” You cried out as Rafe threw against your dresser, a picture of you & Lou toppling over in the impact.

You threw yourself back, crab-crawling backwards as Rafe marched towards you, now your bat in one hand, his knife in the other.

“Rafe, don’t!” You screeched once you felt the wall against your back. But he only continued moving towards you. As he did, he tucked his knife away & raised the bat.

Fear choked you as you watched your own weapon of defense prepared to be used on you. You raised your arms, readying yourself to protect your face & head from the blow. Your eyes were squeezed shut, waiting for the whisper of air as the bat swung before reaching you…but it never came.

Breathing fearfully, you fluttered your eyes open.

The room was empty. Rafe was nowhere in sight.

“Lou.” Your voice shook with the realization.

You threw yourself forward onto your feet, getting ready to race after Rafe, but just before you reached the doorway, Rafe appeared again filling the space with his large frame. But he wasn’t alone.

To your horror, he had another before him, on their knees.

Duct tape was wrapped securely around Nick’s face, his mouth & most of his nose covered to suppress his grunts. His forehead was swollen & bleeding, evident of him having been attacked by a deadly force. Nick was unable to fight back, as his hands too were securely taped before him.

A shocked gasp left you as you backed up, taking in the nightmarish sight.

Rafe entered the room, pushing Nick forward until he fell face-down onto your floor. Nick groaned on impact before struggling to roll himself over onto his back. It was then that you noticed his legs were taped at the ankle.

Fresh tears breached your eyes as you peered at one of your only friends in the neighborhood. You made to move closer, to shield Nick from Rafe but as you did, you felt the cool touch of your bat catch the underside of your chin. Your eyes trailed the length of it until it led you to Rafe’s hand & arm, thus his face.

He shook his head once.

Shaking, you backed away as Rafe stepped closer.

Nick, the whole time, trying to speak but his words were unable to be made out behind the tape. His flashing between you & your ex with a mixture of fear & anger.

“Don’t hurt him.” You begged, “He has nothing to do with this. Please, just let him go, I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Rafe sighed at that, his head cocking at your plea.

“Please, Rafe.” You whimpered, snot running from your nose, “I’ll do anything.”

His silence only added to your terror. He wanted you to suffer.

“You’ll watch.” Was all he said. And before you could absorb what he had said, Rafe moved to stand over Nick & raised the bat.

“No!” But your scream died in your throat as Rafe brought the bat down on Nick’s skull.

Cries & choked sobs erupted from you as you watched on in horror as Rafe repeatedly bashed Nick’s face & skull in. You were forced to look away when blood spurted across your face & chest as Nick quickly became unrecognizable.

You covered your mouth as hot tears fell from your eyes & over your hands. Your room was filled with the gruesome sounds of the bat repeatedly making impact with what was once Nick. Squelching of brain matter & the crushing of bones filled your years & you felt bile rise in your throat. A pool of blood threatened to cake the soles of your feet as it grew bigger, forcing you to pull your knees to your chest.

The ghastly sounds stopped after another minute & by then you were numb to everything that was happening. Your body still shook, your mouth hung open in a silent scream, but you were no longer crying. Just staring dizzily at your headboard.

A metallic thud sounded & your eyes betrayed you as you sought the sound out. Your bat rolled towards you, all of it covered in a deep, thick red color, chunks of brain, flesh, & bone texturizing it.

A gag forced it’s way from your mouth & you crawled away from the monstrous sight, unable to look at what Rafe had done. But as you did, you felt Rafe eyeing you from the opposite side of your room. Before you could react, Rafe climbed on top of your, ensnaring you by the back of your head as he dragged you back over the bed. You thought he would’ve stopped there, but your horrors were only reignited when you dropped to the floor & were dragged into the hallway. Towards Louie’s room.

“No!” You yelped but Rafe quickly swung you around to his front, covering your mouth. You smelled the scent of blood on his glove as he kept you quiet, knowing good & well that Nick’s blood was now caking your face.

You fought against Rafe as he yanked you closer to your sons room, terrified that he would do to him what he had just done to Nick. At this point, you didn’t care if Louie woke up, if he woke to the sight & sound of you crying & screaming & fighting against the man from your dreams, thus shattering his childhood. You just needed him to run. Run as far as he could as you once did.

Once in the room, Rafe forced you to face your sleeping son, none the wiser to the danger approaching. You whimpered & thrashed against Rafe, trying every which way to elbow him or knock your head back into his but his strength greatly outmatched yours. It always had.

Rafe paused in the center of the room, crushing your back against your front as he secured you around the waist. He removed his hand from your mouth, but before you could scream a blood-curdling cry to alert your son, Rafe had swiftly produced the knife he carried & pressed the briny edge of it to your throat.

The plastic of the mask moved against your ear, “Don’t scream. Or he’ll scream.”

The threat was apparent. Your horrors were coming true. Everything you had fought for for so long were crumbling around you.

“Don’t.” You gasped, desperately reaching to cling to Rafe’s arm.

Your plea only forced the Rafe to press the knife harsher against your throat. Even you could feel your heartbeat pulsing against it. One swipe & Rafe would end your life before surely ending that of your sons. In a last ditch effort to save your sons life, you revealed the truth that Rafe needed to know.

“He’s your son.” Sobs racked your body as the words parted your lips. “Our son.”

Rafe stiffened behind you.

“Are you going to tell him?” Your mother asked you as she helped you pack one of your go-bags for the great escape.

“No.” You responded despondently, “If he knows I’m on the run with his unborn kid, he’ll stop at nothing, he’ll hurt anyone I love just to get to me.” You knew good & well that he would still do that, but he wouldn’t be in as such a rush otherwise.

Your mother nodded in understanding. But her hands shook fearfully as she folded your clothes before handing them to you.

“Are you going to go through with the pregnancy?” It was a question you asked yourself every day. “I love you, baby, I only want you safe. A kid will slow you down.”

“I know.” You muttered in agreement, “I haven’t decided yet. I just need to get away first before I do anything.”

“You’d deliver the baby alone.” She commented. Another thought that kept you awake at night. “We wouldn’t be there to hold your hand.”

You nodded, tears threatening to fall. Though you were still on the fence about whether or not you’d fulfill the pregnancy, you were leaning towards terminating it. Being on the run was no life for a child. And, your mother was right, the kid would only slow you down if Rafe ever caught up to you.

Your mother’s quiet sobs drew your attention. She had a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide her cries.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She peered at you through her tears, “We never wanted this life for you.”

You hugged your mother, & she you. Tightly, lovingly. You burrowed your face into her neck, savoring the form of affection. You didn’t know how long it would be until you ever felt it again, if ever.

“There’s always adoption.”

Rafe had tucked the knife away, but kept you quiet by grasping the column of your throat, your air restricted. He continued holding you just like that as he slowly approached your son, his son. He stood just beside Louie’s bed, his knees pressed against the bedframe as he leaned over to peer at the child’s serene, sleeping face.

You felt as Rafe shuddered before you, his arm outstretched with you on the other end as he kept you at distance from your son.

“My son…” Rafe’s voice was filled with wonder.

Tears continued to fall from your eyes, dripping onto Rafe’s wrist where the skin was exposed between the glove & sleeve of his jacket.

“Our son.” He whispered, but as he did, the grip on your throat tightened. Black dots filled your vision. Rafe turned away from Lou then, facing you head on, his eyes blazing behind the mask.

You kept him from me.

His fury was palpable. You tried to breathe, to speak, but Rafe only continued to claw his fingers into your throat.

Then he began to back you out of the room fast. Your were unable to catch your grounding as your feet tangled beneath you. Before you knew it, you were back in the hallway, your back pressed harshly against a wall as Rafe used the wall to lift you off the floor, your toes wiggling.

You latched your hands onto his arm, using every bit of strength you had left to try & fight him off.

Rafe glared at you hard through the slits of his mask, his eyes red, watering, filled with betrayal, contempt, & murderous intent.

“We could have been a family.” Rafe breathed out harshly, his grip tightening more than you thought possible. Your vision swayed.

“You took that from me.” Rafe spit from behind the mask.

“Plea—” You choked, the lining of your vision beginning to darken. Your muscles were loosening. Death awaited you. But Lou needed you.

Then Rafe brought his other hand to your throat & squeezed. You thrashed weakly until you felt your consciousness begin to slip. Rafe’s hands around your neck were the last thing you felt before you stopped fighting, your body going limp.

“He’s my family now.”

A cry tore from your throat as doctors & nurses alike rushed around you. A stinging, hot pain shot up your spine as you felt your insides contort & cramp within you. Your legs were splayed open, blood staining the white sheets that kept you from seeing what happening down below.

“She’s losing blood!” A voice yelled.

“Get the baby out!” Another responded.

“We’re gonna lose both!”

Tears erupted from your eyes, blurring your vision as you clung to the sheets of the hospital bed, your throat raw from screaming.

Another pinch & you screamed again, sweat coating your face.

And then cries filled the room, Lively cries of a baby having been born. You collapsed against the mattress, your body weak.

“Baby’s out, we got him, he’s okay!”

You felt your vision go in & out, but you reached your hand out blindly in search of your child.

“It’s a boy.” A soft voice neared you. Cries continued to fill the room, but they grew closer to you.

“It’s your boy.” A nurse appeared in your vision as it swayed.

In her arms, she held something small as it wriggled about in her arms. A single hand stuck out in search of something.

Then your fingers touched, & the small yet mighty grip of the child clung to your index finger.

A weak smile crossed your lips, “Louie.”

But your hand fell as you felt your heart rate slow.

“We’re losing her!”

“Louie.” You whispered, his name like a dream on your tongue.

A gasp choked you awake & you shot forward. Tears coated your cheeks & you were breathing heavily. You winced at the burning, raw sensation within your throat.

The room, your room, was filled with morning sunlight. Your eyes flashed fearfully around the room. You were still in your home.

Lou!

Launching yourself forward, you halted to peer at the floor near the foot of your bed. It was empty. No body, no blood, no bat.

You frowned. It wasn’t a dream, though. You touched your fingers to your neck, the skin tender as you did.

He had been here, he had!

Racing out of your room, you stumbled down the hallway to your son’s room, “Louie!” You screeched, despite the pain it caused you as you did, your throat burning in response.

But your fears were instilled as you charged into your son’s room to find his bed empty.

“Louie, baby!” You cried, retreating from his room & tumbling down the hallway, “Baby, where are you?!”

At the mouth of the hallway, you halted, eyeing your son at the counter bar. His back was to you as he ate pieces of candy from his pumpkin basket.

“Louie!” You released a relieved cry & approached him. But before you could reach him, another figure appeared in the corner of your eye.

Rafe rested against a counter opposite your son, a mug of coffee in his hands. He was barren of any mask or clothes from the night prior. He grinned wryly at you, challenging you to attempt anything.

You eyed him warily, furiously as you continued moving slowly towards your son.

Lou looked back at you then, a chocolatey smile gracing his youthful features.

“Morning, Mommy!” He greeted in his cheerful tune.

Dropping your gaze from Rafe, you peered at your son. Closing the distance, you hugged him to your chest, crying into his hair as you kissed him repeatedly.

“Don’t be mad. Daddy said I could have candy for breakfast.”

You shook against your son as you raised your eyes to that of your ex’s.

“That’s right.” Rafe smirked, crossing the kitchen to where the two of you were. You pressed Lou closer against you, your hands gripping him tightly, ready to shield him from Rafe.

“And you can have it for lunch & dinner & dessert.” Rafe grinned down at your son, his son.

“What the fuck do you want?” You sneered, uncaring if Lou heard the fear in your voice.

Rafe eyed you then, “What we all should want.”

He peered at your son then, “To be a family.”

The thought unnerved you.

“If you don’t get out of my house, I’ll—”

“Careful.” Rafe cut you off firmly, before casting his eyes to an object on the counter only inches away from his fingers. The knife.

“Sorry, buddy. Mommy had a bad night.”

You felt as Louie stared up at you then, “Was it the bad man from your dreams again?”

Rafe’s eyes stared coldly into your own.

“Yes, baby.” You replied, your voice shaky.

“But you’re okay now.” Louie attempting to soothe you as he fingered your hair, “Daddy is here to protect you.”

His innocence, still intact as grateful as you were, only made you fearful of when Rafe would surely snuff it out.

“That’s right, Louie.” Rafe peered between the two of you, “Daddy’s home, & we have a lot of catching up to do.”

this is 7/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

fuck. that's all i have to say.

big thank you to @namelesslosers for making this fucking AWESOME request, i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it, please be sure to share your thoughts w me.

as always! drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in my ask box. this is one doozy of a dark fic that has me on edge just waiting for your feedback. so please provide some.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @jsrafesgirl @bunnycvnts @ditzyzombiesblog

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #something wicked this way comes

222 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 5 months

Text

LATE NIGHTS AND STAR-CROSSED MARGINS

Jason Todd is the most beautiful boy in your lecture. Luckily, fate lands you a seat next to him

college!au, fluff, pining, happy ending

——————————————————————

This has to be some form of epic karma.

You’ve never been late to a lecture before. At least, not this late, where you’re sure Professor Levine will not hesitate to slam the two double doors in his face when you eventually make it there.

You’d overslept horrifically. After a night spent with your roommates over board games and shitty wine in cracked mugs, you’d been too tired to remember to turn on your alarms. You didn’t regret it. It was hard to find time to spend together, and even if it was just a couple of hours of UNO, it was nice to catch up. Unfortunately, the drinks your friend Wendy had kept pouring into your mug had lulled you into the best sleep you had in a while. Which, unfortunately, was interrupted by a confused knock on your door, a concerned friend wondering why you were still in bed so late.

Now, without a shower and the outfit you’d worn yesterday, you were practically running to the hall to try to make it in time. Feverishly checking your phone, watching the minutes go by, as you finally stop outside the doors.

You pause for a second. Do you knock? Just walk in? Professor Levine wasn’t necessarily strict. He’d never kicked anyone out before, but you’d never seen him angry. Would he even be angry? You didn’t know. God, you were being so dramatic.

You push open the door. Immediately, a couple dozen eyes lock on you, dishevelled and anxious at the door. You could die. Really and truly, just drop down on the floor and die. You glance at the professor. He just nods slightly, and you take that as a sign you’re in the clear. You start walking to your seat, relief flooding your veins, to see that it’s taken.

Your second dosage of karma. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve such cruel treatment. You sat in the same seat every say. Far enough front the front that you didn't get picked on, and far enough from the back that it didn’t look like you were hiding from Levine. You quickly scan the room and see the only spare seat is right at the very back. Right next to Jason Todd.

You knew who he was. Everybody in your literature class did, everybody at your university did. He was six foot tall, with hair that curled perfectly over his brown eyes, and a body that looked like it had been carved by the gods. As if that wasn’t enough, he was also nice. Boys that attractive were usually paired with a big ego and an obnoxious personality, but he had neither. He kept to himself, was polite and respectful. Jason Todd was like every guy you’d spent hours reading about and analysing for your English classes, the perfect man in every way.

Which, of course, meant he was also horrifically out of your league.

You take the awkwardly long walk to the back. You drop your things on the floor, and sit down. He flashes you a small smile and your knees feel weak. You hope the one you give him back makes you look normal. You fiddle around with your things, bring out your laptop and books, and sigh.

Crisis averted. You made it in one piece. You tap the power on button, turning your laptop to face you. Wait a little bit. And nothing.

It's out of charge.

You tap furiously on the button, as if it will somehow make something happen.

“Fucking shit.” You whisper, digging in your bag for the charger, that you know is not there.

You feel eyes on you, and you look to your side. Jason is watching you, an amused smile gracing his lips. You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you look away.

“Sorry, I just- I forgot my charger. And my laptops out”

He hums under his breath, low and deep in his chest. “Not your day, is it?”

“No, it’s really not. It’s where I take all my notes.” You slump in your chair, rubbing a hand over your face.

He slides a piece of paper over to you. “It’s okay. Professor Levine won’t call on you if you sit this far back. He takes offence. Makes him think you’re avoiding him.”

“Surely that would make him want to call on us.”

Jason shrugs. “He’s different like that.”

You huff. You open your anthology. You’re studying Keats, one of your favourites. Despite the constant reminders that your chosen degree would get you nowhere, you love literature, evident by the copious amount of annotations you’d done. It wasn’t part of the syllabus but you thought it was fun.

A hand reaches over, hovering over your book. Jason’s, bigger thank yours, with a large watch around its wrist. Not that you were checking.

“Can I look?”

You nod. You try not to watch his deft fingers slip between the pages (try not to think about where else they could slip) and write meaningless things on the sheet of paper he’d given you. You can’t focus on the lecture, only your need for his approval of your work.

“This is incredible. You did this all on your own?” His eyes don't leave the paper as he continues to flick through.

You laugh nervously, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of free time.”

“Oh, I love this one.”

He points to Modern Love. You smile, nodding excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s my favourite! I don��t know why, but there's something so cool about one of the best Romantic poets ever writing a poem about how people put so much pressure on romance, you know? Especially in the era he was in.”

You mouth shuts. You laugh nervously.

“Sorry. I'm rambling.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute.”

You don’t have time to try and dignify a response through the shiver that runs down your spine, because Professor Levine clears his throat loudly from across the room. You look over and he’s staring right at the two of you (who are considerably closer than you were when you’d sat down).

“Is there something more interesting you two are discussing? Like perhaps how to show up to my lectures on time?”

Jason snorts and you duck your head. “Sorry, professor.”

The rest of the lecture is spent like something out of a high school classroom. He scribbles notes in the margin on your paper, and you draw little stars across the page. You’ve not spoken before, but you spend the whole time whispering to each other. He shows you his favourite poems, and you pretend they aren’t yours too.

It’s a shame, really. Deep down, you wish you didn’t get along with him so well. If not for the way he looks right at you when he speaks, breath fanning over your face as he leans down to say something, but for the fact you’ll never speak again. The two of you will pack your things and part ways, and you’ll spend the next lesson in your usual seat with a fully charged laptop, thinking about him. He’ll just be another story your friends will drag out of you over a glass of wine, the day when you sat with the sexiest boy on campus.

The lecture ends, and the two of you leave side by side. You avoid eye contact with your professor and pause outside the door.

“Thank you for the paper. And letting me sit next to you.”

Your hands awkwardly grasp at the straps of your bag. Of course today of all days you’d look so messy. You’re not wearing makeup, and you know your shirt is wrinkled. He looks effortless in a shirt that curls over his biceps oh, so perfectly.

“It’s no problem.”

Silence spills between the two of you. You nod once.

“Well. Bye, Jason.”

You turn to walk away, but you don’t make it far. A hand grabs your arm. You look back, and it's Jason, all smiling and nervous. He drops your arm, and shoots you another one of his boyish grins.

“Do you want to get some coffee? We can go over our notes. Get you back on Levine's good side.”

You should probably say no. Boys like Jason are the kind that could ruin you.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

—————————————————————-

AUTHORS NOTE

my first oneshot!! I hope you all like it, and plz leave requests or if u want a part two 🩷

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #Jason todd oneshot #oneshot #fluff

329 notes · View notes

sickly-qt · 1 year

Text

Finn Sick at Night

Woah! I said I would put out a fic and I actually did it? Never thought I would see it happen. Anyway, this is the first fic i was able to get together, so bear with me if it’s a bit rough. I’m still getting back into the swing of things.

I hope you guys enjoy some sick Finn :)

~~~

“Hello?” Finn said groggily, rubbing his eyes as he lifted his head from his pillow..

“Hey,” Drew replied, “You’re coming over tonight right?” Finn could hear the sizzle of food frying in a pan on the other end of the phone.

He stared at the clock on his bedside table waiting for his eyes to adjust. 5:27. Shit, he had overslept.

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, I got out of work a little late. Give me like 15 minutes and I'll be right over.” Finn sat up in bed and ran his hand through his hair.

There was a pause and Finn waited to see if Drew had picked up on his white lie.

“Okay, take your time. I’m making dinner, it should be ready when you get here.”

“That sounds really good, Love. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I love you too, babes. I’ll see you soon.” Drew hung up and Finn sighed, rubbing his eyes.

He had left work early after he had bolted out of a meeting to stare into the toilet for a solid 10 minutes, waiting for the reappearance of his meager breakfast that would never actually come. After getting home he had promptly passed out and nearly slept through his plans with Drew.

He was feeling a bit better, less nauseous and more worn out and a little cold.

Finn pushed himself out of bed and got dressed, planning on telling Drew that he had changed before he left work and headed out for Drew’s.

“Hey, Sweets. There’s food on the stove if you’re hungry.” Drew said over the back of the couch when Finn let himself into her apartment.

“I’m not.” He mumbled, slowly kicking off his shoes and peeling off his jacket. “I’m honestly just really tired, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you should at least eat a little bit though.” She said, getting up to put her bowl in the sink. She gave him a weird look when she walked past him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, my stomach has just been giving me some issues today…”

Drew frowned at him and walked over to him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

“You’re a little warm, but I don’t think you have a fever. Do you think you’ve caught something?”

“I don’t know, love. I just want to lay down.” Finn almost whined.

“Okay, let’s lay down then.” Drew led him over to the couch and sat with her feet propped on the coffee table and Finn spread out with his head on her lap. It didn’t take long for him to doze off.

He must’ve been sleeping for awhile when Drew finally woke him up to go to bed. The living room was dark, save for the lamp that was left on.

Finn was basically a zombie as he walked to the room and laid down in bed, passing right back out as soon as he hit the mattress, he didn’t even feel Drew get into bed beside him.

When he woke up next, it was still dark. The glowing numbers on the alarm clock showing 4:17 am. He could hear Drew breathing next to him, sound asleep. He felt much worse than when he had fallen asleep, the feeling of nausea returning. He felt sick. Finn sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Drew stirred for a second before rolling over and falling back asleep.

His body felt heavy and it took effort for him to move, but he could tell that he was going to vomit.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself as he got up and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He paced for a minute before finally settling on the floor, staring into the toilet. It was painfully quiet, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. After a couple moments he retched, which seemed to echo throughout the quiet apartment. Nothing came up beside saliva, but he gagged again and a small mouthful of the pasta he ate for lunch came back up. A couple seconds passed before he retched once more, a slightly larger mouthful of his stomach contents splashed into the toilet.

He coughed and cursed to himself when he heard Drew’s light footsteps come down the hall.

“Babes?” She said quietly as pushed the door open, her voice was scratchy from sleep and her hair was a mess as she staggered into the bathroom.

Finn didn’t get a chance to answer before he leaned back over the toilet, burping up another mouthful of sick.

Drew blinked slowly as what was happening slowly seeped into her sleep fogged brain.

“Okay, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She said, clearly still half asleep. She squeezed his shoulder and rubbed her other hand across his back. Drew left for a moment before coming back and setting a cup of water on the floor by his knee. She sat cross legged behind Finn resting her forehead against his back as she ran her hand up and down his spine.

“How long have you been in here?” Drew asked, her head still resting against his back.

“15 minutes?” He said quietly, his voice scratchy from vomiting. “You can go back to bed, babe. You’re clearly exhausted.”

“No, I’m okay.” She mumbled, “You said your stomach was bothering you but were you nauseous earlier?”

“Not when I got here, but I left work early because I barely kept my breakfast down.” A burp rumbled up from his chest but all that came up was spit.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Drew asked, lifting her head and kissing his shoulder.

“Because I thought it was just something I ate.” Finn reached up and flushed the toilet before pushing himself up from the floor, Drew following suit behind him.

“Okay well, go lay down I just have to pee and then I’ll be in in a minute.” Drew mumbled and watched as Finn rinsed out his mouth before shuffling out of the bathroom. Drew closed the door behind him and braced herself against the sink, sighing. She felt sick, which was different for her, she didn’t get sympathy sickness. Even so, she was beginning to get used to this feeling, nagging nausea that would hit her at seemingly random times of day. She waited and when she realized that nothing was going to happen she shut off the light and returned to the bedroom where her red-headed boy was sprawled across the bed on top of the blankets. He was already fast asleep, exhausted from work and having been sick. Drew sighed, grabbing a blanket from the chair in the corner and draping it over Finn before crawling back in bed herself. She laid in bed staring at the ceiling listening to Finn’s slow and steady breaths, the only sound other than the single thought floating around in her head.

Fuck.

#my writing #my ocs #drew #finn #sickfic #illness #emeto

33 notes · View notes

dasher85 · 2 years

Text

Late night

featuring our Inexpressible duo

Kamisato Ayato x reader | y/n | you

A random short story

Ayato can be scheming, mischievous and respectful at the same time while you were just trying to have a calm night. Perhaps if you woke him up earlier you wouldn’t need to spend late night hours with him.

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

It was late at night, almost midnight. The starry night sky glimmering in brilliance. Cold night breeze blowing against your skin as you look out through the window.

You couldn't sleep. As if you're having insomnia. Was it perhaps because of your terrible sleep schedule lately or was it because your thoughts just wouldn't quiet down? You can't determine the answer either...

Unthinkingly you slip into a warmer outfit and went outside. It was utterly a dangerous action and yet you ignored your own conscience.

The street lights illuminate the paths. Not a single person was outside. Only your footsteps and sounds of crickets were audible.

"Y/n?" someone called you from behind. The person seems to be anxious, you could tell from the tone of his voice.

"Ayato?" You didn't expect to see him but what startled you more was the direction he came from. It seems he came from the same path you've walked before and that would be from your own residence to be exact.

"Why are you outside?"

"Why are you here?"

The both of you questioned each other at the same time.

"I can't sleep"

"I overslept"

And surprisingly answered at the same time too. It seems like he and so did you couldn't bother to acknowledge the way you both had kept on talking at the same time.

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot to wake you up. I continued reading until the last page."

You couldn't tell him that you actually forgot about him. He was peacefully asleep at the side without a sound that made you think you were alone since the evening.

"Where were you heading to?"

"Just planned to circle around the neighborhood"

Instead of being shocked by your bizarre reply he only suggested a different idea.

"Are you interested in going stargazing with me?"

"Stargazing??"

He nods with a smile.

"Alright"

After you agreed, he casually grabbed your hand and brought you along with him. As he took the lead in a leisurely walking phase, he would occasionally meet your gaze from the side.

After a while, you actually started to feel a little bit tired from the walking. The distance you covered would easily be triple the distance compared to just circling around the small neighbourhood.

"We're here"

He sat down in a grass field as you followed his actions. It was somewhere on a hill but the skies were clearly visible with no trees blocking the view.

You rested your head against your left hand while facing the distant stars. The dark space contradicting the white lights has entirely captured your attention away.

'Red, white and green. I wonder why it's emitting different lights?' perhaps you've once discovered the answer before after reading a book about it but somehow you've forgotten the exact answer.

After a long while of silence, did you finally decide to ask the person who was accompanying you.

"Ayato-"

"Y/n-"

You both paused after somehow your names got called at the same time yet again.

"It's fine, you say it first" eventually you insisted that he speak first.

"It's perhaps would be best if you'd sleep earlier next time, especially when you're not supposed to be busy"

"Mhmm" you simply agreed to his advice, you weren't interested to argue with him and drag it into a problem. Rationally, it wasn't bad advice either.

"But of course, if I'm around... these things wouldn't bother me that much. At least, I know you're safe."

"So, you're saying... I shouldn't go out alone at night? You should've just said that instead" you laughed seemingly entertained by his way of saying things.

"Well not entirely..." He smiled.

"It's why staying at the estate would be a great option for you" he then mischievously adds.

"Oh... So that was the main point. Alright, I'll sleep early from now on."

"Excellent. That way you can greet me happily in the morning"

You sighed, "There's really no escape from you, is it?" This wasn't anything new to you, it was somehow already a part of his daily or at least once a week routine to actually come knocking on your front door just to say 'Good morning' before he heads to work.

"That's right" he chuckled.

"Right, what did you want to ask me earlier?"

"Do you know why that particular star is emitting more than one type of colored lights?" You point towards the distant star.

"Hmm... If that's the case, would you be interested to join me later tomorrow?"

"That's not the answer."

"Do you agree?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"I'll make arrangements then-"

"I disagree" you quickly cut through his words.

"I reject your disagreement. I'm taking you to meet the Inazuma's astrologist. They'll know to answer your every questions"

"Eh?! That's too much. I think your opinion about my question would be convincing enough for me"

"My opinion?"

"Exactly. I actually have read the answer somewhere but I forgot about it" you explained.

"Personally, I think it's just like you-"

"No. No. Not these type of answer" somehow you already know what nonsense he would be adding next.

"Alright. Alright..." he laughed at the way your facial expression was in complete distaste.

"Are you heading back to my house after this?" You suddenly asked afterwards, trying to change the topic before he tried to add into the topic.

"Naturally, it would be also your responsibility to keep me safe this late at night. It's not appropriate for me to return home at this hour"

"You're spouting nonsense. I shouldn't have asked." You exclaimed.

"Let's head home. Shall we?"

You only stare at his extended hand, unable to decide if it's actually alright to let a Commissioner stay the whole night at your residence.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't a Commissioner." Eventually you took his hand.

"But I'm already not the Commissioner when I'm with you"

"Mmm... Make sense. Oh well, I guess you need to pay rent then" you casually added.

"Sure, what's the payment method?"

You both started walking back on the same path. He was holding your hand and occasionally both of your shoulders would bump into each other. However, the both of you aren't bothered with these simple gestures as if it was just normal happenings.

"Expensive gold and jewelry set" you randomly suggested with a grin.

"Alright. Is that all? " He agreed without much thought.

"I changed my mind, those are too cheap." You then started finding new ideas while walking down the path along with him.

He, on the other hand, was casually taking side glances with a smile. He was seemingly also trying to make guesses about what you'd say next.

"Don't wake me up in the morning for a month, exactly 31 days" you finally spoke after a moment of thinking.

Ayato wasn't expecting you to suggest things such as that. He was quite taken aback.

"That's not acceptable! It's ridiculously expensive."

"I won't cook for you for exactly 61 days"

"No."

"No holding hands for exactly 100 days"

He quickly shook his head to disagree.

"I thought you were generous" you slightly frowned after voicing out the options you'd prefer as a payment from him.

He suddenly let out a hearty laugh, seemingly genuinely amused.

"How about food, don't you love food more than me?" He quickly made a suggestion.

"No, food is too common" you quickly disagree right after he suggested it.

"But wouldn't you feel sad if you couldn't see this handsome face for a day?" He casually raised his hand that was holding yours towards his face. It was as if he was trying to point out his own face but wasn't able to actually do it because his hand was occupied.

"I will if it's over 365 days. Otherwise, no."

"Then wouldn't you feel sad if I'm the one who's feeling depressed?"

"Why would you feel depressed over that?" You laughed at how he purposely chose such dramatic words.

You waited for his reply but he suddenly fell silent seemingly avoiding answering the question itself. Although you could barely make out the outline of his face due to the dim street lights, it was evident that he was demonstrating his so-called depression.

"Why don't you suggest the payment methods then?" You softly spoke while slightly bumping your shoulders to his.

"A kiss would do" he suddenly spoke through his smiling lips seemingly recovering way too fast.

"Sure. You can kiss my hand."

"What? That's-"

"No taking back. It's you who chose it" you tried to surpass your laughter but ended up shaking in the process while he could only sigh in defeat.

After a few more turns along the path, you both finally arrived at your residence.

"Don't you want to add more into the payment?" He suddenly asked about that topic yet again after closing the front door.

"Hmm... Just Kamisato Ayato taking proper rest at the estate. Would that be doable?" You specifically spoke out the option which cannot be further altered.

He appeared to be slightly surprised by that but he can only sigh before agreeing. Perhaps he has something else in mind but eventually chose to side with your suggestions in that matter.

"Mmm." He eventually nods in agreement. "

"Now that's settled, but since you're being such a girl who shamelessly wants to have a sleepover at my house... I have not yet prepared the guest room" You slide the door open only to be greeted by a few moths flying out.

"Since you're my future wife, wouldn't it be easier if we share-" he hadn't finished his sentence and you had already stopped him.

"No. My room is too small, girlish and messy. Also, I move way too much when I'm asleep." You instantly started making up excuses.

"What's wrong about that? Isn't it normal" he innocently replied.

You sighed in defeat. "Well, if you say so..."

Seconds after saying that you casually lit the candle inside the guest room and walked inside.

"Feel free to sleep anywhere you want" you briefly told the latter with a smile before closing yourself inside the guest room.

"Y/n?!" He was surprised by your sudden act.

"It's fine, I'll sleep here instead. Good night, Ayato" You spoke from behind the sliding door. This was your last way of escaping away from his questionable suggestions. Although you knew he wouldn't do any harm, but somehow those things just makes you feel like hiding away just like what you were doing right now.

"Come on out, y/n. You're allergic to dusts" he softly called out through the thin papers of the sliding door.

You once helped him to find an old record book from the Kamisato's store room and it wasn't that dusty at all but minutes after that your skin suddenly became slightly red due to your allergic reaction.

The sliding door wasn't locked nor did you try to hold it close and yet his hand only rests on the wooden door frame patiently waiting for your reply.

However you didn't reply back as you started opening the window, letting the remnants of moths to escape. You actually cleaned the room just three days ago but moths are just too common as they are often attracted by the candle lights.

"I promise you, I won't invade your room." Yet he still got no reply from you.

"It was just a suggestion, I wouldn't force you to share a room with me if you didn't agree" he worriedly explained, seemingly assuming you were definitely ignoring him for that reason.

It seems the way he had also wouldn't reply to you earlier was inspired by how you treated him if you were annoyed, depressed, unsatisfied, angry or just in a state where you didn't want to admit about something in particular. It was quite an attitude but it never did cause damage in between the both of you.

"Don't worry, it's not dusty here. I'm just feeling embarrassed at the moment but..." You decided to drag your words, hesitating for a slight moment.

"...you're still my beloved person. Also, the extra blankets are in the side cabinet." You seem to hide those words in between the information although you knew it wasn't possible that he'd miss that.

"Please forgive me for making you feel that way... Would you please come out y/n?"

"What happened? Have fatigue taken over your consciousness?"

The way his tone changed drastically from being casual to being somehow formal but dejected stopped you from closing your eyes to sleep. After a moment of silence he still didn't reply, and you just know it can't be helped.

You sighed before finally deciding to walk out from the guest room. Upon sliding the door open, you were only greeted by his tall figure. He has been standing there, facing you with a warm smile. His light purple eyes glowing as it reflects the candle lights.

You stare at him and so did he. You waited for him to say something but all he did was smile.

"So... What is it that you need? Extra pillows or-" you asked first but then was interrupted.

"There's something important I want to say and you need to listen carefully" he finally spoke.

Although it seems sudden you only nodded and he came closer to a point where you started to question him.

"Do you need to be this close?" You complained as he bent over to your side just to whisper it to your left ear.

"This is so embarrassing" you casually admitted but was unable to get away from it. His hand has already taken hold of your hand.

You couldn't see his face but you could tell he was somehow smiling as warm breath brushed your cheeks.

"Ayato. you better say it right now" At this point, you knew he was trying to scheme something and worse you couldn't predict his next move.

"You're my beloved sweetheart too..." He really whispered it to your ears. As if it was a secret he wants only you to know.

"... and Kamisato Ayato can finally have a proper rest only when he's with you"

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

#with ayato #kamisato ayato #genshin impact #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff

26 notes · View notes

myherowritings · 3 years

Text

PART 3. ACCIDENTAL SUGAR DADDY?

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. happy new year y’all! :3 i hope you have a good 2021 and here is some flirty ceo!shouto for u to enjoy as we enter the new year hehe ;) thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

“I heard you dropped by this weekend,” you said as a greeting, a playful smile on your lips. “Looking for me?”

If the tips of his ears didn’t tinge pink, you would have guessed Shouto was completely unaffected by your words.

“Mn.” He drew his attention away from your gaze and pointedly adjusted his cufflinks. “Good morning to you too.”

You laughed, accepting you wouldn’t get anything out of your attempt at teasing. “Morning, Shouto. How was your weekend?”

The cafe was quite busy this hour, but Miyazaki took over the other register to alleviate the stress (though, what she really said was so you and pretty boy—who happened to be rich rich—could talk). Whatever the reason, you were glad for a small break whenever you could get it.

“You could say it was busy,” he replied, sounding a bit tired. For the first time since you met him, you actually noticed how exhausted he looked. You wanted to put cucumbers on his eyes and lay his head down on your lap to coax him to sleep. Nonetheless, he smiled softly at you. “And yours? I hope you were able to have time to rest and relax.”

You nodded. “I just slept a lot and caught up on the shows I missed throughout the week.”

“The real way a weekend should be spent.”

His voice was teasing but he didn’t sound mocking. Just...somewhat playful. There was something about his tone that made you want to hear it again.

“Something tells me you need a weekend away where you could just relax and do nothing,” you commented, tapping the back of your pen to your chin. “Do you not have any days off at work?”

He considered this. “Depends what you mean by day off.”

“If you have to ask that, that probably means you don’t have a day off, huh?” you said with a frown, holding your hand over your chest as you sighed dramatically. “You poor thing. Overworked and tired. Maybe I should steal you away one weekend and get you to just relax.”

You were only half-serious.

“Maybe you should,” agreed Shouto, sounding full-serious.

“Maybe I will,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Maybe you could if you actually had his number… Then, feeling shameful you said, “But, ah, anyway, what can I get for you today? We actually have cheese danishes again!”

His face brightened. “You do? I’ll take five dozen.”

With a laugh you took down his order. You really weren’t sure where all these pastries were going when he bought it, but judging from his expression, you figured it must be somewhere good.

“And for your drink?”

“This time I’ll have a large green tea with almond milk, please.”

You nodded but tilted your head to the side in question. “No coffee with extra shots of espresso today?”

“I add too much sugar and creamer to my coffee,” he admitted sheepishly. “And with all the baked goods I’ve been eating I realized I may have had an excess amount of sweets lately.”

With an understanding laugh you patted his hand that was resting on the counter woefully. “I can definitely relate to that. If too many sweets are bad for you they shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

Shouto glanced down at where your hands touched, an expression you couldn’t quite discern on his face. Averting your gaze, you quickly pulled your hand back. Was that inappropriate of you? Did he find it too pushy?

“Oh— Sorry about that,” you said, rubbing your elbow with your opposite hand. “Got a bit ahead of myself there.”

“No, it’s fine.” He blinked once. “I didn’t mind.”

Unsure if he meant anything by that and unsure if you were reading too much into things, you simply brushed the topic off and moved on to getting his order in telling him the price.

“Paying by card again, I’m assuming?” you asked before hitting the appropriate button on the screen.

“Correct.”

By now the sight of the sleek and pretty credit card was one you grew rather fond of as he scanned over the payment terminal and signed his name. Was it weird you wanted to examine his signature more closely? Shouto seemed like the type of person who would have a fancy signature that somehow looked like art.

As per routine, you told him his order would be ready for pick up at his right and, before he left the register, he thanked you and gave you another $100.

Did it feel any less strange than the first time he tipped you? Not really, no. But you still weren’t going to complain about a generous tip from a willing customer.

Before he left with his cheese danishes and cup of tea in hand, he stopped by next to you with a small smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You grinned back. “Can’t wait, Shouto!”

— ✩ —

This went on for a whole other week. By this point, he had given you over $1,000 in tip and you were starting to feel like you should give him something in return despite him assuring you he didn’t expect anything.

When you told your friends about the nice guy you met while you were working and they asked for the details, the first thing they said in response to your situation was, “Sugar daddy?”

Before they planted that thought into your head, you just took it as a rich businessman who hated the rich and believed in redistribution of wealth—you couldn’t complain about that. That made him even more appealing, if you must say. But once Kaminari and Ashido whispered those two words, you couldn’t help but see the comparisons.

You had no issues with sugar daddies or sugar babies; as long as they were two consenting adults, what did it matter to you? It just wasn’t something you were looking for at the time and you didn’t want Shouto to get the wrong impression or involve yourself in something you weren’t ready to.

As you commuted to work for your next morning shift, you told yourself today was the day you’d thank him one final time for the tips, but tell him you couldn’t accept anymore. You were sure he’d be understanding but you also hoped it wouldn’t deter him from coming to see you. That was the last thing you’d want.

“Mrs. Miyazaki,” you said between customers. “When Shouto comes in, do you think I can step away from the register to talk to him for a little? I promise it’ll be brief!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Are you finally going to ask him out or something?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “Or something, yeah.”

Thankfully, by the time Shouto arrived today, it was later than he normally came, meaning rush hour was almost dying down.

“Good morning! Someone’s a little late today,” you teased. “Overslept?”

“I wish,” he sighed wistfully. “I had a meeting early this morning and it just ended. Didn’t have a chance to pick up some coffee or pastries beforehand.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope whoever was hosting the meeting at least provided you guys drinks and snacks!”

He paused. “He did, but… I just thought yours were better.”

Smiling at the compliment, you preened. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised. And I’m glad you were able to drop by still. Would’ve missed you too much otherwise.”

Again, you were only half-serious.

“Hm. I would’ve missed you too.”

And again, he seemed full-serious. Not that you minded.

After taking his order and watching him pay, you pulled him to the side, looking over at your boss so she knew what was going on. She gave you a brief nod as you turned your attention to Shouto.

A lapse of silence went by and he spoke up, “Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“Yeah, actually.” You wrung your fingers nervously, hoping you wouldn’t say anything to offend him since you knew his actions were coming from a kind place. “I just wanted to say… I’m not really looking for a sugar daddy right now.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “Pardon?”

You stared at him, unsure what to say.

“I— Sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not my intention to be a...sugar daddy either.” Shouto’s face flushed a bright pink that made your own cheeks warm up in response.

“But the—the money? I just… I guess I thought…” You winced.

So he wasn’t trying to pick up a sugar baby… Well, this was awkward. But regardless, you think you’ve gotten close enough to him to the point where it would feel weird accepting money from him.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. It really is just a tip to show appreciation for your service here.”

You shook your head. “No! Sorry, that makes sense! My friends just said… And then I…” you trailed off, feeling a million times more flustered than when you started. “Sorry about that. The sugar daddy mishap aside, I still wanted to say that I really appreciate the tips you gave, but I don’t think I can accept them anymore.”

Slowly, he nodded, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. “I understand. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened!” you were quick to assure. “I really am thankful, but… I think we’ve gotten too close for me to be comfortable accepting that much money, you know?”

Shouto tilted his head to the side, listening intently.

“Like,” you tried to explain, fiddling with your apron, “over the past few weeks I just think we’ve gotten to know each other more and I think of you as a friend of sorts now.” You peered at him through your lashes, hoping your words were making sense. “I think as a relationship develops—for me, at least—adding money into the mix can cause weird power imbalances if not communicated properly. And I just don’t want that for us.”

He thought through your words for a while before agreeing. “I get what you mean. I wouldn’t want to unintentionally make you feel like you owe me anything, so if you’re not comfortable with it, I can stop.”

“Thanks, Shouto,” you said with a beam, glad he was so receptive. Really though, what else did you expect? From your interactions with him you took him to be kindhearted and open. Of course he wouldn’t be upset over this. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you should stop coming! Right? I don’t want to stop being your friend or anything!”

With a small laugh, he nodded. “Sure. I wouldn’t want to part with my favorite cafe. And I’d like to keep being friends as well.”

Those words warmed your heart. You really were nervous about this confrontation earlier; you didn’t want voicing your opinion to mean ending your friendship. (Although, if you sharing what you were comfortable with was enough to end a relationship, then you supposed it was bound to be a toxic and stifling one in the long run and it was good to know in the beginning to end it before it could grow.) Turns out, however, that you didn’t even need to worry about that. He was understanding and sweet and you were glad to have gotten this out of the way.

“Well, as new friends,” you said, gently nudging his side, “maybe we should get to know each other more? Exchange numbers… Hang out outside of this cafe…” You ran through some suggestions, almost bouncing on your feet in excitement. “I mean, I know you’re always so busy and might not have much free time to hang out. But— If you’re ever free one weekend…”

“I’d enjoy that,” he cut in, saving you from blabbering your mouth off and accidentally embarrassing yourself. “Didn’t you say you’d steal me away from work to relax? I’m still holding you to that.”

The beginnings of a smirk formed on his face as he looked at your flustered expression. Was he teasing you?

You huffed, pretending to be insulted by his playful mocking. “Guess I’ll really have to do it then.”

“Guess so.”

“Maybe you should give me your number first so we could plan it.”

“Okay.”

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours, both of your adding your numbers to the contact list. Smiling, you held the phone in front of the two of you to take a contact picture of yourself for Shouto’s phone. To your complete surprise, he laughed before promptly following suit and taking a selfie for his contact image.

“Cute,” you said when he handed you back your phone.

“You too.”

Placing your device back in your pocket, you looked at him, hand on hip. “Since when did you become such a smooth-talker? Am I going to have to guard my heart now?”

His only response was a shrug, but you could see hints of a smile playing on his face. The two of you seemed to be smiling a lot lately, you couldn’t help but notice.

“I should probably let you go to work now—and I should go back to mine.” You gestured to the growing line at the front of the store. Your manager looked like she had things under control, but you didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. “You should text me later though. If you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Shouto promised, picking up his drink and pastry boxes from the side counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. And… I’ll message you soon.”

As you watched him leave the store, you were certain you had a silly look on your face as you stared in a trance.

“I’ll turn my phone off silent just for you!” you said to his back, hoping he understood what a momentous occasion this was. Your phone was always on silent (unless you were playing a game, of course). But for Shouto, you could handle hearing the obnoxious ringtone and text tone.

With an amused expression he nodded before waving goodbye.

Later on that day, at the end of your shift, you noticed a new message from a certain someone that made your stomach flutter.

Shouto: Hi there. It’s Shouto :)

You never knew those four simple words would be enough to keep the grin plastered on your face up until the moment your head hit your pillow to fall asleep. But, damn— Were you glad that happened to be the case.

a/n: whY WAS SHOUTO AND Y/N EXCHANGING NUMBERS SO CUTE idk that scene got me all blushy and :DDD HFJDKSF like taking a selfie with shouto and getting his number? only goal in life BFHFGF,, also y/n said no more tips how we feeling? ;o

what to expect in the next part:

an unwanted visitor ಥ_ಥ

shouto has a...proposition for y/n

FLIRTING FLUFF SO MUCH CUTENESS U MIGHT CRY

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~

2K notes · View notes

imtooscaredforthis · 3 years

Text

Fixation

Chapter Seven- Fired

Mentions of: Paranoia, Stalking, Harassment, Blackmail

Ever since that night, you weren’t doing that well. You had to have at least every light in your home turned on, every lock checked thrice, and you slept with your shotgun under your bed. But that was on a good night. Most nights, you couldn’t sleep at all.

You were so paranoid, constantly checking and looking over at your phone, waiting, wondering when he would call. When he would come for you. When he would kill you.

A part of you just wanted him to get it over with. But you knew this was just a part of his game. He was a predator, playing with his food before he ate it.

You usually just kept your phone unplugged. That was, until one night where you got a very important call.

“Hello?” You answered, voice shaky, your hand trembling as you held the phone up to your ear.

“(Y/n)? What is going on? I’ve been calling you for weeks, you had me worried sick!” You let out a sigh of relief, knowing it was just Charlotte.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called, I just, I’m terrified. Ghostface, he’s- he’s after me. He’s been stalking me, calling me, and now he wants to kill me. And the police don’t even believe me!” You cried out.

There was a brief pause, nothing said on the other line, except for a small “oh.”

“Oh? What does ‘Oh’ mean, Char?” You questioned angrily. If she didn’t believe you, you didn’t know what you’d do.

“It means I’m glad you’re not dead. That’s what you should focus on.” She evaded the topic.

“Are you serious? Do you not believe me?” You could feel yourself grow angrier by the second.

“I don’t know what to believe, but if the cops don’t believe someone’s there then….(y/n) don’t you remember when you thought you saw your sister's murderer? It took weeks and weeks of convincing and-”

“But that’s different! That was grief hallucinations, they’re completely normal! Do you just think I’m crazy or something?” You tried to keep yourself from shouting at her, but your voice was getting louder with every word you spoke.

How could your own friend not even try to give you comfort? You weren’t crazy. You weren’t crazy!

“I know, and recently you’ve been under a lot of stress, (y/n). You probably haven’t been getting much sleep, and maybe it’s possible that this Ghostface person was all in your hea-” You hung up on her mid sentence. You couldn’t hear any more. It hurt too much.

I’m not crazy I’m not crazy I’m not crazy

You had to tell yourself, repeating it again and again when you doubted your mind.

“I don’t know, James. It seems a little cruel as it is. I mean, this woman is barely making it through the week. How she could even afford a house, I don’t know.” The health inspector told him.

“It was my wife’s dying wish, Richard. No matter what type of person she was, I have to do it. Surely you understand.” He replied.

The other man let out a deep sigh. “Fine, but after this, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Deal.”

You came into work late, having overslept after another night of paranoia and writing. Unsurprisingly, your inspiration was not at it’s best and you had to force yourself to write something you actually liked, and after procrastinating and stressing, you finally managed to do it. Unfortunately, you did it at six in the morning, thanks to the now horrendously long process you had.

So now, here you were, half awake as you went to grab the apron, almost missing it entirely. Suddenly, Mr. Mullin stood at your side, making you jump. “Jeez, you scared me!”

“Sorry, about that. Can we talk?” That question managed to make you sick, anxiety creeping through you.

“S-sure.” You stuttered anxiously, letting him walk you outside.

“There’s no easy way to say this and you’ve been so pleasant to work with, but I’m sorry, you’re fired.” Oh No. No. No. No. No. Anything but this. You were already hanging on by a thread, and this just cut it. “What? But why?”

“You’ve been late, constantly, and you’ve wasted most of your time talking with Jed and….shit, I can’t do this. I’m just going to be honest with you. That woman you got into a fight with who passed away? Well she got her husband to get a health inspector here, and he threatened to get the cafe shut down if I don’t fire you. This has happened before, and I’m sorry, you just can’t work here.” He explained.

Even when she was dead, Debra ruined your life. You had no right to be angry, it wasn’t his fault. He was a good boss, the best you ever had. And that’s what you told him.

You gave him a hug and reluctantly turned in your apron, before he stopped you. “You’ll still have severance for the next three weeks. It’s the best I can do.”

He gave you a sad, kind smile and you did your best to return it. “Thank you, Mr.Mullin.”

Then, he went back inside, while you stayed out there, standing and staring into nothingness. Your legs got tired, and eventually, you had to start sitting. So you sat out on the curb, your face in your hands, wondering what you were going to do.

The severance could only keep you afloat for so long, and with the shit job experience you have, you doubt anyone would want to hire you. You had gotten lucky with Mr.Mullin, and luck could only get you so far.

There was one other option, but you hated the idea of it. You could go to your parents to help you. But you already knew exactly how that would go.

It’s not that they wouldn’t help you. It’s that they would help you too much. And If they found out the shit’s that’s been happening to you, you’d probably never see the light of day again.

Still, if you really had to, you should go to them rather than living on the streets. But you really didn’t want to. Right when you were going to be your own, independent person, you had to go crawling back to your mommy and daddy. It was pathetic. God, what were you going to do?

“I thought something was different with my coffee.” You heard a voice say from behind you.

Oh god, Jed. He was going to see how much of a mess you are right now. Your hair was all tangled, bags hanging heavily under your eyes, and your clothes messy.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He asked, taking a seat next to you on the curb.

“Everything. I got fired, and I’m so scared, and I don’t know what to do, and everyone thinks I’m crazy. I’m probably going to die soon, anyways, so it’s not like it matters.” You rambled.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down.” He turned you towards him, making you look in his eyes. They were so beautiful, so calming, so clear. You found yourself getting lost in them. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

Taking a shaky breath, you started all over again. “I got fired today. And I’ve been a mess, ever since what happened….It’s Ghostface, he’s after me. He’s stalked me, called me, harassed me. I tried going to the police, but they don’t believe me. Nobody believes me, not even my friends, they all think I’m crazy. Tell me, tell me I’m not crazy. Please, Jed.”

“You’re not crazy, (y/n). In fact, you’re one of the sanest, smartest people I know.” He put a hand on your back, rubbing it softly. His touch felt like fire against your skin.

You snickered, rubbing away the tears that had welled up into your eyes. “You barely know me.”

“Well, there are a lot of stupid people in town.” He smirked at you, making you grin. “But I promise, we’ll get through this. You know to call me. I’ll do whatever I can to help. Oh, and one more thing. I want you to work with me on the Ghostface stories.”

“I don’t want to be a burden-”

“Listen, my boss agrees that I could use a few extra hands on this. And you won’t be a burden, okay? I’d love to work with you.” That made your smile widen, your cheeks flushing even more.

“I’d love working with you too.” You two both stared at each other for another moment, before Jed broke eye contact, looking down at his watch.

“Crap, I have to head into work. I’ll call you and give you the details of when you can come in, okay?” He got to his feet, waving and walking off. You waved back, smiling to yourself.

Maybe things weren’t so horrible after all.

#dbd #dead by deadlight #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd ghostface #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #ghostface #danny johnson dbd #danny johnson x reader #dbd danny johnson #dbd danny #jed olsen x reader #dbd jed olsen #jed olsen #killer x you #killer x reader

234 notes · View notes

welcometothemxdhouse · 3 years

Text

Lectures (pt.4)

Listen, okay first of all i know this took 6 months i suck i’m sorry :( I had this idea with @prurientpuddlejumper and it expanded it into what is hopefully a good chapter for this fic. The first three chapters are pinned on my profile if you wanna catchup or reread.

Gender neutral reader.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, thigh-riding, student/professor relationship (don’t do this lmao).

Taglist: @feedthemadness-sweetie @prurientpuddlejumper @madamsnape921

For the next week all you could think about was your encounter with Doctor Chilton. You thought about it when you were awake and you dreamt about it when you were asleep. You wanted more. The thought of his little moans and the way he melted so easily under your hands distracted you from everything you had to do. By the time your next lecture with the Doctor came around you were practically shaking with the anticipation of just seeing him again.

However, the night before the lecture you had gotten so little sleep due to unfinished assignments that you didn’t hear your alarm screaming at you in the morning. When you finally awoke with a start you rolled over and checked your phone, almost jumping out of bed when you processed the time - 8:50am. Ten minutes before your lecture. You threw on the first clothes that fell out of your closet and ran out of the door, praying you could make it across campus before your professor began the lecture. You ran down the corridor and skidded almost cartoonishly to open the door to your lecture hall:

“You are late.” Doctor Chilton stated matter-of-factly, turning to face you along with the rest of the class.

“I’m sorry, I overslept”, you paused, considering whether you should push your luck in such a precarious position. Fuck it...“sir”.

Doctor Chilton’s eyes widened briefly in remembrance until he quickly composed himself and straightened his posture - pushing out his chest and tightening the grip on his cane.

“Take a seat...And don’t ever be late to my class again, understand?”

You nodded as you quickly climbed the steps to take your seat next to your friend who gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed a small piece of paper towards you that just said ‘coffee?’. You breathed a sigh of relief and settled into the hours of inevitable boredom and daydreaming.

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

You took a final gulp of your long-awaited coffee and tuned back into what your friend was talking about from across the table. You’d manage to snag a quaint, quiet corner in the café of your favourite bookshop near campus and that’s where you had spent the last few hours gossiping with your friend about everything from dormmates, to work, to exams, until the conversation drew to a natural halt and the topic you had been dreading was finally broached,

“So,” your friend began, crossing their arms on the table and leaning forward in their seat, “you and Professor Chilton, huh?”

You huffed a small laugh and shook your head.

“There is no me and Professor Chilton. It was a one-time thing, that’s all”.

“You’re joking, right? I saw the way you looked at each other when you stumbled into the hall this morning! You’re hot for teacher!” They laughed sardonically at their own joke as you hung your head to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Am not!”, you shouted - accidentally more defensive than you needed to be against the obvious teasing - “He’s just, you know, he’s actually sweet when you talk to him.”

They giggled to themselves and raised an eyebrow at you,

“Sweet? So poetic, damn William Wordsworth, try not to come on your seat you’ll traumatise the poor -”

Before they could even finish their sentence you both burst out laughing, ignoring the confused and slightly annoyed looks of everyone around you as you clutched your hands to your chest in mock breathlessness. When the two of you eventually regained your senses you locked eyes and panicked slightly as their expression suddenly became sullen and serious.

“Just be careful, okay?” they sighed, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

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

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

RE: Exam Supervision

Please attend my office between the hours of 2PM and 4PM.

Thank you.

You peered down at your phone in your hand and smiled. ‘Exam supervision’; yeah the last time you asked for that you ended up with carpet burn on your knees for the next two days. The rhythmic tapping of metal against the hard floor signalled the arrival of Professor Chilton, or rather Frederick as he had indicted you call him in private, and you looked up wide-eyed and eager as your eyes latched onto the suit he was wearing today. You were obviously used to Frederick’s expensive and extravagant suits as he never wore anything but those during lectures, however, this one you had never seen before and it was tailored so perfectly to sculpt his chest, waist, and thighs that you briefly wondered how every student enrolled at the university wasn’t head-over-heels for this man. Frederick noticed you staring and hastily opened the door to his office, placing a hand on your back to guide you through then locking the door behind you. He turned on his heels and smirked at you.

“Like what you see?” He asked, slowly walking forward until he was within touching distance of you. You felt his breath dance across your face and inwardly giggled to yourself as the smell of fresh mint filled your nose - god he is so adorable. You cleared your throat nervously and took a deep breath and leant forward to brush your nose against his, teasing him as your lips just barely grazed.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered quietly before closing that tiny, torturous gap and kissing him with soft passion. He moaned into your mouth as your tongue pushed past his lips and your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, revelling in the comforting heat of his chest against yours. Frederick’s hands found purchase on your waist as he lightly pushed you backwards towards the brown, leather couch that occupied the space under the window at the furthest end of his office. When you felt the back of your knees hit the arm of the couch you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss to reach over to the window and pull the cord which shut the blinds. The instant they shuttered closed you wrapped your arms back around Frederick and pulled him down onto the couch so he was on top of you - one leg on the floor for balance and the other bent at the knee and pressed between your thighs. You smirked against his lips at the soft grunting sound he made as he landed ungracefully on top of you and began trailing your lips along his jawline while your fingers fumbled with the infinite buttons on his fancy double-breasted suit. Meanwhile, Frederick clumsily ran the hand that wasn’t gripping the sofa up your thigh and scrambled to remove your pants. When you finally exposed enough of Frederick’s chest to satisfy your desperation you dipped your head to lightly bite along his collarbone, running your tongue over the small marks you left in your wake. The sound of Frederick’s pathetic little whimpers and whines bounced off the book-lined walls and you gasped as you felt him grind his crotch against your thigh.

Suddenly, he quickly pulled himself away from your semi-undressed form and began stuttering embarrassed apologies as a red hue crawled its way up his chest and neck. Once you had taken a few seconds to regain your thoughts you rested your hands on either side of his face and lowered him back down to you. You pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“It’s okay, baby”, you muttered softly, punctuating your pause with another kiss, “you did nothing wrong.”

You locked eyes with his and your heart suddenly felt heavy as you found the same sad, confused expression you had noticed first time you were in his office except, this time, there was no sarcastic smirk to replace it as quick as it had appeared. No, this time he was allowing you to see it. You reached your hand down to pull his left leg back over your thigh and tugged him into a heated kiss. After a few more minutes you felt Frederick relax under your touch again, the muscles which were still pushing the limits of that insanely fitted shirt were finally less tense and he reciprocated your kiss with more passion and vigour than before. Slowly, you began to bend your knee so to raise your thigh into Frederick’s crotch. You carefully moved your leg up and down, causing Frederick to drop his head and give out a high-pitched whine which could rival that of the average pornstar. You smiled into his hair and pressed a tentative kiss to the top of his head - reassurance, you thought, this poor man has been starved of his own desires for so long he doesn’t even know how to act on them. You snaked your hands down his chest and settled them on his slim waist, encouraging him to move for himself. With his head still lowered he slowly began to rock his hips back and forth, moaning loudly with every flex of your thigh muscles against the outline of his rock-hard dick, still trapped in his pants. Soon, his pace started to quicken and you felt a growing wet patch rub against your bare skin every time he shifted forwards. Acknowledging to yourself that making him look at you would likely cause him to jump up and push you, half-dressed, out of his office door, you brought one of your hands up, tangled it in his hair and pushed his head down to rest on your chest,

“Come for me, baby. Be a good boy for me.”

Frederick’s hips stuttered against you and the room was filled with the sound of his moans as he came in his pants. You ran your fingers through his hair and repeated quiet mutterings of ‘good boy’ and ‘doing so well for me’ into the top of his head. When Frederick’s moans changed into breathless gasps you lowered your leg back onto the couch and let out a small ‘uff’ as his whole weight fell against your body. As you both lay there in silence, wrapped around each other and enjoying the feeling of your fingers comfortingly scratching his scalp, you forced yourself to suppress a natural panicked reaction at the feeling of a drop landing in the crook of your collar...

He was crying.

Your breath hitched as you frantically went over all the possible outcomes of your reactions in your head. Did he want you to comfort him? To tell him that everything is okay and that he’s safe with you? Or would that embarrass him? Would that make him kick you out and refuse to look at you, even in class? Eventually you settled on pulling your arms around him tighter and pressing your lips to his forehead.

And that was enough. All it took to break the walls Doctor Frederick Chilton had spent over 30 years building brick-by-brick, was a hug.

#Frederick Chilton #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton fanfic #frederick chilton x y/n #hannibal fic #nbc hannibal #hannibal fanfiction

93 notes · View notes

libraryofnesta · 3 years

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

60 notes · View notes

demonsigh · 3 years

Text

the hunt

rating: lime/mature pairing: male vampire x gender-neutral reader features: touch starvation, safewords, biting, aftercare, cuddling warnings: blood, fear, being chased, dizziness length: 4240 words

Feeling isolated and craving physical intimacy, a college student agrees to be hunted and bitten by a vampire in exchange for a post-meal snuggling session. Based on this prompt submitted to @monsterkinkmeme by @the-color-of-sound-is-space

You were supposed to meet him at 11 PM, in the middle of Bartleby Park. Vampires were nocturnal and uncomfortable in the sun, so the hunt had to take place at night. But did it have to be this late?

It wasn’t as if you were getting tired. You were something of a nocturnal animal yourself nowadays; college tended to do that to people. But the park was pretty creepy this late at night, eerily empty and unnaturally quiet.

You checked your phone again. 11:10 already. He was late. Had he been held up? Or could he have overslept? That thought wrung a quiet chuckle from you — a sound not at all reassuring to hear in the dark silence of the park.

The “he” in question was a vampire named Roland that you’d met on the internet. You were meeting up so he could suck your blood.

For whatever reason, college towns tended to attract vampires. It probably had something to do with the vibrant nightlife, and the bars that never closed, and parties that only ended when the sun rose. Or perhaps it was the rich history of such places, in the old stone buildings and the musty library books. Or maybe it was just the students themselves: curious and open-minded, over-educated and sheltered and a little bit reckless.

In the modern age, most vampires obtained their food in the modern way: in bags, from blood banks or speciality clinics. But there were those who still swore by more natural methods. Many believed that feeding from the source provided physical and mental health benefits. For others, the desire to stalk, and chase, and bite, was simply too strong to resist indulging. Luckily for all, it was not as difficult to find a willing human victim as one might expect.

You discovered a message board that was dedicated to this macabre economy. Vampires would make posts looking for “prey” — humans willing or eager to be bitten. An arrangement would be made for a night of thrilling and dangerous roleplay, where the vampire played the part of the seductive predator, and the human, the helpless victim.

For most of the humans who posted on this forum, being prey was a kink. They enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and the pain of the bite. It was foreplay to them, and the evening inevitably led to sex after their partner’s more pressing appetites were sated.

You became a little obsessed with this message board. You didn’t think you’d mind being bitten; there was something kind of sexy about it. But you weren’t really trying to get laid. What you really wanted was some quality aftercare, a perk that was frequently offered, requested, and discussed on this forum.

College had become something of a lonely experience for you. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, and you weren’t sure where you’d gone wrong. In your freshman year you’d made an effort to be social, starting a number of casual friendships, but none of them really stuck. You were still close to your high school friends, and you talked to them online all the time, but somehow the number of people with whom you had any physical interaction had dwindled down to zero.

It made you lonely in a deep, nagging way. You wanted a hug. You wanted to hold someone’s hand. You daydreamed constantly about these things, setting up elaborate scenarios in your mind that led to someone safe and warm holding you for hours at a time. You felt like these fantasies were reaching a boiling point in your mind. And one night, after drinking several beers by yourself, you made your own post on that message board. You would let someone bite you (hunt optional), in exchange for an evening of snuggling (sex optional).

And that was how you met Roland. He wasn’t the only vampire who replied to your post, but he was the only one who lived within easy walking distance. You agreed to meet at one of the campus cafes and discuss possibilities over coffee.

You recognized him immediately, although you were pretty sure he didn’t recognize you. He was in one of your classes. You frequently spied him from across the lecture hall, tall and good-looking and unapproachable. You’d always thought there was something a little otherworldly about him, but he mostly just looked like another student. You’d had no idea that he wasn’t even human.

And it turned out he wasn’t as intimidating as he looked. He actually seemed pretty nice, even a little bit shy. He’d never fed straight from the skin before — drinking nothing but bagged blood since he was turned — and he wanted to try it at least once. He wasn’t trying to get laid either. Like you, he was much more interested in the aftercare, hoping for something like a cooldown hug once the deed was done. That suited you just fine.

The plan was this: You would meet in Bartleby Park at 11 PM. The exact location didn’t matter, he said; he would come find you. This statement gave you an unexpected thrill. Perhaps the hunting part would be more fun than you’d thought. You would run, and he would chase you. If you screamed, all the better — although this did make a safeword necessary. You chose “cardboard,” the first word that came to your mind, which made him laugh. When he finally caught you, he would bite you on the neck and drink your blood. Then he would take you up to his apartment for first aid and spooning. Simple as that.

Only he wasn’t here yet. It was 11:20 now, and you were still alone. Maybe he was having trouble finding you. Or… was he backing out? That thought stung. You suddenly realized just how much you’d been looking forward to this, and the idea of going home tired and alone made you feel more depressed than ever.

A branch snapped in the trees nearby, and your head whipped toward the sound. Your eyes scanned back and forth across the screen of dark leaves, trying and failing to uncover the culprit.

“Roland?” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to whisper, but suddenly you were having trouble finding your voice. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you jump. It was a text message from your friend:

“How did it go?”

“He’s late, I’m still waiting,” you typed in response.

“Ok… Text me again in an hour or I’m calling the cops.”

Your friends had basically all agreed that this seemed like a bad idea. You were starting to wonder if they were right. You didn’t know Roland at all… even if you knew where he lived and where he went to school. Even if he was cute and he seemed nice.

And even if Roland was fine, Roland wasn’t here. It was late, and the park was deserted. Who knew what other weirdos were prowling around out here.

You were starting to feel genuinely anxious. Beneath the trees, the park was dark, the shadows unaffected by the dim light of the street lamps. What was the safeword again? Cardboard? That was it, right?

There was a rapid noise in the grass behind you — tff tff tff — like something rushing towards you in long leaps. That was the last straw. You launched into a flat-out run, heart hammering, breath coming in gasps.

A pair of cold, hard arms wrapped around you from behind, jerking you to a stop. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and then, almost in the same breath, shouted, “Cardboard cardboard cardboard,” all in a rush; sure that the word would mean nothing to this person; that you were about to be hurt or worse.

But cardboard was the magic word. The arms disappeared from around your chest, and in a flash he was standing in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

And of course it was only Roland, the very person you had agreed to do this with. He was staring into your face, expression distressed, hands gripping your shoulders.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. “It was just… scarier than I expected.”

He was slowly shaking his head back and forth. He looked appalled. “Fuck, I am so sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he was apologizing like that, until you suddenly became aware of the wetness on your cheeks, and the ragged sound of your breathing. Were you crying? God, how fucking embarrassing.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing tears from your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Jesus.”

“No no,” said Roland, “don’t apologize. I think I overdid it. ...And I was pretty late, that definitely didn’t help.”

He was looking around now, frowning into the dark woods, and rubbing your shoulders absently. You were hyper-aware of his hands. They were like ice but every pass of them over your shoulders sent a rush of warmth through you. You felt extremely relieved that he was here, even though he was the reason you’d been so scared in the first place. You wished he would hug you — the desire for this was almost overwhelming — but you felt too dazed and embarrassed to ask.

His eyes met yours once again, and his hands slipped from your shoulders, finding their way into his pockets instead — the exact opposite of what you wanted.

“Uh…” he said. “Do you wanna just skip this part and go straight back to my place?”

A wobbly laugh escaped you, and you nodded weakly. “Are you still gonna suck my blood?” you asked.

“Do you still want me to?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled at that. It was a small, almost shy smile, but enough to give you a good look at his fangs. They looked shockingly white and sharp in the dark.

He started to walk in the direction of his apartment, then paused; and looking back, expression uncertain, he held his hand out towards you. You hesitated for just one second. Then you placed your hand in his, and his cold fingers closed tightly around yours.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Your heart was racing again. When was the last time you’d held someone’s hand? You never wanted him to let go.

Neither of you spoke. You wondered if he was feeling as nervous as you were. You’d thought that the scary part was over, but what about what came next? How badly would it hurt when he bit you? He’d never bitten anyone before, he said. How would he react to his first taste?

When you tried to picture it, all you could imagine were his lips pressed against your skin; and his hand cupping the back of your neck, holding you still. They were not unpleasant images. You felt your face heat up, and you were suddenly grateful for the darkness and the cold night air.

It was a fairly short walk. His apartment was a big single-room studio: TV and sofa in one corner, bed and bookcase in another. Rounded doorways branched off into a kitchen and a bathroom. There was a large white-curtained window in the west wall, and moonlight poured in through the glass, illuminating the plush carpet. It was cozy and uncluttered. Roland watched you look around, then looked around himself.

“Maybe in the kitchen?” he asked. He caught your eye, then glanced quickly away. “So we don’t get blood on the carpet.”

How practical. You followed him into the kitchen, forcing yourself to take even breaths as you went. Vampires were supposed to have excellent hearing. Could he hear how fast your heart was beating?

“Want some water?” he asked, opening a cupboard as he spoke. You peered over his shoulder, tickled to see that the only dishes he seemed to own were drinking glasses; no bowls or plates in sight. What would he need a plate for, after all?

He moved around you to fill the glass with water from the sink. He seemed to be avoiding eye-contact, and you wondered again if he was nervous. Somehow the thought made you feel more at ease. Boldly, you opened his refrigerator to examine the contents. Blood bags, and nothing else. Lots of them. Stacks upon stacks, in neat little rows. You couldn’t quite believe it, even though it was exactly what you’d expected to find.

You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you were afraid it wasn’t good. You turned toward Roland and found him watching you, expression careful; glass of water forgotten in one hand.

“Yeah…” he said.

“Nothing for me?” you asked, grinning, attempting to break the sudden tension.

He grinned back sheepishly. Then he pulled a little juice box out of the pocket of his jacket. It was the kind of thing they gave you after donating blood. You both began to laugh, and a warm, giddy feeling spread through you.

Roland moved closer and patted one of the countertops. “Hop up here?” he asked. You obliged, although it was more of a scramble than a hop. Roland began pulling more small items from the pockets of his jacket, and setting them on the counter next to you: single-use alcohol wipes; a few band-aids; a little roll of gauze, and a roll of medical tape. It became clear to you that he really had intended to bite you in the park, and he had come prepared.

He was standing very close now, almost pressed against your bent knees. You longed to close the distance. You didn’t move. Roland’s movements also grew slower, more hesitant. Stalling.

“Are you nervous?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Why?”

He looked you right in the eye, finally. His expression was serious.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad,” you replied, although you weren’t sure whether you actually believed that.

He frowned, and his eyes travelled down to your neck. He was biting his lip, and his fangs stood out starkly against his skin.

He handed you the glass of water. You drank it. Then you took his hand and gently pulled him closer, spreading your knees wider so he could stand between them. He swallowed visibly.

“I’m nervous too,” you told him.

“I know,” he said, in a hoarse almost-whisper. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Safeword?”

“You can just tell me.”

You were both almost-whispering now, leaning in closer and closer. It felt an awful lot like you were about to share your first kiss.

With one hand, he pulled the collar of your shirt away from your neck, while his other hand slid up to cup the back of your neck. Your heart was hammering with excitement and fear, and his cold fingers felt good against your flushed skin. He lowered his face against your neck, and almost before you knew it his fangs were piercing the skin, creating thin twin wounds that ached immediately. You gasped and grasped handfuls of the fabric of his jacket. Honestly his teeth didn’t hurt much more than a needle, but somehow the reality of it stunned you. He was really going to drink your blood. In that moment, for the first time, you really believed that Roland was something other than human.

His lips closed over the wound. His mouth was wet and unexpectedly hot, and his tongue moved rhythmically against your aching skin as he sucked and swallowed your blood. He made a low sound deep in his throat — the type of contented groan that a good bite of food might inspire. You had to hold your breath to keep from responding in kind.

This was erotic. You couldn’t help thinking of it that way. Your grip on his jacket tightened, and you forced yourself not to squeeze your knees more tightly around his waist. You wondered if he felt it too. Was this exciting him at all? Or was this just a meal to him?

You couldn’t have said how long this went on — it was probably minutes, though it felt longer — but eventually he stopped drinking and pulled away. Somehow a piece of gauze was already in his hand; he pressed it to your neck, holding it firmly against the bite. You stared at each other, both breathing unevenly. His cheeks, so colorless before, were now flushed.

He cleared his throat and licked blood off his lips.

“Are you okay,” he asked, voice rough.

“I’m ok,” you said, although you actually felt a little dizzy. You felt around for the juice box. “Was that enough?”

He nodded his head and grabbed the juice box, pressing it into your reaching hand. He seemed a little dazed. He tore open one of the alcohol wipes, and while you drank your juice he disinfected the bite marks. You hissed at the stinging pain, and he grimaced in sympathy. Then he taped a fresh strip of gauze over the bite.

“It didn’t hurt that bad,” you reported between sips.

“Good,” he said. But he was starting to look unhappy again, frowning as he watched you sip your juice. Your heart sank a little in your chest. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed this as much as you had.

“Are you ok?” you asked him.

He didn’t respond at first. And then he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. You bit back a huff of surprise. He was no longer cold — drinking your blood had warmed his whole body.

“What is it?” you whispered.

He heaved an enormous sigh next to your ear. “You just looked so scared in the park,” he said. You could feel the vibration of his voice against your chest. “I feel really bad.”

You didn’t feel bad. One of his large hands was pressed against your back, warm and reassuring, and the other was cupped around the back of your head. Your chest was pressed flush against his, and he was warm and solid and worried about you. You gave up trying to resist the urge to touch him. You put your arms around him, and squeezed your knees tighter against his waist, pulling him even closer to you. You let your head fall forward to rest against his neck, but as soon as you closed your eyes, the room began to whirl around you.

“Um,” you gasped. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Oh,” he said, a little catch of surprise in his voice. He pulled away. “Um. Let me, uh...”

Carefully, he slipped his hand under your knees, and gathered you up into his arms. You threw your own arms around his neck, shamelessly clinging to him as he carried you out of the kitchen with no apparent effort. He paused in the doorway and looked down at you.

“The bed or the couch?” he asked.

“The bed,” you said against his chest, hoping that this was not too bold. He didn’t seem to think so. He carried you across the room, careful not to jostle you, and gently laid you down on top of the comforter.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

You nodded your head. You were quite cold, actually; another effect of the blood loss.

Roland stood and went over to a small closet, where he retrieved a stack of thick, warm-colored blankets. He shook them out and draped them over you in layers, and their warm weight made you feel better almost immediately.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No problem,” he replied. He stood by the side of the bed, unmoving. He seemed to be struggling for words. “Um… Do you still want to…”

“Yes,” you said emphatically, and you peeled back the blankets to make space for him.

He looked self-conscious, but he didn’t hesitate. He crawled under the blankets, and carefully pulled you into his arms, settling your head against his shoulder. His body was still warm with your blood, and you pressed into him eagerly.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“It’s perfect,” you said. You placed your hand flat on his chest, then sighed happily, which made him laugh. He laid his hand over yours, curling his fingers around it.

That was almost too much. Your chest felt fit to burst with it. You kept waiting to wake up, sure that you must have dreamt this whole thing. You still couldn’t believe he’d drunk your blood. His teeth had been inside of you. And as much as that weirded you out, it kind of turned you on too.

You suddenly remembered that you were supposed to text your friends back. You shifted around, and Roland loosed his hold on you to let you pull your phone out of your pocket.

“I’m letting my friends know you didn’t murder me,” you explained as you typed. You’d meant it as a joke, but you regretted the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you hurried to say, turning in his arms to face him, and wincing at the pain in your neck. “I didn’t really think you would…”

He shook his head before you could say anything else. “It’s ok. Biting someone…” He ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “Well, it’s an inherently violent act. Some people get carried away. Your friends weren’t wrong to be worried.”

“I feel safe with you though,” you said.

“Oh. Good.” He ducked his head, and his cheeks turned the pinkest they’d been all night. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest. He was really adorable… You hadn’t expect that, watching him from afar. You pulled closer to him, putting your arms around him and laying your head against his chest. He tucked the blankets more snugly around your shoulders.

“This is really nice,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“How did you like biting me?” You forced the words out before you could lose your nerve. You hoped you weren’t making it awkward, but you had to know.

Roland didn’t answer at first. Then he let out a breath, and slid one of his hands over his face. “Not gonna lie,” he said. “It was way better than drinking bagged blood.”

“Oh, good!” you said, laughing. “I’m glad. I was worried you didn’t like it.”

“I definitely liked it…” he said, still covering his face. “You taste amazing.”

You felt your face turn bright red. There was a double-entendre in there somewhere, although you guessed it was unintentional. I’d like to taste you next, you thought wildly, and once again, you found yourself wondering if you were the only one whose mind had wandered into the gutter tonight.

He seemed to sense your sudden discomfort, if not its source, because he uncovered his face and said, “I’m sorry, that was a super weird thing to say.”

You shook your head against his chest. “I liked it too,” you admitted. “When you bit me.” Then, still more softly: “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again sometime.”

You heard him swallow. “I’d like that.”

You lapsed into a warm silence, untroubled and comfortable, and you basked in his presence like a cat in sunlight. You were aware of every part of him that was pressed against you: his chest rising and falling beneath you, and his hands pressed against your back, and his legs tangled with yours beneath the blankets, chaste but intimate, and ripe with potential.

You definitely wanted to kiss him. You opened your mouth to float the idea, but you were overcome by an enormous yawn. You suddenly realized you had no idea what time it was. It felt really late, but maybe you were just tired out from all the excitement.

“Was I falling asleep?” you asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“I should probably get home,” you said, but then made no move to get up. You heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t wanna go yet though,” you complained, “I’m so cozy.”

“Do you wanna stay here?”

You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “Stay the night?”

“We don’t have to do anything weird,” he said, turning pink again. You stared at each other for a moment. Then he gently pushed your head back down to his chest, so that you weren’t looking at him when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go yet.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. As if you weren’t already convinced. “I won’t throw off your day? I mean your night?”

You felt him shrug. “I was just gonna do homework.”

That drew a surprised laugh out of you. You’d almost forgotten that Roland wasn’t just your weird vampire hookup. He was your classmate too.

“Do you know that we’re in the same class?” you asked, playfully accusing.

“Yeah,” he admitted, with a bit of a laugh in his voice. “I recognized you when we got coffee.”

That surprised you. “I thought I was the only one,” you said.

“I noticed you sitting in back sometimes.” His hand was still resting against the side of your head, and his fingers moved absently through strands of your hair. “I thought you looked cool.”

“Good,” you said, which made him laugh. You grinned against his chest. “I want to stay. Can I?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice soft, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around you.

#exophilia #monster romance #monster boyfriend #vampire boyfriend #monsterkinkmeme #sighs writing

258 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 3 years

Text

Day-to-Day

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings series

Chapter 3: Jack

Word count: 4.2k

Read over on a03, or below the cut:

Let me know what you think :)

November 2002

Emily thought she knew what exhaustion was, thought that the long days and short nights at the BAU had taught her how to function on small bursts of sleep.

Then she had a baby.

Her body was running on fumes. The 36 hours she had spent in labour with Theo had left her shattered, and in the three weeks since her baby was first placed on her chest she didn’t think she had slept more than 90 minutes at a time.

She groans as Theo cries out from the bassinet sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching out for him before he could wake Aaron up. It was his first day back at work in the morning after his paternity leave and she wanted him to get as much sleep as possible

“Ok, sweet boy.” She says, lifting the baby into her arms and settling back into bed, she one handedly shrugs off her pyjama shirt and undoes her maternity bra so she can feed her son.

She rests her head against the headboard and closes her eyes, knowing it was only a few short hours until the day would begin. ______________

Aaron wakes to find his wife sat up, her eyes closed as she leant against the headboard, Theo fast asleep on her chest. She was wearing her maternity bra and her sweatpants, clearly having given up on a shirt at some point in the night. She had one hand cupped under the baby’s bottom, the other hand moving up and down his back. The movement was the only sign that she was awake.

“Your son hates sleep.” She murmurs, opening her eyes to look down at Theo. “Well, apparently he hates me sleeping.”

Aaron sits up next to her and kisses her bare shoulder and cups the back of Theo’s head. “You should have woken me up.”

She smiles at him, exhaustion clear across her face. “You have work, it didn’t make sense for both of us to be up.”

“Can I help at all?”

“Can you take Jack to school?” She asks, looking back down at Theo. “Now he’s sleeping I might try and have a nap.”

“Of course.” ______________

She’s late picking up Jack from school. Theo had slept in the afternoon, and so had she, and the next thing she knew she should have already been out of the house. She gets there as soon as she can, Theo screaming in the back seat and her nerves very much on edge.

“Ok, baby. Please stop crying.” She practically begs as the car pulls up to the school drop off, Jack stood there with his teacher. She steps out the car, and opens the door for Jack to get in. He gets in, not even looking at Emily as he clicks his seatbelt into place. Pulling the door shut, muting the sound of Theo’s crying. Emily turns to Jack’s teacher, sees the sympathetic look on her face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs Hotchner. I’ve been there myself.”

Emily smiles and nods at her as she gets back in the car. She sees Jack in the rearview mirror, the upset on his face clear as his younger brother continues to cry.

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

He doesn’t respond. _______________

Aaron gets held up at work on his first day back, leaving Emily to sort dinner for a still grumpy Jack as she tries to soothe Theo. She ends up with Theo in a baby wrap, content to sleep against her as she cleans away dishes from the, very mediocre, mac and cheese she had made.

Jack is still sulking when she walks back into the living room, his eyes fixed on the tv screen as he ignores her.

“Jack, sweetie, that's enough cartoons for tonight.” She says gently, feeling like she was treading on eggshells. He made no move to turn the tv off, the usually very reasonable 9 year old ignoring her. Emily sighs, one of her hands on Theo’s back, as she walks further into the living room, turning off the tv herself.

He finally turns to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminded her of Aaron. “I was watching that.”

She raises her eyebrows at his tone. “Jack.” She says calmly. “Please don’t speak to me like that.”

Jack rolls his eyes at her and stands, walking past her. “Whatever, Emily.”

“Jack.” She says firmer this time. “I know you’re upset, but you have to be respectful, ok?”

“You’re not my mom.” He replies. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Emily feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, exhaustion and everything that being a mother to a newborn makes her react in a way it usually wouldn’t. “Go to your room.”

“I hate you.” He says as he stomps up the stairs, slamming the door to his bedroom loud enough to wake Theo.

Emily shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes as she tries to soothe the baby. ______________

When Aaron gets home he finds his wife crying on the couch, Theo in her arms and the baby wrap abandoned next to her.

“Sweetheart.” He immediately puts his briefcase down and sits next to her, gathering her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

“I suck at this.”

He cups the back of her head, pulls her face from his neck so he can look at her. “You suck at what?”

“Being a mom.”

It takes him a second to react, her words surprising him. “Em, you’re the best mom.” He says firmly, not even entertaining her comments for a second. “What happened?”

“I was late picking up Jack from school.” She says, shifting a, miraculously, sleeping Theo to rest his head on her shoulder. “I overslept and he was so mad.” She shakes her head at herself. “And he was grumpy all evening, and told me I wasn’t his mom. I overreacted and sent him to his room.” She clears her throat. “He told me he hated me.”

He sighs and cups her cheek and kisses her forehead. “That doesn’t make you a bad mom, baby. You’re exhausted. And Jack is adjusting. He’s gone from being just with Haley, to losing her, to living with us and becoming a big brother all within just under 10 months. That’s a lot for anyone, let alone a 9 year old.”

Emily nods. “You’re right.”

“And he doesn’t hate you. Far from it. He’s just not used to sharing you. Sibling jealousy is completely normal, even when you don’t include the rest of it.” He kisses her forehead. “Want me to talk to him?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ll do it.” __________

She gently knocks on Jack’s door an hour later. The baby settled and Aaron with him.

“Jack, it’s Emily.”

There's a pause, and for a moment she thinks he’s fallen asleep. “Come in.”

Emily walks in and smiles at him. He was sat in his bed, his favourite toy tucked under his arm. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi.”

She closes the door behind her and sits on the edge of his bed. “Should we talk about earlier?”

He looks away from her, sniffs as he looks down at his bedsheets. “I’m sorry.”

She places her hand under his chin and makes him look up at her. “I am sorry too, I think we were both a bit sad and said things we shouldn’t have.”

Jack nods and suddenly moves towards her, hugging her. She wraps her arms around him too and kisses his hair. “I’m sorry, Emily. I don’t hate you.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheat.” She kisses his hair again, her hand running up and down his back. “I’ve had an idea.” He removes himself from her grasp, his head tilted in curiosity at her.

“What idea?”

“How about on Saturday, dad stays home with Theo for an hour or so and you and I go get breakfast at the usual place?”

“Just the two of us?” He asks, the hope on his face making her chest swell.

“Just the two of us.” She confirms, ruffling his hair. “What do you think?”

His smile is the only answer she needs. ______________

August 2012

It’s when Sara asks him about the picture that he keeps in his dorm room that Jack really, truly, thinks about it for the first time.

It’s a picture taken at his high school graduation. Emily on one side of him, Amelia on her hip, his dad on the other with Theo in front of him. All of them have wide smiles on their faces. The trauma they had been through less than a year before, and still lived with, not present in the happy family photo.

Sara smiles when she sees it and picks it up off of his desk. “Wow, is that your mom? She’s so pretty.”

Jack finds himself almost unable to answer for a moment, unsure how to explain his family dynamic to his new girlfriend. That he had only met his dad when his mom was dying. That a bigger part of him than he would admit had spent the last decade of his life watching Emily with Theo and now Amelia wishing that she was his mom too.

“Yeah.” He says before he can think about it. “Well, technically no.” He corrects, shaking his head at himself, immediate guilt for discounting Haley. Sarah frowns at him and puts the photo back down. Jack sighs, running his hand through his hair. “My mom died when I was 9. Emily is my stepmom, she’s raised me since then.”

Sara smiles at him and reaches for his hand. “Did I ever tell you my dad is technically my stepdad?”

Jack shakes his head at that, the new information about his girlfriend sinking in.

“Well.” She continues. “He married my mom when I was 12, but he’s always been there since then. He’s my dad.” She pauses as if she’s considering if it’s her place to continue, but after a moment she does, a kind smile on her face. “It’s ok if you consider Emily as your mom, you know? I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind.”

That night he lies in bed and looks at the picture, thinks of how Emily had been there through everything since they’d met. How far they had come since she was teaching him Spanish to distract him from an argument between his parents. How far she had gone to protect him and his siblings when they were separated from his dad, sacrificing her own happiness for them. How fiercely she loved him, the way he knew she would go to war with anyone who hurt him.

She was his mom. ______________

November 2012

Jack gets more and more nervous as they approach Arlington. Sara was coming to meet his family for the first time, for Thanksgiving break of all things. He’d felt confident when he had first suggested it, wanting his girlfriend to know that part of his life.

Now he was more unsure than ever.

“I wish you’d calm down.” Sara says, rolling her eyes at him from where she was sat in the passenger seat. “Isn’t it me that’s meant to be nervous?”

“I know, it’s just...they are really intense.”

Sara stares at him for a second before sighing. “Ok fine, do you want to go over it all again?” She suppresses a smile when he looks almost relieved at her suggestion. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t be surprised if you hear more than one language being spoken.” Jack says as they pull off the freeway. “And, despite how much she might end up talking about her job, please don’t let Mom scare you.” ______________

Emily smiles as she opens the front door to Jack and Sara, beckoning them in from the cold. She immediately pulls Jack into a hug, which he gladly returns.

“Jack, I missed you.” She pulls back to look at him, to try and see if he had somehow changed in the few months it had been since he had last been home. “Your dad will be glad to see you, he’s been talking about this all week.”

Jack smiles at her. “It’s nice to be home.” He clears his throat as he pulls away and grabs his girlfriend's hand. “This is Sara.” He turns to Sara and smiles at her before turning back to Emily. “Sara, this is my mom - Emily.”

Emily swears her brain short wires for a second. Jack had never called her mom before, exclusively calling her by her first name the entirety of their relationship. She doesn’t have time to react before Sara smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Emily.”

She recovers in a second, pushing the emotions down until she has time to process them later. “Lovely to meet you too.”

They all turn to the sound of small feet hitting the hardwood floors, Amelia careening into the back of her mothers legs. She wraps her arms around Emily’s leg, shyly peering out from behind her. Emily smiles, grateful for the distraction, as she bends down and picks her up, settling the 3 year old on her hip.

“Amelia, this is Sara.” She says pointing at her, a smile on her face. “She’s Jack’s girlfriend.” Amelia proceeds to bury her face into Emily’s neck, making her smile and kiss the side of her daughter's head. “Sorry, she can be a bit shy around new people.”

Jack leans forward to try and catch Amelia’s eyeline. “Millie, can I have a hug?”

Amelia turns her face to look at Jack, her hand playing with Emily’s hair, before she smiles at her brother and leans towards him, smiling as he scoops her into his arms.

Emily smiles as she watches her youngest and her eldest together, Amelia giggling as Jack tickles her, brings her out of her shell so he can introduce her to Sara properly. Theo bounds down the stairs to see his brother, the way he had missed him was clear for everyone to see.

She feels the emotion flare in her chest again, the memory of how it sounded when he called her mom flooding through her. ______________

Aaron walks into his bedroom, a small sigh as he runs his hands through his hair, Amelia’s demands for Emily to come read her a story making settling her down for the night. He hears water running in the ensuite and heads towards it.

“Sweetheart? Apparently I won’t do for storytime tonight.” He walks into the bathroom. “You do the voices better…” He trails off when his eyes land on his wife, the way she quickly wipes her face to get rid of the tears she is clearly trying to hide from him. “Em, baby? What’s wrong?”

He places his hand on her cheek and the dam breaks, tears streaming down her face. He pulls his wife into a hug, feels the way she grasps the back of his polo shirt, her fingers digging into the material.

“It’s stupid.” She sniffs into his shirt.

“You’re never stupid.” He says, his hand running up and down her back. He pulls back enough to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Jack called me mom, Aaron.” She says, sniffing as more tears fall down her cheeks. “He’s never done that before.”

Aaron smiles at her. It hadn’t escaped him that his son had been calling her that all night, as if he had been for years. He’d noticed Emily’s momentary reaction every time, the way she froze slightly before suppressing a smile.

“You are his mom, Em. You and Haley both are. Despite the circumstances, he’s been lucky enough to have both of you.”

She smiles at him, laughing at herself as she wipes tears away from her face. “I know, and I’ve always been happy for him to call me whatever he wants to.” She shakes her head as more tears start to fall. “I just don’t think I realised how much it would mean to me.”

Aaron leans forward and kisses her forehead. “Love you.”

“You too.” She hugs him close, letting him hold her tightly. “What were you saying about storytime?”

Aaron chuckles before pulling back to look at her. “According to our daughter I can’t do the voices like you can.”

Emily laughs. “I should probably go read to her then.”

“Why don’t you get into bed? I’ll bring her in here.”

“If we do that she’ll fall asleep with us, we’ll never get her back to her own room.” She raises an eyebrow at him, he’d always been the firmest in keeping their children in their own beds.

“We can break the rules just this once.”

She is just settling into bed when Aaron walks back in, a sleepy looking Amelia perched on his hip, her storybook in her hand.

“Hi sweet girl.” Emily says as Aaron places Amelia on the bed, the toddler immediately crawling under the covers and curling up against her mother.

Amelia tilts her head at Emily and places her hand on her cheek, clearly taking in her blotchy skin and red eyes. “Mama sad?”

“Oh, no sweetie. Mama is ok.” She kisses the side of Amelia’s head and takes the book out of her hand, smiling as she realises it was Goodnight Moon, the same book she had read to her daughter every night so far that week.

Aaron climbs into bed next to them, wrapping an arm around both of them as Emily opens the book, pleased to have both of his girls in his arms.

______________

June 2018

“Mom?”

Emily turns around in her kitchen, a cup of tea in hand, and smiles when she sees Jack standing behind her.

“Jack! Hi.” She rounds the kitchen counter to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

He hugs her back. “I had no more classes today, thought I’d pop by before Sara was done.” They had moved back to the DC area after college, both of them going to medical school at Georgetown. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She looks at him curiously. “Of course. Shall we go sit down?”

They settle in the living room, Jack suddenly seeming nervous as he clears his throat and pulls a small box out of his jeans pocket, passing it over to Emily. She opens it and her eyes widen at the ring inside.

“It’s beautiful Jack.” She smiles at him. “I am already married though.”

“Mom.” He says, unamused at her attempt at humour.

“Sorry.” She bites her lip to stop herself from smiling. “So you’re going to propose to Sara. How are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. How did Dad propose to you?”

Emily smiles at the memory. “I’d actually just had my tonsils removed and he was looking after me. I woke up from a nap and he just asked me.” She laughs. “Actually it’s more like he told me. He just said ‘marry me.’” Emily realises that hasn’t helped at all. “Jack, you’ve just got to do what’s right for you and Sara. You’ll think of something.”

“Dad thinks I’m too young.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “I think what your dad is forgetting is that I was your age when we got married.”

“What was it like when you planned your wedding?” Jack asks, the idea of planning his own stressing him out even before he proposed. Emily smiles at that, his confidence in the fact Sara would say yes.

Emily knew she would too.

“Oh I had very little to do with it. I just let my mother get on with it. The only things I picked were your dad and my dress, and let me tell you she had something to say about both those choices.” She smiles at Jack, a slight look of mischief on her face. “I’m sure if we called her she’d be happy to help.”

Jack pales slightly at the mention of Elizabeth’s involvement. “Oh god, no.” ______________

May 2019

Emily finds him exactly where she expected to. She smiles reassuringly at him when he turns around to look at her, before turning back to look at Haley’s grave.

It was a tradition of sorts. Jack came here whenever he had a big life event, anytime it was an important day. His high school graduation, as soon as he could after his college graduation. The day he finished med school.

“I thought I’d find you here.” She says as she reaches him, standing next to him. “Are you ok?”

“Yes.” He answers quickly, before turning to look at her, smiling sadly as she quirks an eyebrow at him. “No. I feel guilty.” Jack says, looking back at the granite headstone in front of him, purposely not looking at Emily.

She furrows her brow. “Guilty about what?”

“That I don’t immediately miss my mom in moments like this. It’s the biggest day of my life and part of me feels like I’ve come here out of obligation.” He admits. “She’s been gone so much longer than I had her, and sometimes I forget you aren’t my biological mom.” He sniffs, his jaw tightening as he tries to hold back his emotions. “And then I remember and I feel awful.”

Emily had spent the entire time she had known Jack wishing she could take his pain, his grief, away. Grief Emily had got a taste of only the year before when she lost her father. He had lost his mother at such a young age, and hadn’t known his father for the first several years of his life. He still had so many unanswered questions, things Haley had never had the chance to fully explain to him.

“Sweetheart.” She says, placing her arm around him and putting her hand on his shoulder. “She wouldn’t want you to feel like this. She loved you so much.”

He nods, wrapping his arm around her. “Is everyone worried?”

“Sara doesn’t think you’ve left her at the altar if that’s what you mean.” Emily says, a wry smile on her face. “But we should get going.” ______________

Emily smiles as she dances with Jack, Sara and her father dancing alongside them.

“Thanks for today.” Jack says, a smile on his face as he looks at her.

“No need to thank me, Jack.”

He hums in his throat in disbelief. “I have a lot to thank you for really.”

“Jack-”

“We’ve never really talked about it.” He says, the song they were dancing to fading into the background. “The older I’ve got the more I’ve realised how hard it must have been for you at the start, but you’ve never said anything. Never really made me feel any different.”

Emily smiles at him, emotion welling in her chest. “Jack, of course I didn’t. You were a kid. You’re my kid.”

He stops the dance, the music coming to an end anyway. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Jack.”

“Can I cut in?”

They both turn to see Aaron standing there, smiling at both of them. Jack steps back, indicating his father can step in to dance with Emily.

“I should go see my wife.” Jack says as he steps away.

Aaron smiles at Emily as he pulls her to him, one arm banding around her back, the other grasping her hand in his. “I remember dancing at our wedding.”

Emily laughs. “That was so long ago now.”

“We’re getting old, Mrs Hotchner.”

She makes an outraged noise, uses the hand on his shoulder to smack him lightly. “Speak for yourself, Mr Hotchner.” ______________

Emily kisses the side of Amelia’s head, her daughter fast asleep on her lap, the excitement of the day too much for the 10 year old, the evening now passin into the early hours of the following morning. She laughs when she sees Theo dragging Elizabeth up to dance, always able to convince his grandmother to do anything.

“Hi sweetheart.” Aaron says as he drags a chair next to her and sits down, throwing his arm across the back of her chair. “Is she ok?” He asks, smiling at Amelia, her head pressed against Emily’s shoulder, her mouth hanging open slightly as she sleeps.

“She’s fine, she’s just tired.”

He kisses his wife's temple. “It has been a long day.” He looks over to Theo and Elizabeth and back to his wife, not missing the sad smile on her face. “Are you ok?”

Emily looks at him. “Yeah. I just wish Dad could be here, that’s all.” She sighs, the thought of John’s death only the year before still felt sharp to her at times. The feeling she had when she got the call was still fresh, as if it had happened only yesterday.

“I know you do, baby. I do too.” He kisses her temple again, trying to press all of his love and support into her skin

“He really loved Jack.”

Aaron smiles at that, memories of Jack trying to teach John how to play video games. The way he had instantly had the older man wrapped around his finger as soon as they had met.

“The feeling was mutual.”

They sit there and watch their eldest dance with his new wife, the promise of a new beginning hanging in the air.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #Hotchniss AU #WTB Universe #ITSWM #Day-to-Day #criminal minds fanfiction #family fluff #Criminal Minds AU #Jack Hotchner

39 notes · View notes

a-cupof-jo · 3 years

Text

Latte Love

Barista!Lucas x fem!reader

Fluff

Wc: 1.7k

Requested: yes

Warning(s) : some cursing

Prompts:

"Are you flirting with me?"

"You finally noticed?"

Synopsis:

So, maybe you had been flirting with him for the past few weeks, but he never said anything. In fact, you were pretty sure he was just ignoring your efforts at flirting with him. You sighed as you pushed your headphones onto your head. Maybe you should just give up. If he hasn’t said anything yet, he’s not going to.

"One medium vanilla latte." You watched as the barista rubbed his eye, setting down the drink on the open pick up window. Spinning the cup his eyes narrowed, “For Y/n.” Recognition flashed across his face. He looked up blearily as you stood opposite of him. It’s been nearly a month since you started stopping by the small cafe before your morning classes. Every Wednesday and Friday you stopped at the hole in the wall cafe that you walked past to get to campus. From the first morning you stepped into the cafe, you knew that you would be coming back. If not for the good coffee then for the friendly, conventionally attractive barista that took your order.

“Morning Lucas,” you grabbed the paper cup. The heat from the contents inside makes you place it back on the counter. “Could I get a cup sleeve?” Lucas yawned as he reached behind the counter for the small piece of cardboard. “Late night?”

“Bella kept me up all night,” Lucas glared at the espresso makers as he slid in the coffee grounds. “She keeps barking at nothing. My roommate thinks it’s ghosts.”

“She’s still a pup right?” You pried open the cups lids so some hot stream would float out. At Lucas’s nod you shrugged, “Then I wouldn’t worry about it. Probably just some noise from outside or around your apartment.” Lucas glanced at the cups that still needed to be filled with customers' orders as he tilts his head. “Well, I better get going. Professors wait for no one.” You turn to the door throwing a quick, “Thanks for the coffee, handsome.” His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced back up at you. You quickly left the shop and hurried down the street. So, maybe you had been flirting with him for the past few weeks, but he never said anything. In fact, you were pretty sure he was just ignoring your efforts at flirting with him. You sighed as you pushed your headphones onto your head. Maybe you should just give up. If he hasn’t said anything yet, he’s not going to.

You shook the umbrella out as you stepped under the awning. A sigh left your lips as the smell of fresh brewed coffee met your senses. You looked around for the broad shouldered barista that usually stood at the counter. Instead, a smaller, smiley boy stood in his place. Yangyang glanced up as you approached the counter. “Morning,” your voice rasped out.

“Good morning!” Yangyang bounced in place as he punched in your order. You swiped your card as he turned the screen to you. Yangyang stared at you for a second before clearing his throat, “I’ll have you order out in a minute.”

You nod going to stand over by the pick-up window. Lucas was nowhere to be seen as you watched Yangyang quickly worked on your drink. Giving a quick stir he set it down on the counter, “Y/n your drink,” he smiled as you approached the counter. “Oh, just so you know-” a gust of cold wind blew through the small cafe as a door slammed open.

“I’m late!” Lucas raced through the door, clothes soaked and hair dripping water. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I overslept. Has sh-” His panicked eyes locked on yours and he smiled. “Hey, Y/n,” his voice rasped as he moved to the other side of the counter. “I see you already got your drink.” He motioned to the cup.

You give him a grin, nodding your head before lifting the cups to your lips, “Sorry I missed you this morning.” You watched him as he tapped the register screen in front of him. You walked towards the door your umbrella partially opened in your left hand.

“Have a good day,” Lucas called out his hand raised in a slight wave.

You grinned at him, “After seeing you, I know I will.” You watched as his face flickered to confused and his hand dropped. You felt the smile fall off your face. Opening the umbrella you raced out of the coffeeshop. It was official, he didn’t like you. You can never show your face there again.

“One vanilla latte,” a cup settled in front of you. You startle at the arm reaching over your shoulder. “For Y/n.” His voice was soft in your ear as you watched his arm disappear behind you. He stepped around the table and motioned to the chair across from you, “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Lucas,” you gaped at him a second nodding when he shifted to the balls of his feet. “Yes, I- go ahead.” He pulled out the chair setting down his own drink. “What are you- why are you- I didn’t know that you-”

Lucas chuckled at your babbling, “I had to come on campus to see the prettiest girl.”

“What?” You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips. “I don't get it, what are you?”

“Your smile brightens the room,” he cut you off. Glancing around the small room he tapped his fingers on the table. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re the sun? Cause you're hotter than a sunburn.” He bit his lip as he stared at you waiting for your reaction.

“Are-” you stared at your steaming cup of coffee before looking back up at him. “Are you flirting with me?”

Lucas grinned his hands reaching over the table and clasping together in front of you, “If I am? How would that make you feel?”

You scoffed, “Are you serious?” Lucas’s face fell before he pushed his chair back. “Wait, Lucas,” you stood grabbing his wrist as he stepped around you. “That’s not how I meant it.” He raised an eyebrow as you tugged him to sit again. “Lucas, I went to your coffee shop at 7 am twice a week every week for a month. Why do you think I did that?”

Lucas shrugged, “You really like coffee?”

“I do,” you grin. “But,” you tug on his hand to draw his eyes to yours. “There is also this really cute barista that works there in the morning. I wasn’t sure before, but I kind of think he might like me. You see, I would flirt with him every time I went in there, but then I thought he didn’t reciprocate my feelings and I embarrassed myself in front of him.” You gave him an apologetic shrug as he registered your words.

“Is that why you haven't been back in 3 weeks?”

A bashful laugh left your lips, “Maybe? In my defence,” you raised a finger as his eyebrows pinched together, “I had flirted with you for an entire month and you never made any indication that you even heard me.”

“Well,” Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t? I mean I did! I just didn’t realize that you were flirting with me.” His hands waved around as he tried to explain himself, “The last couple of times you came in I thought you had said something and then Yangyang mentioned something.” His eyes caught yours as a pout settled on his lips, “After that you stopped coming in, so I couldn’t say anything.”

“Are you telling me that you realized I was flirting with you because of Yangyang?” You sipped on the sweet coffee Lucas brought you.

Lucas shrugged, “Kinda,” he tapped on the table again. “I also found out from him that you would be here today.”

“How?”

“He said he saw you here a couple weeks in a row, and he told me cause I… I really wanted to see you again,” he gave you a sheepish grin. You opened your mouth to respond when he glanced down at his watch. “Ah, shit.” He grabbed his cup and pushed his chair back. “I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go. I told the manager I would only be 15 minutes and I’m gonna be late.” He tossed his emptied cup in the trash can before turning spastically back to you. “Come in tomorrow morning. Please,” he pleaded when you hesitated. “Come in and let me finish fixing this.” You nod and he grinned before swooping down to kiss your cheek and race out of the busy study center. You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face as a hand cupped the cheek he placed a kiss on.

“You look like you have great taste,” you stepped up to the counter where the barista was hunched over. “What would you recommend?” Lucas’s head snapped up as you tapped a finger on the counter in mock concentration.

“That really depends,” he glanced up at the board behind him. “Are you looking for something sweet or something that has more of a punch.”

“Definitely sweet.”

“Okay, how do you feel about mochas.”

“Too sweet.”

Lucas hummed his hand thumping on the top of his ordering screen, “I think I have the perfect thing for you.”

“Wouldn’t that be you?” you grinned as Lucas sputtered out your order total.

“I’ll have that ready for you in a minute.”

You grinned as you watched him make your drink. Occasionally he would look up and give you a smile before continuing on his task. He set the cup on the counter, “One medium vanilla latte,” you shook your head in amusement as he caught your eye, “For Y/n”

“You know, for someone so handsome I figured you’d go for something more,” you pause as you watched Lucas’s grin grow, “flashy.” You let your eyes scan his frame. “At least it’s hot, right?��

“Are you” Lucas placed his hands on his hips, “flirting with me?” His head tilted in question, eyebrow raising as he attempted to keep in a laugh.

Your hand froze wrapped halfway around the cup that rested on the counter. You hummed before looking back up at him, “You finally noticed?” You let your eyes scan his frame again as he nodded. Turning towards the door you threw a challenging over your should, “So, are you going to do anything about it or am I going to be on campus an hour before I need to be?”

“Give me 15 minutes?”

“I’d give you eternity.”

tag list : @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

network: @k-flixnet

#lucas x reader #lucas scenarios #ficscafe #wayv scenarios #k flixnet #wayv fluff #lucas fluff #lucas fic #wayv fic

69 notes · View notes

fandomscombine · 3 years

Text

Boxing Day

Fred Weasley x Reader

BG: You and Fred had made a deal that there won’t be presents exchanged this year but you had stumbled onto something you just had to share.

a/n: Happy 2021! Hope the new year has been good to you so far. Yes it’s a Holiday fic but between my Christmas hiatus and unforeseen food poisoning and vomiting in this first week. It’s only now I had time to catch up on writing and posting!

WC: 895

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

You awoke to a soft caressing voice.

‘Morning Beautiful, time to wake up’ said your husband, tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

Nuzzling your face closer to the pillow, you groaned. You were not a morning person. Especially during the holidays- why get up when you can stay in bed all day?

Suddenly the warmth was stripped away, in its place was a harsh cold breeze.

‘Freddie!’ You scream, bolting up right. ‘Give it back! It’s freezing!’ You were eager to get back the thick blanket, despite wearing your fleece pyjamas, it was not strong enough against the rural winter.

‘No can do. Everyone is already downstairs exchanging presents!’

‘WHAT?! FREDD!’ You can’t believe he woke you up late, your First Weasley Christmas- well first Weasley Christmas as an official Weasley. Gosh this is so embarrassing.

Fred raised his arms in surrender. ‘In my defence, I did wake you up like 2 times before.’ ‘You were the one who kept on sleeping going “5 more minutes”.’ He imitated.

‘Alright Alright.’ You gave in, fighting would only cause you to delay further. ‘Just give me a sec to freshen up.’

‘Great, I’ll tell them you’ll be right down!’ Giving you a quick kiss goodbye.

That is one of the small things you love about your husband. When alone, his sweet gestures go out by a million. Pecking your cheek even if he were just to grab something in the other room.

Cutting your thoughts short, you hastily made yourself more presentable then your current bedhead self.

Almost forgetting to grab the most important thing you had secret brought.

‘Dammit Fred’ you muttered. ‘Why’d you have to toss the blanket onto our luggage?’

Rummaging through your bag, you finally felt it.

‘Aha!’ You exclaimed, shoving it into your jacket pocket just in time as the bedroom door opened.

‘You ready y/n? Everyone is waiting.’

‘There she is!’ greeted Molly, pulling you into a big mom hug.

‘Sorry I’m late. Overslept.’

‘It’s alright dear, now…’ Handing you a big paper bag. ‘This is for you.’

‘Oh wow! Thanks Molly!’ It was knitted sweater with your initial.’

‘Check the back.’ She winked.

So you did, and upon reading what was stitched you couldn’t help but cry.

Fred was in mid conversation with Arthur when heard Ron say. ‘Wait why is y/n crying?’

Like any worried husband would, Fred was beside you in an instant.

Stroking your back, he asks. ‘What wrong sweetheart?’

‘Oh it’s nothing its just…’ You replied, pulling away from Molly.

‘y/n Weasley.’ He reads, noting the sweater now on your lap.

‘yeah.’

When you were still dating Fred, you were lucky enough to have been given your own knitted wear by Molly. But you have to admit, there is just something that hits different this time around now that they are your in-laws.

‘Now why don’t we all have breakfast’ announced Arthur.

Ron quickly stood, ribbons of wrapping paper falling from his lap. ‘Yess Finally! I am STARVING!’

This was the perfect moment, it’s now or never.

You cleared your throat, ‘Actually…’ effectively causing to everyone to pause mid-way to the kitchen.

Ron popped back into the living room, a minced pie in hand.

You stood, gently removing the small blue box from your pocket, handing it to your puzzled husband.

‘What’s-‘ Fred eyed the box in his hand, clearly confused. ‘I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year.’

‘I know I know, with the new house and all- we promised. But this didn’t cost anything- well a tiny bit but it’s nothing.’

‘Y/n…’ Fred warned, feeling guilty that he hadn’t a present for you. He should have known that you would get him something, it was your first year as a married couple after all.

‘Just Open it!’ You were biting your knuckles both from excitement and nerves.

Fred looked around; all eyes were on him. He smiled giving in to your request.

He took a deep breath- what could his wife be up to?

‘You sure there’s something inside, y/n?’ He teased, pushing aside the excessive amount of wrapping tissue paper you had placed inside. ‘I-‘

‘What? What is it?’ George asked, his eyes daring between his twin and you.

‘A pregnancy test?’ Fred’s brows creased, he looked up at you, whispering. ‘You want me to do a pregnancy test??’

You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at his remark. Gosh can this man be dim sometimes.

Everyone else thankfully had gotten the gist. Squeals and celebration overtook the room. In the corner of your eye you can see Harry looking lost, ‘Wait did I miss?’ and Ron, poor Ron, red in the face choking on his mince pie-looks like he took Fred’s comment literally.

‘Try again, love.’ You placed a hand on his thigh as you knelt.

His eyes scan the stick, this time taking it seriously.

‘Positive’

He drops the stick, whatever he was gonna say was cut off.

You giggled, knowing that Fred finally saw it.

The family rarely seen Fred speechless. It seemed to be a superpower of yours, the last time he was silent was when you walked down the aisle.

Fred quickly recovers ‘Are we????? Y/n, baby. Is this real??’ Scanning your eyes for the truth. ‘This is a prank isn’t it?’

‘No Love. It’s real, not a prank.’ You reassured him. ‘We’re going to be parents!’

–

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fandomscombine writes #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #weasley x reader #weasley twins

109 notes · View notes

definitelyseven · 4 years

Text

deal | nine

summary: when your step-mom unexpectedly offers you a deal you can’t resist, you decide to give her a taste of her own medicine by seducing her potential suitor, Im Jaebum.

You quickly grabbed your bag and ran downstairs. It was 8:45am and you had work at 9am. You’ve overslept.

“Running late?” Eunbi asked with a smirk.

“Where’s Jaebum?” you asked while putting on your heels.

“He left already. Please don’t tell me you’re expecting a ride from him everyday. He’s a very busy man you know,” she said with her arms crossed.

“You can’t give it a rest, can you? You’re bitchy every second of the day,” you commented as you walked past her and out the door. You quickly caught a taxi down the street, but even with no traffic you were going to be 30 minutes late.

“You’re late,” Anna spatted at you as soon as you walked into the office.

“Sorry,” you said trying to catch your breath and straighten out your clothes.

“Come on, there’s a meeting in 5 minutes. You need to get the conference room set up,” she said handing you a box of files to lay out on the table. You didn’t have time to change your heels this morning and running around to get to work made it worst but you sucked it up and did your job. Just as you were about to finish setting up, Jaebum walks in the meeting room. He completely ignores you and sits down at the table.

“Mr. Im, can I get you something to drink?” you asked professionally.

“Anna, will you please get me an iced americano?”

You let out a small sigh before moving on to the next person to take their order. You did nothing wrong and if he’s going to treat you like this so be it.

Another handsome looking man walked into the conference room - he looked familiar. He was the guy that taught at your gym. You’ve taken his classes before. He smiles at you before sitting down next to Jaebum.

The whole day was no different from the conference room. Jaebum did nothing but ignore you. Whenever he needed something, he would ask Anna to take care of it.

“Working late?” someone called from behind. You quickly turned around to see the same guy at the meeting. “I’m Jackson,” he smiled as he extended his hand to you.

“Y/N,” you replied, reaching out to shake it. You looked at your watch, it was already 10pm. You got stuck with all the bitch work towards the end of the day again, but the only thing different was that Jaebum wasn’t here to help you.

“I saw the lights still on and wanted to see who was working so hard,” he teased.

"I was just leaving,” you laughed as you picked up your purse.

“We’ve met before, you know?”

“I know,” you smiled. “You used to teach at the gym I went too.”

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Oh...that’s alright. Thank you though,” you politely declined before walking away.

The bus schedule showed the next bus was supposed to arrive in 10 minutes, but you’ve been waiting for 30 minutes already. As you were able to give up and call for a taxi, a black car pulls up next to the curb.

“Get in.” It was Jackson. “Get in, it’s late.”

You nodded and got in the car, “Thank you.” You buckled your seatbelt as he drove off. “My address is...”

“I know where you live,” he interrupted. You looked at him confused.

“How do you know?” Jackson doesn’t answer but only smiles at you. The question wanders in your mind during the whole ride home. He didn’t seem like some kind of stalker, but thirty minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of Jaebum’s house. “Thanks,” you said as you unbuckled your seat belt.

“Did you know we have security cameras inside the training rooms?” he randomly asked. You looked at him confused again. You paused, rethinking what he just said.

“Oh God...” you let out as you feel your heart drop down to your stomach. “Oh my god...” you repeated before running out of the car.

“Y/N...” Jackson calls after you. You sighed and turn back to confront him.

“Do you still have the footage?” you asked biting your lip.

“Don’t worry. I deleted it.”

You nodded. “Thanks,” you awkwardly said before walking away again. You didn’t get far before you turned back around. “I’m not his girlfriend,” you explained. “I’m kind of his step daughter,” you gulped, nervous to see to his reaction.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not judging,” he smiled while rubbing your arm.

“Eunbi married my dad and then he died and moved onto Jaebum. She doesn’t know about the gym thing and I’d like to keep it that way,” you hinted.

“Are you sure she doesn’t know?” he asked.

“What?”

“Everyone on that floor is one of Eunbi’s spies. Everyone secretly reports to her because she’ll be their boss’s new wife.”

“I didn’t know that but thank you for telling me,” you smiled.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” Jackson reassured.

“Thank you,” you sighed in relief. He was Jaebum’s friend, he wouldn’t tell his secret to everyone. You were sure of it. “I should go inside now.” Jackson nods, waving goodbye.

As soon as you walked in, you see Jaebum waiting by the stairs with his arms crossed. “You’re home late.”

“Yeah...work,” you replied softly before walking past him.

“Y/N,” he called. He’s been ignoring you all day and now he wants to talk.

“Yes Mr. Im,” you responded with a fake smile.

“Don’t be like this,” Jaebum said grabbing your arm.

“Be like what?”

“Petty and bratty.”

“No I was being professional. You were being petty,” you clarified. You were annoyed and pissed at him. He was the one who ignored you. He was the one who wasn’t acting professionally. Jaebum pins you against the wall in frustration. “What? Am I wrong?” you pointed out. Jaebum reaches under your dress and towards your panties. “What?” you scoffed. “Now you want to be with someone like me?” He looks at you confused. “Come on Jae. We both knew what you meant last night. A slut like me right?”

He stands there shocked at your words. There was no denying he implied it last night. He was overwhelmed at you questioning his marriage and his way of taking care of his son.

“Daddy!” you hear Minguk yell from outside. As quick as he pushed you against the wall, Jaebum lets go of you and walks towards the door while you straighten out your clothes. “Daddy!” Minguk screams again jumping into his arms.

Minguk’s interruption gave you the perfect opportunity to slip away upstairs. You weren’t proud of your actions - sleeping with someone’s man but this was different. At first you wanted Eunbi to suffer, to make her feel what you felt when she married your father; when she stole everything from you. But now, you wanted to show Jaebum that Eunbi wasn’t the woman she made herself out to be. She won’t be a good mother to him and you couldn’t let that sweet little boy get used like that. However, Jaebum didn’t seem to mind. He seemed convinced that Eunbi would take care of Minguk like her own, but you were the perfect example; even with money, she abandoned you.

“Meet me at the wine cellar,” Jaebum texted. You contemplated on whether to ignore him or meet him downstairs. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him or convince him otherwise, but you missed his touch. You made your way downstairs to the wine cellar. Jaebum was already there waiting for you with an open bottle of wine. “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I just wanted to clarify something,” you said walking towards him. “I’m not proud of what I’m doing but I’m no slut. I didn’t force you to sleep with me. You wanted it just as much as I did so don’t make this my fault.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No you’re not. You’re only sorry because I’m hurt by what you said,” you explained.

“I didn’t ask you to come down here to talk about this,” Jaebum said, sipping his wine.

“Right...” you nodded slowly. “You called me down here to fuck.”

“I...” he tried to explain.

“What she can’t satisfy you anymore? I wonder what’s going to happen when you get sick of me,” you snapped before walking away. Jaebum grabs your wrist and pins you against the wall again. You groaned at how rough he was being with you. “Are you going to keep doing that?”

“Are you going to keep talking back to me?” he whispered with his lips close to yours.

“What are you going to do about it?” you argued. He smirks, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist. He pushes his lower body up against yours. You let out a small moan once you feel his hard member poking at you.

“Not talking back anymore, huh?” he snickered.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you tell him as he slams his lips against yours. He was rough with you as if he was taking out all his anger on you. Jaebum’s hands roams up and down your body. Your core was already wet at the thought of him fucking you. His fingers quickly found your panties, pushing it to one side before slipping his digits in between your wet folds.

“Look at you, so wet for me already,” he whispered in your ear.

“Are you going to keep talking or are you going to fuck me?”

“Shh...what a filthy mouth you have,” Jaebum said giving your neck a light suck while rubbing your clit in circular motions.

“Jae!” the both of you hear Eunbi scream as her footsteps grew closer and closer.

“Fuck,” the both of you whispered. Jaebum drops you to your feet before walking away from you.

“What the hell are you guys both doing down here?” Eunbi asked, angry.

“Relax Mother. I’m here to grab a drink and then I’m leaving,” you said calmly. You grabbed the glass of wine on the table and walked away. You let out a sigh once you got back to your room - that was close.

You woke up earlier this morning, afraid that you’d be late to work again. You also didn’t know if Jaebum was going to give you a ride or if you’d have to take the bus.

“I can take you to work today,” Jaebum called from the living room as you put on your heels. “Have breakfast with us,” he calls again. Just as you were about to respond to him the door bell rings. You went to open the door and see Jackson smiling at you.

“Ready for work?” he asked.

“What?” you responded, a little taken back at what he said.

“I’m here to drive you to work so you don’t have to take the bus,” Jackson clarified. Jaebum comes up from behind you, staring at his best friend.

“What are you doing here?” Jaebum asked.

“I’m here to take Y/N to work so she doesn’t have to take the bus. Let’s go,” he urged.

“Actually I’m taking her today,” Jaebum said reaching out to grab your wrist. You stood there frozen and confused.

“Don’t be ridiculous Jae. Enjoy your breakfast with Minguk and I’ll take her,” Jackson smiled sweetly before reaching for you.

You didn’t expect Jackson to show up this morning nor did you expect them to fuss about driving you to work.

a little note from jennie: hello loves! sorry i didn’t post last week. i’ve been really busy at work and needed to take a break, but i’m back! hope you enjoy! :)

217 notes · View notes

strongsassysexysloane · 3 years

Text

Dreaming

. . . .

A/N: It's been a while. I'm so tired but I needed to read/write something new. To see Jack Sloane again. And my self indulgent brain came up with this.

Sum:- When dreaming becomes too real.

. . . .

The smile that was spread across your lips was completely wiped away when you opened your eyes. There was nothing wrong with the day, it was Saturday, the weekend, it was a good day but your dream was a hundred times better.

It was still only seconds after the fairytale dream you were just experiencing. The detail was so real that when you rolled your head on your pillow and opened your eyes, you were expecting her to be there. She was there moments ago, why wasn't she there now? Your mind had painted her perfectly beside you, in your bed, in the morning light, peacefully sleeping beside you.

Usually the dreams were more edgey and naughtier than a simple morning daydream but this wasn't simple at all. This was bliss. The heartfelt feeling of waking up beside the person you loved most in this world, moments before they woke to see you smiling back at them. Your brain decided to wake you up seconds after your love opened her eyes and then yours shot open. To the real world.

The world where they person you love doesn't know anything about your feelings. They barely know you look at them twice when they walk by or smile whenever they walk into the room. At least you thought they didn't. She walked into your space every morning and your whole world felt right. It was such an overwhelming feeling that sometimes you felt wrong for feeling it but then she smiled at you and that thought faded away.

You pushed the dream and feeling away as you stretched under your sheets. Today you were meeting her at the markets, your usual weekend catch up away from work and grocery shop. You'd buy fresh veg and fruit at the markets then grab a coffee and treat with her before going your seperate ways for the weekend. The thought of seeing her brought back that ache you woke up with. You couldn't keep this up much longer. One day you'd slip up, mention something that happened in your dreams because it felt so real and she'd run away, scared. She didn't scare easily but this would definitely make her turn and run.

Morning, I'm up.

With the morning text sent, you still had the dream still at the forefront of your mind, you got up and hopped in the shower. There was no point pushing it away, it would stick around like all of them do. There was a beep from your phone as you dried yourself with a towel.

On my way, J

You smiled at the initial. She always did it even though she was saved into your phone from day one. Your friend mentioned she never signed off like that with her messages but it was just a letter after all. It seemed silly to you that a simple letter in a text message could mean something more but your brain liked to hang onto that as well.

The minutes passed by like hours as you got ready and collected everything you needed. You checked your front window too many times just in case she rocked up before she messaged you. She always messaged just as she pulled up so you knew.

"You look cute today." She greeted you with a bright smile as you slipped into her Mini Cooper.

There was no hiding the blush that coloured your cheeks. "Thank you. You look beautiful like always." You laughed trying to play off the massive compliment you usually don't let slip.

"Why thank you, I'd like to say I put some effort in this morning but I overslept and had to hurry to get here on time." She explained, pulling away from the curb.

You frowned, there had never been a set time. It was whenever you had both woken up that whomever was ready first would text to see if the other was coming. "You don't have to rush, it's our weekend, there's no schedule."

She thought about her words for a beat. "Yeah but the earlier I get up, the earlier I get to see... The bestest vegetables the farmers have to offer." She forced her classic cheeky smile so you would hopefully ignore the pause in her words.

You couldn't ignore the pause in her words. There was no way you could but you skipped over it in conversation. You continued on about what you were after this weekend, plans of meals you were planning on cooking. There was relief in her posture, her shoulders rolled back and your brain noted this.

She had been dancing around her words lately, if you were really being honest with yourself. You tried not to get your hopes up too high with it but she was pausing in her sentences more around you. Picking and rearranging her words. Like she was going to go down one road at the fork but skipped to the other at the last second. Eleanor had pointed it out on more than one occasion, thankfully when Jack had left, but you pushed it away as nothing.

The morning stroll through the market was peaceful, hardly anything off topic apart from what was right in front of you. She stuck to the topic at hand which wasn't unusual but usually you'd be onto other topics by now. It was like she was staying in safe territory or you were overthinking this completely.

She brushed by you as you were picking up some fruits, her fingers brushed yours, the touch sending sparks up your arm. You watched her flinch, her eyes darting to yours before, "I'm sorry, there wasn't-"

"Jack, there's nothing to apologize for. You've grabbed my hand on several occasions, bumped me more than that, why are you sorry now?"

"You're right. Wasn't thinking." She forced a smile and you heart slightly dulled. She walked away far too quickly for you to gage her reaction. Something was definitely off with her today.

You walked around the market in mostly silence after that, only saying which stalls you wanted to pop into and then once the shopping was done you walked side by side up to the last coffee stand at the end of the market.

"Two large black coffee's with three sugars." She slipped her card to the barista before you could fight her to pay.

You took a deep breath and touched the tips of your pointer and index finger to her palm. This silence was killing you and you needed to get her attention. You were testing how to start the conversation by the way she reacted to your touch.

"Hey, what?" She spun around ready to fight whoever touched her and you held in a laugh. "Was that you?" She half glared with a curl to her lips.

You nodded, "You've been ignoring me since the incident in the fruit stand."

She rolled her eyes at the word incident. "Dramatic much."

"Says the woman who's been keeping at least a metre radius of me and hasn't said more than five words to me since. What's up Jack?" You were far too cheery at the end of that question, like it wouldn't change the dynamic of your relationship henceforth.

The barista called her name so you guessed she'd use that as a distraction. She handed you, your coffee before she added even more sugar to hers. You laughed the first time you saw her do this, asked why she didn't ask the barista to do it for her but she couldn't handle the baristas judgement. You didn't believe it but let it slide. It was probably that the barista refused to tarnish good coffee with the sugar content she needed.

"The way you looked at me this morning, the way you look at me almost every morning. It sets something on fire with in me." She slipped her coffee like a can of worms hadn't just been unleashed and started walking. You didn't a double take and skipped to catch up. "You called me beautiful like it was the most natural thing in the world when-"

"It is, you are." You whispered, hiding behind your coffee cup as she stared at you. You were half expecting a sass for cutting her off but she did this shy shale of her head with a smile you hadn't seen before. Was she shy?

"There you go again. These feelings I have, I've had for a while... I don't want to ruin our.." She stopped at the bonnet of her car, placing her bag of food on the hood and you did the same.

This was all happening so fast. This wasn't how you imagined it going, you really hadn't imagined it going at all. This never happened, you never got to this point in your daydreams.

"Friendship?" She said it so hesitantly it made you laugh and for that you got a shove. "Say something - other than I'm beautiful."

"I'm glad you agree." You jumped out of the way of the next shove and took a sip to hide your massive grin.

"Smart ass. I've said a lot of feelings right now. You're making me nervous."

You take a step forward, placing your empty cup beside your bag and take hers from her hand. Slowly, giving her time to step away, you take her hands and hold them between you. "I had a dream this morning." The smile you had from your dream comes back, the feeling of bliss, comfort and love. You couldn't believe you are going to say what you thought you never would. "I was lying in bed..."

"Very imaginative." She holds your hands tighter so you can't break your hold and playfully shove her.

You just laugh and shale your head. "Nah those dreams are off limits." You wink and she throws her head back with a loud laugh.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." She gives you the mischievous grin you love.

Oh how you wanted to know hers. "I'm about to if you'd let me finish." She scrunches her lips shut to make a point. "Much better. As I was saying. I was lying in bed, I opened my eyes to a new day. The sun was shining into my bedroom, I rolled my head to the side and I was filled with pure bliss and a grounding I'd never felt before. There was this beautiful, stunning woman to my right. She was still asleep, hair tossed from a good night sleep and a small smile on her lips." You think you see tears in her eyes or maybe they're in yours. "That woman is you Jack. I woke up and the world came crashing around me, that I don't have that reality but I still smiled knowing I get to see you today and almost everyday at work." You pause and now you know you're the one crying because her hand slips out of yours and it comes up to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"That's the most pure, heartfelt thing someone has ever said to me." She smiled, that smile you saw in your dream as her eyes fluttered open and saw you. Your heart skipped a beat. "I want that. All of it, with you." She learnt forward, hesitating a second before her lips met yours in the softest touch you'd ever felt. You weren't sure she was kissing you until the air in your lungs disappeared.

"Bit forward don't you think?" She was too confused, her brows furrowed as she pulled away. "To have you in my bed. Thought we'd have dinner first." You winked and her confusion disappeared and quickly became frustration. Something, you guessed, that would happen alot over the next week, months, years.

"Think your smart ass can handle lunch? I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet." She slipped her hand back into yours.

You smiled, leaning forward placing a more confident kiss to her lips before answering. "Think I can manage that." You beamed, getting another kiss in reply. This was going to be fun.

. . . .

#jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #jack sloane x reader

33 notes · View notes

toosicktoocare · 4 years

Text

No one asked for this, but I can’t watch that latest 911 episode and NOT write for it.

Spoilers for 911 Season 3 Episode 15 (AKA, the “we are going to fuck up Eddie, and you are going to cry” episode).

It’s been three days since Eddie almost died, and the water inhalation, the cold rain, and the newly-formed nightmares interrupting his sleep are beginning to take a toll on his body despite receiving a clean bill of health from the hospital he had been transported to.

He wakes on the fourth day gasping and choking after physically pulling himself from a nightmare where he was trapped underwater and couldn’t break through the mud that was pressing in toward him. He presses a shaking hand to his bare, heaving chest, small coughs wheezing past his lips, and it takes a solid four minutes until the rapid patter of his heartbeat slows to a steady rhythm.

He taps his phone screen, frowning at the far-too-early time. He still has three hours until he needs to wake up, but the mere thought of going back to sleep to those dreams sends a chill down his spine.

He slips out of bed instead, shuffling quietly to the living room, arms crossed as the cool air seemingly assaults his bare skin. He slumps down on the couch, pulling a blanket that’s folded on the back of the couch around his shoulders, and he snags the remote, muting the TV as it turns on.

He flips through a few channels, finally stopping on an infomercial for a new vacuum since of all the infomercials playing at 3 a.m., the vacuum seems the most interesting, but he only lasts seven minutes until his eyelids grow too heavy to stay open.

*****

Nodding off without his phone beside him was certainly not planned, and though he feels as if he’s only been asleep for minutes, it’s far too bright when he gives in to Christopher’s near-constant patting at his knee.

“I’m up, bud,” he mutters, yawning wide and loud. “What time is it?”

For a few seconds, Christoper is silent, and Eddie’s eyes slip shut once more until Christopher mutters “7:23.”

“Shit!” He flies off the couch, head reeling at the sudden movement, and he swallows back a few coughs as he starts toward his room, Christopher following slowly behind.

“You said a swear word. I’m gonna tell Buck.”

“I know,” Eddie says, frowning as he digs through his dresser for a clean shirt. “I’m sorry, but maybe we can keep this from Buck, huh?” He grabs a navy blue, long-sleeve shirt he doesn’t recognize and slips it over his head before he starts looking for pants. “Keep it our little secret?”

“Maybe,” Christopher says with a shrug, and Eddie can only hope that “maybe” means Christopher will forget by the time they make it out the door.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” He asks, whipping a quick gaze back toward Christopher. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

“We haven’t had breakfast,” Christopher reminds him, cocking his head slightly to the side, and Eddie sighs and turns away to cough a few times into his shoulder.

“Breakfast on the run today? We can get donuts.” He snags a pair of jeans and starts pulling them on as he stumbles to the bathroom.

“Donuts!”

Eddie pokes his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “Only if you hustle those muscles.” He nods toward Christoper’s room, and Christopher squeals through a laugh as he starts his way back to his own room.

Somehow, he and Christopher make it out the door six minutes later, and Eddie’s about to race toward the closest donut shop, only hesitating when Christopher reminds him of Buck.

“You said you were driving him to work today.”

“I did,” Eddie sighs, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose to try and squeeze away this growing headache, but then his phone chimes off and, of course, it’s Buck asking where he is, so he blinks a few times, rubbing at his eyes, before he slips his truck into drive and starts toward Buck’s.

*****

Despite making it in the typical ten minutes, he’s still fifteen minutes later than he usually is, and Buck’s frowning when he opens the passenger door.

“Took you long... Is that my shirt?”

“What?” Eddie glances down, frown curling at his lips as Buck hops into the truck, dropping his bag at his feet.

“That’s definitely my shirt.”

“Hi, Buck!”

Buck whips around to chat with Christopher, smile wide enough to blind, but all Eddie can focus on, for the moment, is the shirt. He tugs at it, confusion playing across his face.

“Anyway, Buck draws out, still smiling, as he turns back to the front. “You’re late.”

“I overslept,” Eddie grumbles as he puts his truck back into drive.

“First you steal my shirt, and now you’re stealing my excuses?” Buck asks, head tilting slightly to the left.

“And he said a swear word in front of me today!”

“You did what?” Buck shouts, playing up the over-dramatics, at the same time Eddie yells “Christopher!”

“He said s,h,i,t,” Christopher spells out, and Eddie grips the steering wheel a little harder when Buck gapes at him.

“No one is getting donuts if you both don’t stop ganging up on me,” Eddie spits out, and the loud screams that follow has him cracking a smile as he navigates to the nearest donut shop.

*****

“Are you okay?” Buck asks, voice considerably softer, when Eddie pulls into a parking spot at the station, and Eddie sighs for the umpteenth time that morning alone, shoulders sagging slightly.

He drags a tired gaze to meet Buck’s worried eyes. “Yeah,” he lies, cocking his head to the side, “why?”

“Oversleeping,” Buck starts, “cursing in front of Christopher, and, no offense, but your normally perfectly golden tan skin is looking a little washed out.” His lips curl into a half-smile when Eddie’s face falls flat.

“And your normally chiseled jawline is about to meet my fist,” Eddie spits out, opening his door and slipping from his truck.

Buck’s quick to follow, snagging his bag and hopping out of the truck quickly to catch up with Eddie, who’s already grabbed his bag from the backseat and walked away from the truck.

“Seriously, Eddie!” Buck calls out, jogging toward Eddie until they’re falling into step. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine--”

“--and you’ve been through a lot this week--”

Shaking his head, Eddie stops and spins toward Buck, ignoring the slight sway in his vision from the quick movement. “Buck,” he presses, tugging on Buck’s arm until Buck’s turning to face him, “I’m fine.”

Buck’s eyes narrow as if trying to physically read through the lines, and his face is still pinched in concern, but he eventually nods slowly. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

*****

While Eddie knew that he wasn’t actually as “fine” as he insisted he was, if his headache and occasional coughing was anything to go by, he didn’t expect his legs to give out in the locker room after returning from their third call.

He falls onto the bench with a low thud, eyes blurring, face burning despite his muscles trembling. His head is throbbing, a hammer knocking repeatedly at his temples, and his lungs are tight with a need to cough, something he’s been swallowing back more and more as they day’s progressed.

He’s not surprised when Buck walks in after him just seconds later, still calling out to Hen over his shoulder, but his words trickle off toward a softer, hesitant tone that’s laced with concern.

“Eddie?”

Eddie can’t seem to get himself to sit upright. The fatigue coating his bones has him hunched forward, elbows braced against his knees and face dropped into his cupped hands.

“Um, Eddie?” Buck repeats, padding quietly across the room until he’s standing over Eddie, frown painted across his lips. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt on that last call?

Eddie shakes his head slowly, the small movement alone bringing forth more pain to his head, and he keeps his face tucked against his palms.

Buck’s mind flicks through possible scenarios, pausing on one that has the blood draining from his face.

“Is it Christopher?”

“No, Eddie mutters. He desperately wants to curl up on the floor, press his hot cheek to the cold tile.

“Then, what’s wrong?” Buck asks, dropping to the bench beside Eddie. He reaches out toward Eddie, cupping his hand over the back of Eddie’s neck, but the second he feels the alarming heat, he jerks his hand back, slips off the bench, and drops to a crouch in front of Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie,” he starts, voice quick, as he tugs on Eddie’s wrists lightly. “Can you look at me?”

Eddie’s slow to oblige, his muscles moving as if fighting against the same, thick, wet mud he was trapped in. He lifts his head, and Buck sucks in a sharp gasp and presses the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Shit,” he mutters, standing upright, “you’re burning up.” He glances toward the door. “I’m getting Bobby,” and Eddie can’t find it in him to argue, not as Buck runs out of the room, and not even when Buck comes back with Bobby, Hen, and Chimney hot on his heels.

He can only cough harshly over and over into the crook of his arm when the others crowd around him, with Buck dropping back onto the bench beside him and Bobby crouching in front of him.

Bobby’s quick to smooth a palm over his forehead when his coughing finally tampers off, and he whistles low, concern coloring his eyes.

“That’s a hell of a fever you’re sporting, Eddie.”

Nodding, Eddie tilts to the right until his head’s dropping against Buck’s shoulder, and Buck’s quick to wrap a steady arm around his waist.

“I’m not surprised after the well,” Bobby adds. “You’ve gone through quite a bit this week.”

“You probably inhaled a lot of water,” Hen starts, frowning, arms crossed. “We should make sure this doesn’t develop into pneumonia.” She looks to Bobby, and the two share a silent conversation before he steps aside to let Hen assess Eddie. She counts his pulse, gauges his fever by touch alone.

“I think you should be okay with a week or so of rest.”

That clicks in Eddie’s head-- the first thing since everyone walked in. He shoots up to his feet, swaying, hand coming to his forehead. “A week?” he spits out, leaning a little too heavily against Buck when Buck stands up beside him and places a steady hand to the small of his back.

“That seems a bit excessive.”

“It’s really not,” Chimney says. “You should probably stay out longer, but we know how you are.”

“How I am?” Eddie parrots back, brows furrowed, and his frown deepens when Hen and Chimney both call him reckless with worried smiles.

“You know,” Chimney adds, “that whole hero act that’s got you in this situation in the first place.”

“I saved a kid,” Eddie fires back, chest suddenly burning as hot as his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Buck nods, “but you cut the line--”

“--you would have done the same!” The shout has Eddie doubling over into a coughing fit, and Bobby calls everyone to order as Buck eases Eddie back down onto the bench.

“That’s enough. Hen, go call in two support members who can come in for the next week.”

“Two?”

“Buck’s going to make sure this doesn’t turn into something worse,” Bobby says, eyes finding Buck’s, and Buck nods quickly, silent understanding.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Eddie mutters, and Buck leans more toward him, hand gentle at his back.

“Don’t fight this, Eddie. We’re all just worried about you.”

It takes a few minutes, but Eddie finally concedes, knowing he’s facing a losing battle, and feeling utterly drained after his small outburst. He waits as Buck gets instructions from Hen and Chimney: what signs to look for, how much liquids, how often he should get a reading on the fever.

And, Eddie’s hesitant to hand over his truck keys when Buck insists he’s not well enough to drive, but then fever chills start to slip up his spine, and Buck drapes his jacket over his shoulders. He gives in then, reluctantly dropping the keys into Buck’s outstretched palm, and trying to ignore the excited smile that briefly pulls at Buck’s lips.

He’s frustrated when he finds he can’t walk on his own to his truck, and Buck can feel the quiet tension and tries his best to pierce it with light comments that Eddie can’t focus on around the pounding in his head. The second he’s settled into the passenger seat, with Buck’s jacket tucked over him, he drops his head against the window and drifts off almost immediately.

*****

He comes to when, in his dream, he loses his last breath against dark, thick water, jolting awake with a strangled shout that falls away to a coughing fit. He clutches at his neck, coughing over and over, but then a glass of water is being pressed into his other hand, and he sucks it down, ignoring the voice beside him telling him to go easy.

The water helps. His coughing tampers off, and he blinks past tears pricking at his eyes to see that he’s in his bedroom, and it’s dark.

“What the hell,” he rasps out, eyes dragging across his room until they fall on Buck, who’s perched on the edge of the bed, normally bright blue eyes clouded with concern.

“Yeah,” Buck spits out, “what the hell-- how long have you been having nightmares?”

“I’m not,” Eddie tries, but Buck doesn’t back down.

“You woke up screaming.”

Eddie hands Buck the glass of water and sinks back against his pillows, one arm draping over his eyes. “Since then,” he sighs.

“When?”

“You know when.”

Face falling, Buck sets the glass of water on the bedside table and drops one hand to Eddie’s thigh.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I shouldn’t be having nightmares,” Eddie mutters around a few coughs. “I saved the kid.”

“You also almost died too.”

The words hit him in a weird way, like a bucket of ice water being slowly poured over him. “Thanks for reminding me,” he says flatly, and Buck sighs, thumb tracing mindless circles on Eddie’s thigh.

“You know what I mean. I think what happened to you warrants nightmares. You think I didn’t have my fair share of nightmares after my leg? After the tsunami? It’s normal to have them after a traumatic experience.”

“What are you,” Eddie mutters, lifting his arm and arching one brow, “a psychologist now?”

“Oh thank God,” Buck draws out, getting to his feet, “I thought I was going to have to keep up the act for the entire week.”

Eddie cracks a smile, a few small laughs slipping past his lips, but then his groggy mind catches up to his headache, and he groans, massaging his temples.

“Where’s my kid?”

“The living room,” Buck says, walking into Eddie’s bathroom to snag the medicine he bought earlier per Hen’s instructions. “Playing Mario Kart.”

Frowning, Eddie rolls his head to the side to see Buck. “Did you pick him up from school?”

“Yep. I told him you’re busy being a hero and fighting off a really bad monster right now, so we will have to be extra quiet for a while so you can focus.”

Eddie drags his gaze back to the ceiling, chest bursting with a warmth that’s different from the stifling heat of his fever. “Did you feed him?” he asks, smile creeping at his lips.

“Yep.”

“Something other than takeout pizza?”

“I cooked fettuccine,” Buck says, smiling, an air of pride surrounding him as he hands Eddie two pills and helps him sit back up. “And he told me I cook way better than you, which basically translates to ‘Buck, you are superior.’”

Eddie almost chokes on the water he sips at to swallow the medicine, and he coughs lightly around the glass, both brows arching.

“Oh, is that so?”

Buck nods, taking the glass back from Eddie. “Yeah, sorry, man. I don’t make the rules.” He helps Eddie back against the pillows and pulls his blanket back to his chin when Eddie starts shivering.

“You know I’ve got you, right?” he asks quietly, hand brushing against Eddie’s forehead, and Eddie smiles lazily, sleep pulling at him, beckoning to him.

“I know.”

#911 #9-1-1 #9-1-1 season 3 #9-1-1 spoilers #Buddie #Eddie Diaz #evan buckley #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #911 spoilers #my writing #my 911 writing #fox 911 #911 fox #9 1 1 #9 1 1 spoilers #eddie/buck

516 notes · View notes