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iamshay · 2 years

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Good morning

Today- 26/11/22

I woke up from a nap. and woke in a cold apartment. I turn off my heater cuz it was too hot. I wish I just

It freaking feels like we're already in the middle of winter it has not snowed that much either. My apartment quickly gets cold real quick

Oslo looks beautiful as always. Cold tho. But beautiful. I always struggle with early snow. I don't know if it's my apartment or just me. This house is made of wood real wood actually. It's mixed with bricks and shit but mostly wood. Norwegian houses some house is built from bricks mainly this one is mainly wood. Real actual woods. you can hear that wood sound as well when you walk on the stairs. It's very good quality. almost a cabinet house. My house is big hard get hot my fireplace is not that big but apparently according to my landlord that fireplace is real rock it should make the apartment heated up real quick. But since it's small I have to burn some wood for hours in order it heats up the whole living room and my setup room door open.

Atm, I am like this...

-oslo

This is storfjord, western Norway 2013 this summer house very beautiful summer house. that is wood mix with brick stone.

Yesterday -25/11/22

Yesterday was not a good day put in a bad mood, a fact I report some serious matter and I got ignored this is how I feel about it

and the fact this person has nothing better to do than join the same city as I have been on for a while. Fact city hopping from his main. Just because he has this obsession with creepy stalkerish behavior I doubt they look deep into the 3 parts that I have talked about. the fact that screenshot shows when he follows this streamer I support he join not for his own reason. I am recording shit from now on the fact he brings OOC shit and cuz I know he is harassing me and bothering me.

I will follow what the staff told me clip things. If he bothers me in any way they will take it from there. Because I have met and connected with a lot of people there. I just hope they will do something about it. I am activating my graphic card record from the start I can just share screen it on support i am recording all my RP-like vods so they see a bigger picture of the event. Plus they got heads-up on his behavior if ooc shit gets brought to the city

While waiting I went to empire nyc i got my prior again. I was there months ago I left because the city was in pretty bad shape before Duy took over. seem he has fixed a lot of issues. I meet a staff member and we clicked so we hang out and chill. show me around the city for a bit. I am a person that makes friends easily because of my personality. I got D10 AL city and skeleton rp waiting for V2 to come out And Empire NYC rp in. Listen rping is not the main content I don't do it for the wrong reasons I do have a good time and make connections with people and rp with them. I am a variety of content creators. So be in these cities and the same people I recently made a connection with play warzone. 2.0 as well that end up playing I was already not in good mood. When we hop on Warzone and I run into a toxic guy sadly allow him to get the best of me. So flip out on his fat ass. The fact he was on our team was the crazy part I don't tolerate sexist assholes.

My content is based on. mainly gaming, cooking maybe ones i find gear for Vblog Stream IRl me going around learning snowboard and take my community to the mountain hiking in norway. That stuff need to be plan ahead you cant just walk to mountain and call it day. This mountain in norway is tallest and you need take boat first. I need get GoPro camera too. and same with cooking i need 3 bundle pack camera that give professional look for me cooking. Me going hit the gym. There so much ideas i got for my stream. Its not just about rping. A lot people rp for the wrong reason.

meet girls to erp with them because they dont get that much action in real life. cringe i know.

2. in that guy's case just stalk and harras female

3. or just because some streamers are in the city they won't be around them and dick ride that person just to get views over their stream

Sorry for not streaming lately. I been dealing with a lot IRL

Fact i disconnect myself from most of my family members and now all sudden they reach out and want to hang out. And i had told my sister I got plans put it rejection nice way. All sudden now they want me to be part of my niece's concert but i was confused about what kinda concert i was not even part of their journey leading to this concert of what to dance or sing.

I only have contact with my brother. In put short context me and my brother grow up together main reason I got into video games. He i get along with I never get along with females because they are always drama queens who need to compete with me or are jealous of me getting attention from boys. I am a person that I get eyes on wherever I go. I don't seek attention I get it even if wear a freaking comfy outfit not all dolled up. It's my personality and they get attracted to I can't change who I am that is my personality. I am a bubbly person. I am a pretty nice person. I don't ignore anyone if they talk to me. But don't get twisted if get wronged I am pretty savage got that Persian spicy I will respond back with spicy words.

I got boundaries if someone crosses them that's when my horns come out. But if you are respectful and flirtish and innocent I am pretty chill. so simp all you want boo. I am single I am not obligated to any guy, but if a person steals my heart that's when I draw the line. I am his only!! and others should stay away from me. i am pretty loyal to my man. But atm i am talking to someone it's just flirtish back and forward. He is not a streamer or gaming. It's an Irl thing. It's not that serious he knows it we just getting to know each other. We both got a mutual understanding that we both talking and are allowed talk to others. We enjoy both each company so yeah.

I don't belong to anyone! I am a free woman. He is eye candy and I am eye candy. i got boundaries for how much I want to share online. I am a super private person. I only tell you how much I want.

I am not sure when i will be back on stream but i will rp offline atm. I have not yet healed.

The fact my lips so dry cuz of the season change in winter. I am pretty on that if look like shit i dont want show on stream that i got dry lips and its red area because it has gotten irritated its not bad. but in my eyes its. For some twitch stream they dont mind watch someone like xqc bite his toe nail with his teeth. i am female with class i don't weird shit or want look weird on stream . Some pick their nose and actually eat it while streaming.

I am not a nasty one. I could do off camera stream while rping. but until my poor lips are fully healed and dryness is gone i am good. I have seen another female have dry and redness streams anyways. Look matters.

I know this is super silly because I told my buddy. he said it's so silly it's so normal for people to get mouth ulcers cuz of a cold that just normal cuz of the season change. But I don't like it. I might just not have a webcam on and stream.

But anyways dear readers. There is so much in store for this blog. a lot of pictures will be posted. I just need to get a new battery for my camera. I need to head to IKEA manage to take a trip and plan it perfectly. Need to buy a bed and some drawer organizers and a drawer cabinet for my setup have it under my setup table I got one already. I need a bigger one. and for my makeup vanity. need two for that too.

I hope you all had amazing thanksgiving and spend it with your close ones.

I don't celebrate thanksgiving because I am every day thankful and grateful for what I have. I don't need a special day for that to be that.

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gazrgaley · 2 years

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manifestation of a monster (chapter 24)

Justin was aimlessly watching TV. There was a heaviness in the air, in his thoughts and body that he couldn't seem to shake. When Amy was around, he felt partly normal. When she wasn't there, he tried everything to avoid being alone with his thoughts. Stupid cartoons that used to be available at midnight performed a decent enough job.

With Milo being held up in his room for the past few days, he almost felt normal. But the effects of what Milo did became more and more apparent each day. If the apartment was quiet he could hear conversations in the apartments around him as if they were standing in the same room. Constant reminders of the life he would never have now.

When he went for his phone to call Amy, there was a knock on his door. Speak of the devil. How did she know he wanted to see her? But before he could say anything to tell her to come in, a voice on the other side spoke out.

"Pizza delivery!" He hadn't ordered any pizza. Nonetheless, he began to go towards the door. "Fire department! You have an appointment." The voice spoke again.

Justin came to a halt as his hand brushed the doorknob. How did this individual get into the building without a key?

"Landlord, please open the door. I know what you've been up to in there." Rapping quickly, the voice went on. "I'll book you for false arrest, and wrongful imprisonment, And murder!"

Justin flung the door open. Ready to fight whoever was on the opposite side. Expecting to see some kid with nothing better to do. Instead, he was greeted with a toothy grin. The blond guy from the bar. Justin's jaw hung wide as the man touched the tip of his nose with a finger. "I found you, you're it."

At a loss of words, Justin watched him for a moment. “How?” He looked up and down the corridor as if that would help. "How did you get in?"

“Roof.” The man pointed to the ceiling while bouncing back and forth on his heels. "The front door was locked. I knew you lived here but couldn't find a unit number on your banking statement."

Justin opened his mouth. But his remarks were drowned out when the door to his left crashed open. The old man next door took a step out of his apartment in nothing but a bathrobe, worn-out slippers and a shotgun. “Was that you?” Aiming the gun at the blond's head. “Were you just banging on my door?”

The blond shook his head, confused and shocked. “No. I came to see my dear buddy here."

The old guy gazed down the corridor before turning on the two again. "Did you see where they went?" Some child was just pounding on my door, reporting my dog had been found in the woods with rabies and prostitutes."

The blond shrugged and made a funny expression. "Weird, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

The old guy returned his gaze to them. Gun still extended but no longer pointing at their heads. "Perhaps, Mr Hatcher, you should simply go back in. I'll speak with the landlord on your behalf." Justin offered. He could only deal with one loonatic at a time. And at the moment, the old man would be the easier of the two.

He loosened his shooting arm. "OK, OK. But they'll be sorry if it happens again." The man cursed as he closed his door behind him.

Waiting for the old man's door to close he turned to the blond. "Dog with rabies and prostitutes?" For a split second, he wanted to ask what that meant. But nothing he said at his door made much sense either.

The blonde shrugged once again, the same stupid look on his face. "Prostitutes love dogs. At least Isabel does. I can't say I know many others. She will not let me anywhere near her girls." He laughed at himself, eyes still darting from one side to the other. "No idea why she has that rule."

Justin shuttered thinking of the last time he saw him at the bar and could fully understand not letting his Syco near anyone. But he didn't want to think of any of that. "So you've simply been knocking on people's doors and talking foolish crap all morning?"

"I told you I didn't know your unit number. What other option did I have?" Saying this as he shifted his weight, attempting to look behind Justin. "Are you going to welcome me in?"

"No," Justin stated bluntly as the blond reached for his pocket, plucking Justin's phone out.

As Justin reached for him, he swivelled about him, letting himself into the apartment. "I didn't need an invitation; I was simply being polite." With his gaze firmly fixed on Justin's phone, he began calling out for Milo as he walked threw the room as if he owned it.

"Who is Amy?" The man asked, glancing through his phone. "She's kind of cute. Is she single?"

"Give me that!" Justin leapt at the guy, but he easily dodged him once more.

"You must have a password for this. I mean, anyone can get into your phone and do all kinds of bad stuff." The guy dodged Justin once again, this time with a wink as he slipped past him.

"I do. I just have it turned off while I'm at home." He flung himself at the man this time. This time there was contact, for a spit second. The next think Justin knew his back hurt and he was laying on the sofa.

“Grendel!” Milo's words echoed around the room as he stood at the doorway. Holding one side for support. "Give him his phone back."

The blond extended his hand as his eyes locked with Milo's. As Justin reached for it Grendel let it fall to the ground.

"Hay, you're not dead. Hazza!” Grendel's smile began to fade, as though he realised there were leftovers only to discover they had gone bad. "At least not yet. You look dreadful, where have you been?" he said, his frown growing as he watched him.

"That is a question," Milo answered. Milo still appeared to be sick, but there was something different about him. Somehow, in a way that Justin couldn't pinpoint he seemed more at ease. "How long have you been awake," Milo asked, taking a few steps toward Grendel.

Grendel stammered, "Wait, I do remember this one," and began counting on his fingers. "21, no 20. What's the year?" he turned to Justin, who was too preoccupied with his phone to notice Grendel was talking to him. "Oh, wait, 2016... I think."

"ok, that's good to know. But that wasn't what I asked." Milo said. An uncharacteristic look played on his face. One that Justin had never seen before. "When was the last time you slept?" He watched him as if something terrible would happen if he lost sight of him for just a moment.

"Did you change my password?" Justin said, uninterested in what the two were discussing. Shaking his phone in the direction of Grendel.

"Gofuckyourself," Grendel murmured, his head tilted, with a dull expression. As he resisted an explosion, Justin felt a sudden flash of wrath swell inside him. Grendel's fake-ass smile began to develop at that moment, and he wanted to hit him. "All one word, all lowercase," Justin quickly realised he was talking about the password, but it didn't affect his desire to punch the man.

"A few months ago. The abandoned warehouse? Is it your handy work? " Milo murmured, disregarding the fight between the two.

"Which warehouse?" He feigned innocence, shrugging his shoulders and looking around the room. Milo was always watching him. Justin wasn't sure what he was searching for, but he was certain the man was lying.

When told, "The one that had an unexpected explosion a few months back," Grendel shrugged." It was the one that murdered numerous individuals a mile away. "

"How many?"

Justin misunderstood Grendel's question with a look of concern for a split second.

But when Milo responded with a count of 75 he quickly realized that wasn't the case.

Oh, that's sad," he added, showing even less remorse in his falsehood this time. "Boredom, I suppose."

Justin felt his blood begin to boil. It was bad enough that Milo was a killer. But it was only what he needed to live. Milo had once explained to him that he had only been feeding as much as he was because of whatever illness had sercame him. But now this one was just killing people for fun. He got nothing out of it.

The sensation of wetness on Justin's hand was very faint. Looking down, he saw blood trickling between his fingers. Nails dug into flesh as he clinched his fist so tightly. Years of pent-up anger burst forth in the form of a torrential outburst.

Unable to stop himself Justin felt himself swing at Grendel only to hit the air where he once stood. Milo had Grendel by the shoulder, now standing on the other side of the room. “We need to talk in private.”

It was unclear if Milo was speaking directly to Justin or to Grendel. But after he took Grendel to the bedroom and locked the door behind, it was clear. Justin found himself alone and confused about what was going on.

#warm blooded vampire series #gothic horror #vampires #watpadd #vampire writing #gaz042

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losingherface · 3 years

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I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr

#the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #i love lesbians

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

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i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

408 notes · View notes

dat-town · 3 years

Text

wish you were here

Characters: Mark Lee & you

Setting: wish dragon au (and a bit of aladdin because mark even has a tiger in their garden like jasmine did. don’t ask why, just blame the regular mv), childhood best friends to lovers (at least there’s potential?)

Genre: fluff and humour

Warnings: mentions of a sick animal and a wild animal kept as a pet in a huge garden (just like jasmine’s tiger, it’s very tamed)

Summary: A magical teapot, a dragon that wants everyone to be happy and an old friendship being revived. Oh yeah, have I told you that you have 3 wishes?

Words: 6.4k

For @restlessmaknae 💕

When your mother told you you got delivery to your childhood home, you certainly did not expect this: a brown box as big as a small watermelon with your old Canadian address and MARK LEE scrabbled next to your name as another recipient but no sender. Not to mention, the first stamp on the thing was dating back to the early 2010s. Where the hell was this package for 10 years? And what would you and your old neighbour slash best friend have gotten together?

Okay, first things first:

You and this clumsy, kind of cute kid, Mark had been quite tight while growing up. You were born in the same year, only a month apart, and his family lived in the house next to yours in the suburbs of Vancouver, so it was kind of natural. You two might have been against the world kind of comrades, playing hide and seek when you were six and wondering about whether time travelling was possible through black holes at twelve. But no matter how close you used to be, you fell out of touch when Mark's family moved to the other end of the world, back to Korea, their roots when you were fourteen. You slowly forgot about him, and started university in the city, moving away from home, so nothing really reminded you of him ⎼ and your stupid, big fat crush on him that you had no courage to tell him about in middle school ⎼, nothing until this box.

You put the delivered package on your kitchen table while you make some dinner for yourself out of what you have gotten during grocery shopping earlier just before you picked up the mysterious stuff at the post office. You eye it suspiciously over your pasta, really not wrapping your mind about what it could be but instead of annoying yourself with this pointless curiosity, you put your fork down and stand up to open it. It’s a struggle at first, the box being secured with multiple adhesive tapes over the years but when you finally get rid of all that and can look inside of it, an intense feeling rushes through you… immerse disappointment.

“A teapot? For real? What were we thinking?” you furrow your brows taking the small, green and pretty old teapot into your hands. It looks like a piece of a traditional Asian set with its jade colour and dragon pattern. It couldn’t have been in a much better shape 10 years ago either seeing how wayworn it is but still, you expected something more… exciting? Something funny that might or might not give you an excuse to look up Mark Lee on the internet and message him for the sake of old times. But how lame it would be to befriend him on Facebook only to tell him that you got delivered a teapot under both your names. Hah, you would rather not embarrass yourself like that.

You shoot one last glance at the teapot before leaving it on your counter and going back to your food, you successfully forget about the whole ordeal. You carry your life on with only one small difference: Mark Lee back on your mind after long, long years.

It was just a small crush, you tell yourself, sighing as you look into the mirror, absentmindedly wondering how he’s doing. Does he think of you sometimes as well? Did he go to music college like he has always wanted? Is he happy? You wish he was even if he’s half a world away and with that thought you think it’s time to go to sleep despite the upcoming weekend days. You don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule over some boy but as soon as you pull the blanket over your chest and close your eyes, something explodes in your kitchen.

You jump out of bed faster than lightning, in slight panic over the fact that your neighbours will hate you for bothering them late at night and your landlord would kill you if you managed to blow up your microwave. But the sight that welcomes you is like no other that you imagined. The whole room is covered in thick pink glittery smoke. Like your worst Barbie nightmare.

“What the⎼” you cough, waving your hands to clear the air and once it dissolves into nothingness with its weirdly cotton candy smell, there’s a boy in the middle of it all, sitting cross legged on your kitchen counter so casually as if he owned the place. His pink-ish purple hair hangs into his eyes and he seems to find your coffee machine strangely interesting. You grab the first thing you can ⎼ a blender ⎼ and hold it up in defensive before yelling at the boy: “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

The stranger’s mouth pulls up in a charming smile, his eyes sparkle as he turns his attention to you, hopping off the counter. He’s all thin and long limbs, so you hate how you hate to look up at him as he walks towards you before bowing ceremoniously.

“Hello, sorry for the sudden appearance, I just couldn’t wait any longer! I’ve been stuck in that teapot waaay too long. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. My name is Taeyong, I’m a wish dragon and you’re my new owner,” he smiles and what he says makes absolutely no sense.

“A wish dragon?” you mumble in shock, looking around to see if this is just another prank of Johnny. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him jump out from under one of the cupboards. Or maybe you just fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Yeah, that seems like a realistic scenario.

“Ah, yes! I know I don’t look like it but modern times require modern solutions. Most people freak out because of my dragon form, so human it is,” the boy who seems only a few years older than you grins as he’s chatting and you have to give it to him, he takes this role pretty seriously. “You have three wishes as my owner. You can ask for anything as long as it’s not about death or love.”

So you got yourself someone who thinks he’s basically a genie? Oh gosh, is he that drunk?

“Aha, very funny. I’m too tired for this prank, so I would appreciate it if you left the same way you came...” you point towards your window because there’s no way he came through the door. Putting down your blender because the guy looks pretty harmless despite his crazy blabbering, you move to go back to your bedroom.

“No, no, no, I can’t do that,” the boy, Taeyong as he introduced himself, appears in front of you within a second and grabs your shoulder as if he could shake some sense into you. He looks pretty desperate. “I can only get a new owner if I fulfill all wishes of yours. It was super stuffy in that box the last decade, you know.”

At that excuse you let out a laugh.

“You don’t even fit it the⎼”

“You were saying?” Taeyong is suddenly nowhere near ahead of you but instead a small creature, supposedly a dragon, in the size of your palm flies in front of your eye level. “It’s magic!”

Okay, now that sight makes you feel like it’s you who is drunk. Or worse.

“Am I dead?” you have to ask in a small, uncertain voice, trying to think back what could have happened. Maybe that explosion literally blew your apartment up? But it hurts when you pinch your arm and turning back into his human form, Taeyong wants to prove the very same thing. Not the hurting but the not dead part, obviously.

“No, you’re very much alive and a happy owner of a wish dragon. Not permanently, of course, but still,” he tells you as he drags you onto your couch in the living room. As if sitting down could help processing all this.

So you have a wish dragon in your home, a magical creature that can casually switch between its dragon and human form and he says you should wish for three things, so he could leave and you could go back to your old, boring life without magic and things that scare you to death at 11PM.

“Can I ask… why? Why me? I’m not really owner-material,” you whisper because heck yeah, you even managed to kill your cactus before. Taeyong purses his lips as he sits down, a hand at his chin.

“Well, it’s unusual indeed to have a peasant girl, no offence, as my owner but as far as I know, you and your friend asked for a sign that magic was real.”

Oh, you remember that, being so obsessed with shooting stars and other stuff like that, you two used Mark’s brother’s computer to browse the internet, trying to find evidence about all that. You were kids wanting to believe in a world beyond the one you knew. But...

“That was like 10 years ago,” you furrow your eyebrows, not getting the timing.

“Well, sorry, you weren’t put on the top of the Heaven wish list and the shipping from Shanghai to Vancouver isn’t the fastest either,” Taeyong shrugs as if it was supposed to be natural. As if that was the most unbelievable thing. Well, delivery services are sometimes a pain in the ass, that’s true but getting a wish delivered by Heaven was something you would have never thought of and it all drains down on you. Strangest realisation of your life.

“So… it’s all real,” you whisper ahead of yourself: magic, dragons and all that. You could basically see your old best friend’s I told you so smile and let out a soft chuckle. “I wish Mark could meet with you, too.”

At that the guy ahead of you claps his hands and rubs them together, creating the same purple smoke from before. You look at him alarmed.

“Your wish, my command,” Taeyong grins and lifts his hands and before you could make a sound of protest because gosh, you didn’t mean it literally, you feel the ground move under your feet and you’re falling, into the darkness but despite shutting your eyes automatically, fearing the impact of the crash, nothing comes. Only the smell of soy sauce in the air and warm sunshine on your skin… Wait, what?

Your eyelids fly open and you notice in shock that you’re not in your flat anymore, ready to sleep. Instead, you stand in the middle of a goddamn street somewhere in Korea based on the signs still in your PJ shorts and tee. Oh my gosh! You hide in an alley right away and yank the seemingly proud Taeyong with you.

“I didn’t tell you that I meant right now! I can’t meet Mark in my PJs and I need my phone and wallet to function anyways. Not to mention, I don’t speak Korean at all...” you ramble panicking, the realisation that you’re indeed on the other side of the Earth due to some magic is yet to register. But the awkwardness from the stares you have just gotten has already turned you bashful.

Listening to you, the wish dragon seems sheepish and slightly embarrassed as he scratched his nape, his colourful hair falling into his cast down eyes.

“Oh… sorry. I got so excited over the wish that I didn’t think about it! It’s been a while since I did teleport magic but hey, I still have it in me. Anyways, sorry. Phone and wallet, you said? Here you go,” he pulls out something from his pants which magically seems to be indeed your belongings. That definitely makes things earlier.

“Uhm, thanks. Where are we exactly?”

“Ah, well you mentioned your friend Mark Lee, so we’re here. Well, one bell away because I did remember that it’s rude to intrude other’s houses without permission first,” oh now, you know, you snicker internally and gulp because hell, even if you wanted to see Mark, you wouldn’t have thought that the meeting would come so soon. You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself mentally.

“So… you’re telling me that this… is where Mark lives?” you point at the impressive apartment complex on the corner of the street but Taeyong shakes his head.

“Nope, This is where your Mark lives,” he says and before you could object about the ‘your’ part, the dragon points at the other side of the road at a luxurious house with a huge garden, basically a palace. Seeing the beautiful fountain, the modern and yet traditional Korean style building beyond the fences makes your jaw drop.

“Hahaha, alright for a magic dragon you must have made a mistake. There’s no way the Mark Lee I know lives here,” you look back at Taeyong finding it funny that the kid who used to wore his favourite tees until his mother basically threw them out would live at such a place.

“Mark Lee, korean name Minhyung, supposed to be 22 years old internationally soon. Bad eyesight, contagious laugh, clumsy but has surprisingly good reflexes, gets embarrassed easily. Sound familiar?” Taeyong crooks a brow at you as he reads the information off from a parchment he just took out of his pants. Everything he listed is just so Mark that you’re left in disbelief.

“Uuh… that sounds about right.”

“His father hit it big in 2016 with a tech company, their net worth has too many zeros to count,” Taeyong explains, seeing how surprised you were over the fact that he lived a lavish life like this. Not that he doesn’t deserve it! Mark is such a sweetheart, so of course, you would only want the best for him but as if half the world wasn’t enough, now you have another huge gap between you.

“Gosh, I really can’t believe this. How am I supposed to just ring the bell and say hello after so much time?” you sighed with your head in your hands. “Argh, I need to buy some clothes and change.”

Taeyong approves the idea based on how enthusiastically he hollers, you wonder why nobody on the street seems to pay no attention to him. Maybe only you see him, just more reason for you to be crazy.

“Good idea because we’re having dinner with Mark!”

“What?” you look up in shock, not following through. Taeyong grins down at you, flashing a giddy smile and with a twirl he’s changed from his baggy, casual clothes to something more chic but still laidback.

“Your wish was him meeting me, so I arranged everything. I can't meet him without you and the teapot there, you know,” he explains as if it was supposed to be obvious. You aren't ready yet though.

“You just want to eat all the fancy delicious food he has,” you squint at him suspiciously and the dragon stays silent, so you must be right. He laughs nervously.

“Maybe, but can you blame me? I haven’t had a feast since a literal decade!” he hollers and somehow you really cannot find it in yourself to be angry at him. You are in Seoul for god's sake after all and magic is real, you can put up with the inconvenience of buying clothes and making yourself look decent before dumping all this surprise on Mark.

An hour later you stand in front of the gates of the Lee mansion and nervously you wipe your sweating hands into your dress. You can totally do this, you just say hi to an old friend, it's not like you're afraid he wouldn't remember you, hah, of course not–

"Y/N!"

You whip your head at the call of your name to the source of that all too familiar voice. Sure it's deeper than you remember but there's no mistake in whose it is. Plus, who else would call your name in South Korea of all places.

"Mark, hey!" you wave the boy who just got out of one of the fanciest cars you've ever seen in your life. And yet, despite the Prada suit and expensive shoes, styled hair and Swiss watch on wrist, Mark Lee still has that goofy little smile and the doe eyes that used to make you weak in the knees. Hah, who are you kidding? They still do.

"Oh my god, dude, you… you got pretty," Mark jogs up to you and having no filter like always he blabbers immediately only to stutter as his ears turn red. It was so him talking before thinking, so you didn’t really mean to dwell on his words. Although you felt your cheeks dusted with pink soon enough. "I mean, it's really good to see you! I was so surprised to see your name in my calendar for today's dinner! You should have told me you were coming to Korea, I would have picked you up at the airport."

His calendar? Ah, of course, he must have been busy and all that. You wouldn’t have been surprised to see an assistant run after him at this point, so you wonder how your wish dragon magically put you onto his list of important people to meet. Gosh, it was so weird.

"Ah, I have a funny story about that…" you chuckled to yourself but before you could have get out anything, even a please, can we go to a more private place? Mark’s eyes zero on the guy next to you and his eyes grow comically wide.

"And uhm, who is your friend?" he points at Taeyong who waves him in exchange with a kilowatt smile. He looks back at you with his mouth agapé. "Oh my god, you came to invite me to your wedding?"

He says oh my god way too many times for an eloquent rich kid, he really is the Mark Lee you knew.

"No, never! I mean, of course, I would invite you but Taeyong and I– I literally met him on my way here," you explain hastily cursing yourself for the silly lie. You came to tell him the news not to try to make it believable.

“I heard there’s food,” the wish dragon pipes in very helpful and you shoot him a disapproving glance he doesn’t notice. Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, yeah, of course, dinner! Come on in, let’s get you two settled,” he grins albeit a bit awkwardly as he leads you through the gate after opening it with his card.

On the way through the very, very, very big garden, he’s chattering about how he misses the Vancouver weather, especially on humid, hot days like this and talks about how he thinks the fountain in their yard is a bit too much but his mom loved it and then before you know it, you sit by a huge dining table with fine food in front of you. Suddenly you can’t decide whether you're grateful for Taeyong’s shameless presence – he digs into the jjigae right away – because at least the situation isn’t awkward because of your silence or you’re annoyed by it because you must seem like a weirdo because of him. That’s why you decide to rip off the bandage and tell Mark as soon as the last maid has disappeared too.

“Okay, so actually I came here because I have a surprise,” you speak up, probably too serious because the boy almost chokes on his food due to how fast he turns his head towards you.

“More surprise?” he coughs out and you offer him a glass of water which he takes with a smile.

“You literally won’t believe this one!” you assure him and wait until he gulps down the drink. Only then you point to Taeyong and tell him that your childhood wish has come true.

Mark almost falls off his chair this time.

Not after you tell him that though. He laughs at that with that wheezing laugh of his as if you told the joke of the century then pats you on the shoulder murmuring That was a good one, bro and turning back to his food. But then you look at the magic dragon pointedly and Taeyong puts down his chopsticks with an exaggerated sign. Then he flexes his magic: turning into his dragon form among additional sparkles and Mark suddenly looks like he’s about to faint. He reaches out to tap on your shoulder while not taking his eyes off the wish dragon.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers and honestly, you totally get his reaction while Taeyong mumbles something about ‘people these days not believing in dragons’ as he shows off all the things he could do: gift riches, make one stronger than they are, giving skills of whatever one wants. He starts rambling about how this one Chinese emperor became wealthy thanks to this, how that one actor in martial arts and all this before changing back to his human form and he continues eating his pasta like nothing ever happened.

“I can do this all day,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just perform the coolest magic tricks.

“This… this is the best thing ever!” Mark exclaims with those sparkles in his eyes you missed so much. He was always so excited about new things and it automatically makes you smile how he bombards Taeyong with million questions like: ‘So you are the wish dragon that grants wishes?’ or asking him about his scales, his unique color, how it feels to live in such a small teapot, how old he is and the dragon glows under all the attention. Can’t blame him but Mark has always been so curious about the world, it’s endearing.

“So your first wish was to meet me?” he turns to you after long minutes of interrogating Taeyong and suddenly, under the spotlight you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can feel yourself blushing because you didn’t necessarily mean to wish for that but it’s not like you’re regretting it, it’s just… you don’t want him to misunderstand.

“I thought you should meet him, too, after all the package was delivered for the two of us,” you look down, trying to sound nonchalant while picking your food, avoiding Mark’s gaze. No matter how open armed he welcomed you, you still aren’t convinced that it’s okay to be here because the more time you spend with him, the more you would like to stay a part of his life. “It’s just… I wasn’t really sure we could ever meet again. We didn’t keep contact after you left.”

With dropped shoulders, you try not to sound too downhearted because of what happened because you know all too well, it wasn’t his fault, it was a family decision and look at him, it did good for him! He seems happy, they live in a practically mansion but most importantly, he didn’t seem to change with the wealth. He might wear expensive clothes but under it all he’s still the boy with the most loveable smile.

“I… I was thinking about you a lot, I just thought you forgot about me,” Mark admits with a sheepish smile, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. He really still is the same and it’s playing silly little games with your heart. If this was a cheesy Disney movie, a slow bgm would start to play as you look into each other but your moment is broken when Taeyong accidentally kicks into his chair as he stands up. At first he looks alarmed but then giggles.

“I will just… go. Don’t mind me,” he disappears like smoke with a wink, leaving you two alone at which Mark lets out a woah. You chuckle at his cute reaction, heart doing somersaults in your chest.

You thought it would be awkward, just the two of you alone after long years but Mark has this thing that he makes people feel comfortable around him, so it’s actually quite nice. You catch up on everything and anything that comes to your mind: old neighbours, studies, friends, what are you doing now and what would you like to do, too.

After finishing the delicious dinner, Mark offers a home tour which you would never refuse and you jaw drops at the huge crystal chandelier in their living room as well as their swimming pool but your favourite place in the whole mansion is Mark’s room because it’s just so him. You can’t describe it well but the moment you step inside, it feels like home. It’s cozy to the point it makes you want to cuddle a pillow. It has colours of pastels, a synthesizer here, a guitar there, posters of singers framed on his wall and vinyl records hanging down. His window has a view of sunset and Namsan above their green garden and although you haven’t been in Seoul before, you’re pretty sure it’s your favourite place in the whole damn city, too.

“Wait, there’s someone I would like you to meet,” Mark suddenly exclaims while you’re looking through his pictures and he pulls you out of his room, out of the house, into the garden: You giggle all the way as he’s being so secretive about it but then your steps halt unexpectedly and the hand you have in Mark’s yanks him back.

“Mark… why is there a tiger in your garden in the middle of Seoul?” you ask as quietly and as immobile as you can. You don’t want to attract the sleeping animal’s attention to yourself. But to your biggest surprise, the boy just laughs, his thumb caressing your skin soothingly.

“She’s Jasmine and she won’t hurt you,” he reassures you but needless to say, you’re not too calm and you’re pulled close to the wild animal that lifts its huge head towards you lazily. “She was abandoned by her mother as a cub and she was outcast in the zoo because she’s a bit sick, so she has always been weaker than her siblings. Dad made a donation and we have raised her since she was young.”

You hiss when Mark reaches out without fear but the tiger basically purrs as he strokes down his fur at the neck. You watch in awe as this big wild animal becomes a soft cat under the hands of Mark Lee. When the boy encourages you to pat her too, you hesitate but he promises you that it’s gonna be alright and you take a leap of faith.

“What’s her sickness?” you wonder aloud as your fingers get lost in the soft fur of the tiger. You hope she’s not in a lot of pain.

“It’s an immune system thing, not sure what exactly but she wouldn’t have survived this long in the wild,” the boy tells you and his mouth curls up in a smile when Jasmine licks your hand. It seems like you’re tiger-approved. You look into its warm brown eyes and your heart churns at the thought of her condition.

Mark tells you stories of Jasmine, about that one time she crashed his birthday cake or how much she likes to swim with him in their pool during summer and gosh, you could listen to him go on and on forever. You’re only reminded of the reality, that all this is just a possible one-time thing, a weekend getaway with magic when Taeyong shows up in swimwear, ready to crash in said pool.

“I guess he might have been bored in that teapot,” Mark laughs, not minding at all. He even offers you to join but you have a better idea.

“Taeyong, I have my second wish!” you call out for the wish dragon who’s suddenly much more excited about that than the water. He’s beside you in a moment, beaming and curious. You glance at Mark with a soft smile before looking at your personal genie confidently.

“I wish Jasmine would be healthy,” you whisper, playing with the tiger’s furry ears which she seems to enjoy. You were a little bit afraid the dragon would say it’s not possible, that he can’t cure sickness but to your relief, he just grins.

“Your wish, my command,” he nods and puts a hand over the animal. Nothing but a smoke of purple signals the magic being done but you believe in it and so does Mark by the looks of it. He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it gently.

“Thank you,” he smiles and you smile back. He used to be your best friend after all, it’s the least you can do for him.

Mark convinces you to stay the weekend and there’s no way you could tell no to him, not when he clears his schedule just for you. He never complains about how busy he must be working for his father’s business while being a music major at a local university. All he ever talks about is the places he wishes to show you and he takes you around Seoul as if he was your certificated tour guide. It’s lovely how enthusiastic he is about it while what really matters to you is the time you spend together. He makes sure you two take a million photos to remember by, Taeyong posing on half of them since he joins you on your little trips and sometimes it’s just the two of you watching the wish dragon being genuinely in awe by modern technology, 10 years is a long time after all.

On the last day before you have to go back to Vancouver (thanks to Taeyong’s kind offer to take you the same way you came back since he misunderstood you, you don’t have to sit through a 10+ hours flight and you have more time), Mark not only tries to make you breakfast despite having an in-house chef (his eggs are ugly as heck but you appreciate his efforts and can’t help but coo at his dreamy smile under that grey hoodie when you tell him it tastes yummy) but he also introduces you to his friends in Korea. Of course, they tease you (mostly Mark) about where he has been hiding you but it’s all chill and fun you’re not quite ready to say goodbye. But you should go because the more you stay, the more you don’t want to leave. You’re lucky enough for this chance to reunite with Mark but all good things end eventually.

“Let’s not disappear from each other’s life again, okay?” the boy grins at you as you’re ready to go, Taeyong already working on his magic.

“Yeah, let’s not,” you agree easily, looking forward to your video chatting and constant texting even if it’s from the two opposite ends of the Earth with a terrible time zone difference.

You glance at the wish dragon who’s drumming with his fingers while pursing his lips as if he was waiting for something and you let out a huff before working up the courage to actually do something about these feelings inside of you. You might have regretted not confessing in middle school, you have spent years wondering about the what ifs, so you don’t want to make the same mistake twice but still, you want to give Mark a chance to ignore it all if he wants to. So you step forward and wrap your hands around him as you hug him close. It’s obvious that your action takes him aback, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands and his body tenses under you but it all melts as you say those words that have been threatening to fall from your lips all this time:

“I have missed you.” you confess, honest and based on the hitch in his breathing, Mark must be surprised. You can’t blame him though, you just wanted him to know. You step back with a weary smile, his big Bambi eyes on you but before he could say anything you nod at Taeyong and you feel yourself falling, purple fog pulling you in. A few moments later you’re back in Vancouver, in your apartment, without him.

The first few days pass in a blurr, you can still barely believe what just happened. Your weekend with Mark feels like a too good dream but Mark kept his side of promise and texted you almost immediately as you left. He sends you selfies, songs that remind him of you and you talk about your days like you never did before. Still, it feels like you’re dancing around certain topics which are basically the elephant in the room and maybe that’s why Taeyong tries to cheer you up in his own way. Though, he soon realizes that you not being happy isn’t the problem, you are happy, you just… miss Mark more than you ever did.

“Enough of moping, you still have a wish left!” Taeyong exclaims, throwing himself onto your bed. “Come on, close your eyes, imagine what you want the most in the world and make a wish!" he singsongs. However, before you could even just indulge him, your phone pings with a new notification.

fullsun00 tagged you in their post!

You click on it right away, wondering what Mark’s friend Donghyuck is doing online at 1AM. The uploaded post turns out to be a photo of you and Mark when you all hang out near Han river. You were too busy at the time laughing at how the boy almost lost his whole scoop of ice cream before he could have had a single bite to notice his smile while looking at you. Based on his caption Donghyuck apparently wasn’t.

fullsun00: just old friends, they say. friends my ass @buttercupyn @onyourm__ark

You click your tongue wondering what Mark thinks of the callout but you press like on the post anyways. You put your phone aside before you could see how his other friends join the teasing in the comment section.

“Actually, I do have my third wish,” you speak up as you turn to Taeyong before he could make a remark on your tinted cheeks.

You’ve been thinking a lot about it during the past days. You could wish for anything but you’re at a point of your life where no riches or fame would make you happier because you’re happy enough just the way it is. It might not be perfect but you don’t want to be selfish and you want to make decisions you won’t regret: like catching up with Mark, curing his tiger and bringing happiness into the life of somebody who only ever served other people in his life.

“Ooh, what is it?” Taeyong claps, giddy as if he was waiting for this to happen. He probably did.

“I wish you would go on a vacation and enjoy life,” you tell him but unlike his usual reaction, this time the dragon’s smile fades and he blinks at you, confused.

“You could ask for anything in the world and that’s what you want? Are you sure?” he furrows his brows, not quite believing your words but you just smile, knowingly.

“Yes, Taeyong, I’m sure.”

“Your wish, my command,” he bows with his hands put together and with a twirl suddenly he’s in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, looking as ready for a holiday as one can be. You chuckle and tell him to just go, you’ll be fine.

You’re fine, you really are. Life goes on, you study and work, you laugh with your friends, you video call with Mark regularly and his friends are regulars on your social media, too. It’s just sometimes the feeling of missing something hits you harder than other days. Especially when you’re looking through the pictures you have from your Seoul weekend.

“I wish you were here,” you whisper ahead of you at one particularly good photo of Mark and the sunset, smiling at you behind the camera. You miss his smile, the cute wrinkles around his eyes when he crunches his nose, the sound of his laughter, his hand on your wrist… you miss him.

Ding-dong.

You stand up startled at the sound of your flat’s bell, running to the door to open it even though you have no idea who it could be so early on a Saturday morning. Not having a better idea, you expect it to be either a neighbour of your landlord but on the other side of your doorstep stands a boy who you thought was a continent away. He’s dressed semi-casually this time, his shirt tucked in his jeans, hair lightly falling onto his forehead and a nervous smile on his thin lips.

“Mark! But I⎼ I don’t even have more wishes,” you blink, taken aback, looking around to look for Taeyong in case he came back. But your behaviour just manages to confuse Mark instead.

“What?”

“I just wished you were here,” you blurt out without thinking, your words only processing later in your brain and it’s then when heat creeps onto your cheeks. Mark tries to but can’t really hide his growing smile at that.

“Really? I’m glad then. I just took my new private plane on a test drive,” he says bashfully, a silly excuse for real.

“All the way to Vancouver?” you tease, watching Mark fumble with the hem of his shirt. Your heart beats overtime just because of the fact that he’s there.

“Well, what can I say? I did miss the weather here,” he plays along with a shrug but he’s more serious when he looks deep into your eye and adds: “And you left without letting me answer.”

Oh yes, you did. You were kind of afraid of his reaction but seeing how he was ready to travel across the world just to see you, maybe there’s no reason for you to be so afraid. It feels like deja vu but a reversed one in a way as Mark gently pulls you into a hug, his lips grazing your hair with a whisper that makes your heart skip a beat: “I have missed you too.”

You really wouldn’t wish for anything more.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #stories

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luulapants · 3 years

Text

Stories We Tell

When I was eight years old, my parents split up, and my dad, as divorced dads are wont to do, got a shitty apartment in a weird neighborhood.

The building was two stories with sixteen units. There was an in-ground pool out back, unheated in the shade, so the temperature hovered just above arctic. Half the time, instead of swimming, you ended up fishing a dead squirrel out and changing your mind. The laundry room in the basement flooded every time it rained. The appliances were junk, constantly breaking. The doors and locks, too. The landlord never fixed anything.

I didn’t give much thought to the neighbors until I was fourteen, when my dad got full custody. Someone broke into our ground floor apartment around the same time (and by “broke in,” I mean waltzed through a door with a broken lock) so we moved to the second floor, where it was a little safer. Our new balcony looked out over the rodent graveyard pool.

Over the next few years, I developed a colorful picture of our neighbors:

Across the hall was Doris, a madam and a raging alcoholic. She was in her fifties or sixties, but there were always astoundingly attractive young women coming and going from her apartment. She threw parties where she was the oldest woman by about three decades.

On quieter nights, Doris would sit on her balcony and get wine-drunk. If my friends and I were walking past, she would lean over the railing and shout super appropriate things at us like, “Izzat yer boyfriend, honey? R’you two using protection?!”

One time, my dad did some legal work for Doris. She paid him with two cases of wine.

(My dad doesn’t drink wine, but somehow, it was still gone by the end of the summer. I dunno, Dad, it’s a mystery to me. Couldn’t tell ya.)

Next to Doris was a big old dude that used to stand on his balcony in whitey tighties and watch me and the other kids while we waited for the bus. I never learned much about him, except he was creepy with a capital “Eeeugh.”

Across the hall from Captain Underpants were the Five to Eight Guys. So called because there were at least five of them living in that two-bedroom apartment, but no more than eight. They all looked vaguely the same: twenty-something stoners with a lot of tattoos and piercings and a fashion sense that hovered somewhere between Hot Topic and PacSun, while somehow managing to be worse than either.

I don’t think all of them were drug dealers. But at least some of them were. Absolutely. People would go into the apartment and re-emerge thirty minutes later in a veritable cloud of smoke. Our coat closet shared a wall with them, and my coats always reeked of pot. I mostly started smoking because people assumed anyway.

The summer after my Freshman year, they hung blankets up around their balcony to create an extra room. I told my dad, “That’s smart – there’s so many of them living in there, so they made an extra bedroom.”

My dad looked up at the tell-tale red glow of a grow lamp peeking out through the cracks of the blankets and told me, “Kiddo, I don’t think it’s a bedroom.”

Below the Five to Eight Guys were two elderly nuns.

Yes, really.

They never had a mean word for anyone: not the madam, not the drug dealers, not the creepy old man standing outside in his briefs. That wasn’t to say they had a kind word for them. Their go-to was smiling and minding their own fucking business.

I liked to think of them as our building security. Because, sure, we had no real security to speak of. The doors were always propped open, and I don’t think there was a functional smoke alarm in the entire building.

But surely God wasn’t going to let anything too bad happen to a building with nuns living in it, right?

Next door to the nuns was the strangest of the whole lot: Crazy Cat Man. He was Russian, in his seventies, and had lived in the building since before the landlord added the ‘no pets’ rule to the lease. And I’m pretty sure Crazy Cat Man was reasons A through Z for that rule.

I never got a real count on the cats, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of ten. But ten cats wasn’t enough to sate Crazy Cat Man’s love for animals. Oh, no.

One winter, he decided to feed the geese, and hangry geese laid siege to the building for weeks.

Another time, I heard the landlord’s voice downstairs. He was screaming, “What the fuck is the matter with you!”

And Crazy Cat Man was yelling back, “I no let squirrel in the apartment! I never!”

He had. He had spent weeks feeding the squirrels, getting friendly with them. Then he started cracking the patio door to lure them inside.

Crazy Cat Man was married. His wife had albinism and was photo-sensitive, so I only ever saw her outside once.

See, once a year, Crazy Cat man delivered phone books. It was his only job. He spent the rest of the year trying to fix his van up so it would run well enough to deliver the phone books. He was constantly working on it. Every part he put in, the van attacked and destroyed like a body rejecting a donor organ.

One day, he hadn’t pulled the van quite far enough into his garage, so when he lowered the garage door, it hit the back bumper and got stuck. That day, I learned that his wife’s absolute favorite thing in the world was watching her husband be incompetent, because she came out of the apartment for once. He couldn’t get the door back up, so he had to try to crawl under it to get inside the garage, and she was standing there shouting, “My husband is an idiot! My husband is an idiot!”

My dad and I stopped to watch this seventy year old man crawl under a mechanically compromised garage door. My dad said to her, “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be a dead idiot.”

The albino wife turned to him and hissed, “I should be so lucky.”

My senior year of high school, the recession hit, and my dad’s law practice went under, and my older brother died of a brain aneurysm. A week after I graduated, my dad told me we were going to be evicted, and I’d have to find somewhere else to stay until I went to college.

We moved everything out of the apartment, so nothing would be trashed when they evicted us. My dad ran off to the mountains to contemplate suicide (as one does), and, for about a month, I had this big, empty apartment to myself. My friends and I threw parties, got drunk. Hot boxed the bathroom.

And I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room, because it felt too weird to sleep in my old room with none of my things in it.

Late one of those nights, alone in my empty apartment, I heard screaming outside. I went on the balcony. All the neighbors were coming outside to see what the noise was.

On the property behind ours, across from the squirrel-killing pool, there was a huge cottonwood tree, maybe fifty feet tall. On the end of this long branch near the top, there was a raccoon. Closer to the trunk were two more. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a raccoon scream, but it’s almost human sounding.

One of the two at the trunk rushed at the third, and forced it farther to the end of the branch. Then the two raccoons started bouncing the branch. The one at the end screamed.

I think we all realized what was happening at the same time, because I heard someone downstairs say, “What the fuck,” at the same time I thought it.

It took a long time. Pushing the raccoon back, then bouncing the branch, then pushing it back again. By the end, the one raccoon was hanging from the end of the branch, which was pointing straight down. It was screaming continuously.

When it finally fell, you could hear the thud.

I heard the same person say, “What the fuck,” and I had no idea who it was.

If found out years later that the rumor in the complex about my dad was that he’d been a lawyer for the mob, and he got on someone’s shit list, and that’s how he ended up so broke. And it’s why he had to disappear so suddenly.

The truth was, my dad was a good lawyer, but a terrible businessman. His clients were mostly small businesses and everyday people. When they didn’t pay him, he assumed it was because they didn’t have the money, and he didn’t want to rub it in by asking.

When I heard that theory, it occurred to me that I had created characters out of our neighbors with no real regard for what was true or logical, only what was interesting. I think that night with the raccoons was the closest I ever got to any of them, as real people. Standing in the dark, faceless, watching something horrible that we had no control over.

I’m not sure what the rumors about me were, but here’s the truth: by all logic, I should have been a pretty miserable kid. My dad had untreated depression, and sometimes he stayed in bed for days. When there was no food in the fridge, I assumed it was because we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t want to rub it in by asking. I went to friends’ houses to eat. That guy that broke into our apartment when I was fourteen? He had a brain tumor, and he thought I was his girlfriend. And I should have been scared shitless that a forty-something year old man had tried to get in bed with me before my dad woke up and beat the bajezus out of him in front of me.

But instead, I started making these stories about the weirdos we lived with. I loved them. I was obsessed with them. I talked about them all the time.

“Say, Julia, how are things at home?”

“Well, you’ll never guess what the Five to Eight Guys were up to yesterday, let me tell you!”

I saw Crazy Cat Man two years ago. He’s still delivering phone books, and he looks nothing like I remember him.

#original writing #personal #I wrote this for an oral storytelling event a couple years ago and it makes me sad that it's just sitting in my docs so here you go lol #coping mechanisms #storytelling #cw death #cw drugs #cw alcohol #cw uhhh raccoon murder??#murder of raccoons by raccoons #i guess that's a tag now

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 18: SAFE HOUSE

—

A/N: I hope you guys like this one ! I just wanted to add a little bit of fluff after all that angst-fest. Happy reading my loves! :)

———

"Enigma." I mumbled, the strange woozy feeling in my chest expanding as I shifted in my car seat to turn to Pietro.

"What?"

"I figured it out. I'm your enigma. Everyone has one." There was a lightness to my words as I said them and oddly enough, I didn't really mind. "You said you couldn't figure me out, therefore I'm your enigma."

I could see his hands on the wheel tighten just a little bit. The whole car ride, I'd been observing him. I just couldn't get his words out of my head.

You're driving me crazy, Y/N.

My head felt like it was about to explode by the sheer amount of force it took for me to figure out what he really meant. I felt...perplexed. I was wracking my entire brain out by trying to decipher the whole point of our previous conversation. Why did I drive him crazy? Why did he feel the need to tell me that?

Why did I feel like I should trust him?

"My enigma?" He scoffed, throwing a playful, cocky look my way. "You are nothing close to anything I'd call mine."

I rolled my eyes, "You know, it's no wonder you've got a head full of grey hair, you grouch."

"Hey!" He gasped, genuinely shocked at my comment. "I am most definitely not a grouch."

His accent made his reaction much better than I could've imagined. The way he rolled his R's made me laugh a little, so I copied it just for kicks, the letter teetering on the edge of my tongue. "Yep, a grouch would most definitely say that."

I scanned his face for any signs of annoyance, waiting to see if my words left any impression on him. Instead, I saw his expression grow heavier. I'd miss it if I blinked, but I swore I saw a flash of that same expression he wore when he confronted me before in my cell. Seriously, I have got to figure him out, and soon. Before I'm too vulnerable.

"We're here."

I turned around, looking out of the window to see the building I'd been dreading to return to. My heart felt like it had been dipped in acid and encased in lead. Suddenly, I knew why Pietro grew quiet.

Getting out of the facility had been fun, exhilarating almost. Steve had helped me escape just as he promised and left me with Pietro in the garage, handing him the car keys and giving him strict instructions to drive away while remaining incognito.

Pietro had a dazed look on his face then, part-confusion and part-anxiety, but I knew that we had one thing in similar; roguery in our veins. Pietro is a little troublemaker, I had mused as I eyed his way-too-giddy movements. He had no trouble following his Captain's orders, he was eager almost.

I told Steve that we could hide in an old safe house of mine, a tiny studio located somewhere in a sketchy town that was close to the facility so it was reachable by car, but far enough so that it wouldn't be a problem if any of his teammates were to come looking. At least we'd have enough time to escape if they did.

The last time I'd been here had been 2 years ago. Back when I thought I was still running from The Winter Soldier. Everything the Captain had revealed to me made me want to throw up. How else were you supposed to feel when someone told you that you'd been running and hiding for years, from a ghost? I felt like I'd been on an unprompted wild goose chase, except that instead of chasing the 'goose', I'd been chased by it. What a joke.

"You alright?"

Pietro raised an eyebrow, nothing but that disgusting kindness in his eyes. I wanted to strangle him right then and there. Was he offering me pity?

I threw him a half-hearted scowl, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm just asking. This can't be easy for you, no?"

His words hit me like a truck, and the realisation that he wasn't offering me pity, but simply just inquiring, soon came after. It was an odd question to be asked. I'd rarely been offered that luxury, of someone caring enough to ask if you were alright or not. It felt weird to be on the receiving end of that kind of sincerity, something I thought only existed out of my own realm. Yet here I was, trying to figure out the answer to his question.

I shook my head in an effort clear my thoughts, sort of like an etch-a-sketch. "I've been through worse."

We entered the building quietly, ignoring the looks thrown our way from a few bystanders. It was a rather rundown building, just as I had remembered it to be. I'd never made company with any of the people who live here, because how could I have? What kind of shit assassin would do that?

"They must not be used to new faces, huh?" Pietro tried—and failed—to ignore the man eyeing us from our right, clearly uncomfortable with the unwanted staring.

"I'd assume not. It's a pretty small town."

Pietro cleared his throat, "I see."

He looked a little uneasy, shifting from foot to foot. I followed his line of gaze and oh my god, the man was still staring.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I snarled. He scurried away immediately, eyes averting from us either in shock or in fear. Though it was most likely the latter, considering the way he kept looking back with wild eyes to see if we would chase him down.

I turned back to my speedster companion, and sure enough, he looked much better than he did before. "It's fine, he's just a creep."

He nodded, "I was never fond of creeps."

We climbed up the flight of stairs that lead to the studio apartment, silent the whole way up with Pietro taking in his surroundings and with me being a bit preoccupied with the thoughts swimming in my head. Memories from my past kicked in violently, and I tried to swallow them down.

"Is this it?" He said as I stopped in front of a tattered door with the number 42 on top of it, pointing to it with his right hand.

"Yep." I walked closer to the door, reaching up to the number 4 and trying to detach it from the wall. Apparently though, it was too high for me, sitting just at the tip of my fingers. Either someone had moved it higher, or I'd grown shorter since

Heels. I'd worn my goddamn heels when I last set this thing up. I'd have slapped myself by now if my hands weren't occupied.

Annoyed, I groaned and stood on the tip of my toes. Just a bit more.

"Here."

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his voice reverberating through his chest which was now level to my head. Pietro came up behind me with his taller stature, his height enabling him to reach for the 4 in less than a second, his hand brushing against mine in the process. I blinked, hard, trying to steady myself and grab hold of my thoughts. I felt my face grow hot, warmth spreading through my skin like fire.

I tried not to make it obvious, how much his skin contact had bothered me. I felt stupid for making such a big deal out of it, and even more so that it was caused by him. What the hell? My throat felt tight, so I cleared it with a cough and put on a neutral expression seamlessly.

He backed away as soon as he grabbed hold of the number, twirling it around his fingers with a playful, lopsided smile. Holy shit, I want to rip it off his face. Just punch the living shit out of him.

"Hmm, maybe you're not that useless after all." I scoffed.

He grinned, "Well, if the grouch hadn't been here, it would've taken you all day to reach for this thing."

"Huh, so you admit you are a grouch."

"I didn't—Whatever you say, gnome."

"Wow, look at you." I snickered. "Practicing sarcasm are we? Pray, do tell, was I your inspiration?"

He shook his head in defeat, then he flipped the 4 over, eyebrows meeting in the middle. "What is this anyway? Some sort of secret hidden in here?"

Classic topic changer.

"Yes," I snatched the sign from him. "A very important secret actually."

I turned the thing around and pressed hard on the back of the long vertical line with my nails, breaking the plastic cover. It gave in with a little bit of pressure, and I dug my fingers in to pull out the slender, metal object that I had hidden 2 years ago.

"Ah. The key." Pietro looked impressed.

"Smart, isn't it? It's an old trick that I stole from a woman in Amsterdam."

He moved closer, and I felt myself flinching a little, afraid my body would have the same reaction that it did just a few seconds ago. Luckily, he didn't notice how distressed I was.

"Why bother though, if you weren't going to keep the key with you? Why not just kick down the door or climb in through a window or something?"

There he goes again, with his perpetual rambling.

"We're 4 floors up idiot, climbing in through the window is too risky, people might see and I might fall and die, which is not very ideal, in case you haven't figured that out yet." I inserted the key into the lock and twisted it, hearing the clack of the latch and bolts as they moved.

"Plus, I just did it for fun. I never even knew if I'd come back here or if this building would even still be intact by the time that I did."

He didn't take up the trouble to reply, or even if he did, I didn't hear him. The moment the door opened and I stepped foot inside the room, I was immersed in the haze of my past. A version of my life that was drastically different to the one I had now.

My emotions were all over the place.

A cloud of dust covered the room from years of vacancy, our shoes creating imprints onto the floor. I was surprised no one had broken in for the whole 2 years. Somewhere in the back of my head though, the memory of me threatening the landlord popped up.

"If I come back and I find out that my house got fucked up, I won't hesitate to drive this knife through your chest."

It's a wonder how far a knife and few sharp words could get you.

"Looks like it needs a bit of vacuuming, just a bit. But that's just my opinion."

I fumbled around for something hard and chucked it at Pietro's head with full force, earning an 'Ow!' immediately after.

"What was that for?"

"I've been meaning to throw something at you for a while now." I shrugged, then continued to explore my previous home even further.

It was exactly as I left it, minus the accumulated bits of dirt and the herd of dust bunnies. I walked to the small kitchen space, opening the cabinets and finding the slightly dented kettle and the 2 mugs I had kept there, untouched. Then I fished around the drawer beneath it and eventually found the box of—hopefully unexpired—tea packets and some Sweet'N Low's.

My fingers clasped around the faucet knob and turned, waiting for a good minute for running water. "Come on, come on..."

After some violent sputtering and grumbling from the sink, out came the water flow. Yes! I cheered mentally.

Then I turned to the silver-haired grouch, gesturing to the tea packets I held between my fingers. "Care for some tea?"

He shrugged, "Only if you won't poison me."

taglist: @ifilwtmfc

#run pietro x reader #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff #i want this slow burn to end already oh my god #marvel #marvel female reader insert #slow burn enemies to lovers #mcu imagines #avengers age of ultron #marvel reader insert

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procrastinatorimagines · 3 years

Text

I Want Us Part 8

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm // @inlovewith3 //

The call came while you were still driving to the address you’d been given on Tate, now your prime suspect - Billy’s alibi for the first murder checked out easily, he was at a track meet with over a dozen witnesses, and there wasn’t exactly any point in checking his alibi for the New York murders, he’d been 7.

Almost as soon as that call ended, you got a text on your phone. “You mind?” You nodded to your phone, giving Carisi permission to check it as you drove.

“It’s Jay, he says neither families have seen Billy or Tate before,” he relayed, “but that doesn’t mean Tate isn’t our guy, it’d make sense with what we’ve heard so far.”

“Still,” you sighed, turning Tate’s road, his apartment building just up a head, “we’re going to need something more to go on if we’re even going to get into his place, let alone arrest and charge him.”

Carisi couldn’t agree more as you both climbed out the car, making your way towards the building with your badges on hand. They’d get you through the main doors no problem, but getting further...

“Do you have a warrant?” What had you expected, honestly? Standing before the landlord in the main lobby you were greeting with the question you’d seen coming a mile away.

“Is he here?” Carisi asked anyway, hoping you’d at least find out something useful, even if this turned out to mostly be wasted trip.

“Nah, he hasn’t been back here since yesterday, I’ve got some mail waiting that I need him to take off of my hands,” the landlord explained, sounding bored and impatient with the conversation already. He’d given you something, at least; Tate hadn’t gone home after he’d given his statement to you, he must have somewhere else to lay low - but where?

“You ever seen either of these women before?” Carisi tried, holding up photos of the two Chicago victims on his phone. The landlord shrugged and shook his head.

“Okay, thanks for your time,” you told him, pulling your card out of your pocket, “but if he does come back, at least give us a call?” He grunted in what you couldn’t tell was agreement or not, but he took the card and walked away, which presumably meant you could both see yourselves out.

You grumbled in frustration as soon as you were outside, knowing you’d been this close to your killer and let him slip away, and now you didn’t know where he was. “We’ll post some unis outside in an unmarked car,” Carisi told you, already making the call as you wandered once again back to your car, fresh out of leads to follow.

“Let’s call Benson, see where Tate lived the time of the New York murders, maybe it’ll be enough for a judge to issue a warrant,” you said, casting a glance back at the apartment building.

“Food?” Carisi suggested once you got to the car. It had been a while, you realised, all this running around you’d been doing hadn’t really left any time for breaks - food was definitely not a bad idea.

“I could eat,” you replied with a smile, dialing Benson’s number as you got back behind the wheel.

“Tell me you have more than we do,” she answered by way of greeting, sounding as frustrated by this case as you.

You explained the situation as concisely as possible. “Do you think you could find out his old address?”

“Yeah, should only take a moment, stay on the line?” You hummed in agreement and put it on speaker as you heard her place her phone down and begin to type on her keyboard.

“New York,” Benson confirmed after a moment, “want to try for a warrant?”

“That’s circumstantial at best, I can’t see a judge signing off on that,” Carisi noted, not being happy about saying it though. He was right, but neither of you liked it.

You clicked your tongue, hesitating before saying: “I could ask Voight to maybe-”

“No,” Benson cut in quickly, “we do this by the book, if this is our guy, which I think it is, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardise putting him away for good, understood?”

“Loud and clear Captain,” you promised genuinely.

“Good, Kat and I will look into Tate’s history in New York, maybe we’ll find something we missed now that we know who we’re looking for, we’ll keep you posted,” she informed you both.

“Thanks Cap, we’ll be in touch,” Carisi signed off and you leaned your head back on the seat’s headrest, eyes closed. You only opened them again when you felt Carisi’s hand on your leg.

“Come on, let’s go eat, re-energise and re-focus,” he said, somehow always managing to make you feel instantly better. You nodded and turned on the ignition, knowing exactly where you could grab a quick bite nearby.

You were half way through your sandwich, feeling a bit more self-conscious than usually about how you were eating in the presence of a guy you liked - not that he’d care - when you got yet another phonecall.

“Hey Kev,” you said, pressing answer with your little finger and hurriedly swallowing what was in your mouth.

“Hey, Voight asked us to go back through the CCTV from Lily Hamilton’s murder, we’d been looking for the bentley the first time around, but this time we were looking for Tate’s car, just incase.”

“And?” You asked, alert, putting your sandwich down and brushing your hands together as you shared a hopeful look with Carisi.

“We got it,” Kev answered. Was this is? The breakthrough you needed? "Now, the main street cams don’t catch enough, but Vanessa found a private security system set up nearby the cite where her body was discovered. I’ll send you the screen grabs, you tell me how guilty you think this looks.”

Two pings on your phone came a second later, images of a man emerging from Tate’s car carrying a very large bag - definitely large enough for a body. “We got him,” you said triumphantly.

“It gets better,” another voice joined the call from the other end, Hailey’s. “We did some digging into that date the second vic’s sister mentioned and get this, both girls had dates, I’m sending you both the dating profiles and messages we found now-”

Carisi got them up on his phone, showing you briefly and nodding.

“-and it’s pretty damning. They look like different guys at first, but the script is the same, prince charming, true love, you get the picture when you read the messages, anyway, it looks like both girls went to meet up with their mysterious date the nights they went missing.”

“Can we track the IP, see where the messages came from?” You asked, already turning on the ignition yet again, ready to catch this guy once and for all.

“They came from the same location,” she confirmed.

“Tate’s apartment?” Carisi asked hopefully.

“No, a storage facility basically between both the current crime scenes,” she explained, “it’s not under Tate’s name but we called the owner, the man who rents the facitily matches the description, right down to the scar.”

Another ping on your phones had Carisi showing you the address of the storage facility. “I assume that’s enough for warrants now?” You asked.

“You’ll have everything you need by the time you arrive,” you heard Voight confirm from somewhere else in the room, “I want you and Carisi at the storage facility, Burgess, Dawson and Ruzek will meet you there with Benson and Tamin, the rest of us will head to the apartment.”

“Let’s finish this,” Carisi told you after Voight hung up. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice.

#sonny carisi #svu #law and order svu #chicago pd #one chicago #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #svu imagine #law and order svu imagine #chicago pd imagine #one chicago imagine #sonny carisi imagines #svu imagines #law and order svu imagines #chicago pd imagines #i want us

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ssscentral · 3 years

Text

Mine

Summary: Is it a dream? A nightmare? Just a figment of my imagination. Or is it something more?

WIP - Masterlist - Members

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader || Established Relationship

Genre : Horror, Demon!AU

Warnings : Character death, brief gore at the end, it be scary

WC : 2.6k

Member : Kas || @voiceswithoutlips

A/N : This is the fourth and last installation in the “Hell of a Ride” series. All four parts have the same prompt, but the authors have interpreted it in their own way. This is a horror fic, like it’s scary, there’s no fluff or smut. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for being awesome betas and for all your feedback <3 And a special thanks to @eternalseokjin for helping out <3 I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Sunday

I wished Namjoon and I could go on a long vacation somewhere. I barely saw him since he had started working at night. He seemed so distracted these days - his company had just landed a big project, so he had to work overtime. Yesterday I came home from work and he was just leaving for his office. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then he was gone. That’s all the action I’ve gotten since the Halloween fiasco, to say that we went wild would be an understatement.

We had attended a friend’s Halloween party. I had dressed as a slutty demon and Namjoon had gone as a priest. My red dress had been so short, it barely covered anything. Halfway through the party Namjoon had finally snapped and dragged me back to our apartment. Needless to say, the sex was incredible. He had quite gotten into his role and incoherently grunted in Latin as things got heated. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but I was too far gone to care.

That was a month ago. Unfortunately, after that I’d barely seen my boyfriend in the house, or anywhere else for that matter.

Monday

I could barely sleep last night. I went to bed after a lonely dinner. I’ll admit to being a little tipsy after all that wine but in my defense, I missed my boyfriend. As soon as the lights turned off, I heard this scratching noise coming from the walls. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but the thought of rats running around in my apartment brought goosebumps on my skin. Our building was really old and the landlord never really did any TLC, one of the reasons we got this apartment cheap. What if there were raccoons in there? I shivered at the thought.

After about two hours of that unholy noise, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I got up, turned on the lights and armed myself with a broom. I lightly tapped the broom on the wall, maybe the noise would scare them into leaving. After a few more taps the scratching stopped, thank Lord for that. I didn’t want to go sleep in the living room or call our shady landlord.

I glanced at the clock when I went back to bed. It was almost six in the morning. How the hell did that happen? I remember waking up at midnight. Did I fall asleep? Somehow I’d lost a few hours. I bet it was the exhaustion and stress taking over my wine addled brain.

Tuesday

We had this really romantic dinner planned at our favorite restaurant. Namjoon said he’d pick me up from work and I was so excited for it, but he called at the last minute to cancel. His boss had called him in early to work on some presentation. It is safe to say I was extremely upset, and rightly so. I’d barely seen my boyfriend for a month, even texting him was getting annoying. I’d ask him something and by the time he replied I’d already be fast asleep. One dinner, was that too much to ask for?

I couldn’t help but feel disgruntled at how things turned out. Even though I knew Namjoon missed me just as much as I missed him, I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. It was illogical and petty, and the moment the thought crossed my mind I felt guilty. He worked so hard and here I was bitching about him.

Dinner was a sad affair, I was too upset to cook anything, so I ordered some chicken and drowned my sorrows in beer. I was about to fall asleep when I heard a light knocking on the door. I thought maybe Namjoon was back early, my sleep addled brain didn’t wonder why he’d knock when he knew the door code. I opened the door with excitement, only to be disappointed at the empty space in front of me. There was no one at the door. Either someone played a prank on me at this unholy hour or I missed my boyfriend so much that I imagined the knock, either way, it was disheartening.

I went back to bed in hopes of a quiet night. I hadn’t slept properly for two days. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. Sleep deprivation coupled with being a kindergarten teacher who had to run around all day after toddlers was taking its toll on my body.

Another knock came, but this time it sounded much closer. I squinted my eyes at the darkness - was I imagining things again? Heavy curtains covered the bedroom window. I could barely see anything in the room. Was I so lonely that I was hearing phantom noises now?

I turned on the lamp after a third knock. It came from the left wall. Rats don’t know how to knock, do they? I got up from the bed with a shiver. The bedroom was cold, I could see my breath in front of me. I gingerly touched the wall, it was just a wall, what did I expect? This time I could feel the vibrations when the knock came again, much louder. I ran back to bed, dread settling in my bones. What if there was some homeless person behind it? It was an irrational thought, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the fear.

I tried to call Namjoon but it only went to voicemail. And what would I even tell him? That there was someone inside our bedroom wall? The whole situation seemed ridiculous but at the same time the knocking only got louder. I huddled in my blanket waiting for it to stop. The knocking had turned to pounding, the sound reverberating through my skull. Surely our neighbors must’ve heard it?

Wednesday

I called the landlord and insisted that he should check for rats, but he said there were no rats. I asked the neighbors about the sounds; nobody had heard anything, not a single scratch or a squeak. I was losing my mind. Namjoon looked so concerned when he came home this morning. I looked like a crazy woman, red eyes, disheveled hair, don't even get me started on the eyebags. He insisted that I go see a doctor, maybe a therapist. The stress was getting to me. I was so desperate for sleep, but all I could do was get ready for work.

The day was a blur - the only thing I properly remember was almost screaming at a five year old for showing me his drawing of a rainbow. I was going crazy. I stared at the empty bed, dreading to fall asleep. I prayed to every deity in existence for sleep. I was sure that the noise from last night had been stress induced and after a good night’s sleep everything would be okay.

Someone was speaking. Was Namjoon back? I glanced at the clock, it was midnight. I reluctantly shuffled out of the blankets and turned on the light. The room was empty, just another dream then. But as soon as I turned off the light, I heard it again, clear as day, a quiet laugh. It echoed around the room as if it had a life of its own.

I fought the rising panic in my chest. I was standing in the dark with my hand on the light switch. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights but I was frozen in place, heart pounding. There was someone in the room, someone besides me, someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.

I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Someone was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the cold radiating from their body. A chill ran down my spine. My brain stopped working, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to die. Was he going to stab me? Strangle me? Maybe he’d torture me just for the fun of it.

“MINE!” a guttural voice said, laced with such malice that the adrenaline finally kicked in. My fingers acted on their own, turning the lights on. My body whirled around before I could stop it to see the face of this stranger. But there was no one there. The room was empty.

Thursday

I woke up with a massive headache. I was somehow in my bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Fear spiked through me as soon as I heard someone walk towards the bedroom door. I was about to scream when Namjoon peaked through the door and said, “Hey baby, want some scrambled eggs?”

I don’t know what took over me but as soon as I heard his voice I started sobbing. He quickly scooped me up in his arms and tried to soothe me. He was so confused as to why his girlfriend was crying first thing in the morning. Between sobs I told him what had happened, what was still happening - I couldn’t help it. I wanted someone to know, no, I needed someone to know. It felt like I was losing my mind. How could the room be empty?

Namjoon insisted that I take a day off today, but I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that apartment, I couldn’t stay there. I wanted to feel the sun on my skin, I wanted to hear the children’s laughter. My boyfriend was sure that it was just a nightmare. Was it though? I was sure I was wide awake. I had heard his voice, clear as day, mine, that’s what he had said. Mine.

Namjoon tried to take some time off but his boss wouldn’t let him. He had to go on a business trip. I had assured him that I would call him immediately if anything happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing in the dark. The sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the stress had finally gotten a hold of me. That’s what it was, my brain trying to make sense of my emotions. Nothing else.

I reluctantly got off the elevator. It was almost midnight, I had stayed out with my friends as long as I could. I was dreading going back to my empty apartment. As soon as I entered, I swept the living room with my eyes. Everything was in its place. Namjoon was a bit of a neat freak, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I exhaled shakily; I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath.

I debated whether I should turn off the bedroom lights or not. On one hand, I was an adult and I could just sleep with lights on. On the other, I was an adult and not a six year old who was scared of some imaginary monster. I had too much pride, so I hesitantly turned off the lights and hopped under the blankets.

I couldn’t fall asleep, I was too tense. The sound of the refrigerator, the comforting ticking of the clock, every familiar sound had suddenly turned eerie. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt exposed, like someone was watching me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I debated whether I should open my eyes or just keep them closed.

I chickened out and opened my eyes, frantically looking around. There was nothing. The bedroom was slightly illuminated and I had purposefully kept the curtains open, just to let some light in. I sighed and burrowed more under the soft fabric, hugging a pillow. Nightmare, that’s all it was, just a nightmare.

I slowly relaxed, tracing patterns with my eyes on the dull, yellow wallpaper. I’d always hated that wallpaper, it was the color of piss. The pattern on it was irritating, just a bunch of lines that seemed to lead nowhere. The more I looked at it, the more I was vexed. I had half a mind to get up and violently peel it off the wall when I saw it.

A pair of eyes were looking at me from the heating vent. The vent was located on top of the wall, its cover was open. Even though it was pitch black in that small space, I could clearly see those hostile orbs. Vertical pupils stared at me with such hatred that I couldn’t help but whimper. Every instinct in my body recoiled from terror. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, my heart painfully pounding in my chest, I’d never felt so alive and so helpless.

I wanted to run away from those eyes, the staring boring through my skull. I wanted to scream - surely someone would hear me? I wanted to call Namjoon, I wanted to feel safe. But I couldn’t. I had a sinking feeling that if I made any movement, it’d come out and jump on me. So I just laid there, barely breathing, perfectly still, like a dead body.

It laughed. A horrible grating laugh that rang through the room. It touched my skin and I felt an intense pain, like a thousand tiny cuts. It was such a repulsive sound that I had to force myself from flinching. My tiniest movement could set it off. I didn’t know how I knew that, I didn’t know if it was even logical but at that moment, all I could think of was those eyes, dripping with venom.

Mine. It growled. It kept saying that over and over again, sometimes it was soft, like a baby’s whisper, sometimes it was louder than thunder. The sound was in the room but at the same time it was in my head, like an airpod had fallen through my ear and landed in my skull. It was everywhere.

Friday

I woke up groggy. My body felt like someone had put it through a blender, my head throbbing in pain. I could barely open my eyes, everything hurt. I didn’t remember much about last night, the only thing I could recall was being extremely afraid. I reached for my phone and somehow, through trial and error, dialed my boss to call in sick. I was so exhausted and as soon as I mumbled my apologies, I lost consciousness.

My eyes opened to a dark room. I sighed when I felt a body press against my back. Namjoon was back, everything was going to be okay. I rolled around and buried my face in his neck. I’d never felt so safe. I inhaled deeply, he smelled so good, like orange blossoms. When did he change his cologne?

He put his hands around me, clutching me to his chest. I had missed him so much, I gripped his shirt. When did he start wearing a shirt to bed? His arms caged me to him tightly.

“Joonie, too much,” I whined when he squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“MINE,” he growled.

Saturday

The smell hit him before he could see inside the room, metallic, like the smell in a butcher shop. Detective Jung almost lost his breakfast when he saw the crime scene. The ugly yellow wallpaper was covered in blood. It had seeped through the blankets and the mattress. Every color was distorted by red. There was a pile of undistinguishable body parts on the bed. The soft carpet made squelching sounds as the forensic team moved around the room.

Detective Jung left the apartment in a hurry, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He would question the suspects first - to him, everyone who wasn’t the victim was a suspect. It was better than going back inside and putting together the puzzle that once used to be a human being.

Kim Namjoon was sobbing in a corner, the victim’s boyfriend. He was the one who had called the police after coming home from a business trip. He was in shock, he could barely comprehend anything that was happening around him. Detective Jung tried to talk to him with no success, he’d just have to wait.

“What happened?” a melodic voice asked.

“Who are you?”

“Park Jimin, I moved here a month ago.”

#bts x reader #bts horror #demon jimin #bts demon au #bts fanfiction #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts jimn #bts namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #ssscentral #sssc #kas

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #ironstrange x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #tony stark x you

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moss-lyman · 3 years

Note

I absolutely adore your writing. Because I'm a masochist, can I ask for “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do"...but maybe with a less-angsty finish 🥺

I am a big masochist, so this was right up my alley ;)

set post-series.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m tired, Josh, and this conversation is going nowhere, so I’m leaving.”

“Of course you are,” he says, fire in his eyes. “That’s all you know how to do.”

She rounds on him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve left me twice already, Donna. Both without so much as a goodbye. I guess I should be grateful you’re giving me a heads up this time.”

“That’s not fair. This is different and you know it.”

“I think it is fair,” he argues. “Because I’m right here.” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m not running, I’m not avoiding you, and I have never left you.” She rolls her eyes and it spurs him on further. “I was there, committing fucking perjury for you and saving not only your job, but keeping you out of jail. I was there after that bullshit with Jack or- or when you found out your granddad died.” He brings his hand up to tick off his fingers. “I was there at 4 in the morning when those creepy neighbor guys wouldn’t leave you alone. I was there in Germany without a second thought, Donna. I was there! You keep leaving. Not me.”

She stands frozen by his front door, both of their breathing coming out a little heavier as they stare at each other. She watches as he unclenches his fist and roughly runs his fingers through his hair, spinning around so he isn’t facing her anymore.

“If you leave,” he murmurs, still not looking at her. “That’s it. I can’t keep going in circles, Donna. Either you want this or you don’t.”

Her mouth quirks at that. They really have switched places with him giving her an ultimatum. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly walks over to him. He doesn’t react when she grabs his hand, so she walks around so they’re face to face.

“I don’t want to leave,” she says quietly. “But I need for you to hear me.”

“Donna, I hear you loud and clear, alright?”

“No, you don’t. You’re listening, but you’re not hearing me.” She challenges him with her body language, but he doesn’t move, just holds her hand tighter. “You’re right. At least on part of it,” she starts. “And I’ll give you the first time, but if you think it was easy for me to leave you last year, you’re wrong. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Josh, and that includes Gaza.”

Josh grips her hand tighter and steps back to sit them down on the couch, not letting her go.

“You weren’t hearing me back then either and I felt like my only option was to leave and it killed me. You have no idea how many times I picked up the phone to call you and beg for my job back, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he asks softly.

“My whole life revolved around you. Everything I did, everything, was tied to you in some way. I thought I was getting away with it, but when CJ called me out—“

“Hold on,” he interrupts. “What do you mean CJ called you out?”

“Before Gaza,” she murmurs, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. “During the lockdown, she basically said you were underutilizing me and I let you because... it’s you. I was staying in an unsatisfactory job because it meant I still got to be with you and hearing someone else say it was one of the most humiliating moments of my life and then Gaza happened and you came to me.” She smiles softly at him and rubs his forearm as his brow creases in concern. “And I thought we had a moment, but I got back and it was like nothing had changed, we were still doing the same song and dance we’d been doing, and it pissed me off.”

“We did have a moment,” he assures.

“I know we did, but I felt like I butchered it with Colin - who, by the way, was just a reaction to what CJ said - and when I got back to work, it was just made more and more clear that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from you. With my job or otherwise.”

“I should’ve made the time,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“I was mad at you for a long time, but I still missed you like crazy. It was very confusing.”

He grins. “I know what that’s like.”

“And I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m glad I left. It made me stand on my own two legs and do something on my own, with no ulterior motives behind it. It was mine even if my candidate lost to yours, I at least knew I was capable and didn’t need you professionally to be successful.”

Josh sits quietly for a moment, looking at their interlocked hands as she continues to run her thumb over his knuckles. He takes a deep breath. “Where does that leave us now?”

She smiles. “Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

She searches his gaze and squeezes his hand. “On how sure you are.”

“About what?”

“About this,” she clarifies. “Me. Us.”

“I already told you—“

“I know you’re not leaving. I mean about the living situation. It’s a big - massive - step and I don’t want to just dive right in if we’re not ready because I’ve waited so long for this, Josh,” she says, pleading with him. “I don’t want anything to mess it up. This is too important. So, if me keeping my apartment - just for now,” she amends when he opens his mouth to protest, “will help, then I’ll do it. Transition is insane even if it’s two Democrat administrations, so I would completely understand if—“

“I want you here,” he says firmly, looking right at her. “I want you right here. Not across town. Here. With me.”

“You’re sure?”

He groans and tilts his head back dramatically before looking back at her. “I need for you to hear me now, alright?” he says and he grabs her face with both of his hands. “You are my girlfriend and I am your boyfriend, and as your boyfriend, I am asking you to please, for the love of God, move in with me.”

Her smile grows. “Well, since you asked nicely.” She laughs when he tackles her back onto the couch and she brings his face to hers, kissing him chastely. “I’ll move in,” she murmurs.

“Permanently,” he mumbles, his lips dragging down her throat. “Tell your landlord your stuff will be out by next week.”

“Permanently.” She wraps her leg over his to widen her hips, letting him lay more comfortably over her. “No more leaving. I promise.”

Josh pulls back and brings a hand up, his pinky out. “Pinky swear?”

Donna wraps her own pinky with his. “Pinky swear.”

He grins, satisfied, and moves her hand to wrap around his neck. “Since we’re officially live-in lovers, we have to consummate it,” he says, his dimples deepening when she pinches the back of his neck. “In every room. It’s the rules.”

She smirks and runs her fingers into his hair. “Oh, is it?”

He nods again. “Yep.”

Donna wraps her other leg around his waist. “Well, since it’s the rules...”

And she draws him down again.

#my fic #josh x donna #the west wing

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heygutlcss · 2 years

Text

@ircnwrought (MARIA)

Sixteen flights of steps. that was how far she’d helped him get to his apartment, and that didn’t even count the distance walking from the hospital to his tenement.

And boy, had he been nothing but nasty to her.

The Jets were scattered, the Sharks, too. He’s still been in the hospital when Diesel told him he’d got a job in Rochester and was gonna ask Grazi if she’d go with him. He guessed she’d said yes because he sure as hell hadn’t seen her since before then. He didn’t blame her though. Seeing her almost die would have scared him out of his mind too. Diesel was good, she needed that. Probably the smartest thing she’d done since she moved here.

The Jets knew that he knew what they had done as soon as hey thought he was dead, and, Puerto Rican or not, a chick was still a chick. If they thought he wouldn’t find out about it then they were beyond saving. The wide birth was needed. He’d swing at the first guy who came by. Diesel had given him the names, told him he’d been locked out of Docs-- heard Grazi screaming for help to open the store and everything.

Made sense no one came. Didn’t mean it should have happened.

Everything looked different now. For starters he’s got a view out of his window now. the little old lady to his right had died and now five PR families lived in that one shoebox of an apartment that Riff knew looked exactly like his. One room, four walls, sink, stove on the far wall, and half a closet with electric that never worked well . The young couple on the left had moved out as soon as the PRs had moved in. Moving boxes had been outside his place when he’s first gotten back with Maria, and that’s what set him off.

Landlord would grab for whatever money they could-- especially since the government was putting off tearing down buildings that housed Puerto Ricans. Riff didn’t mind the integrated part, he’d seen the Chinese, the Italians, and even those Harlem folk moving out this way. The difference between them and the Puerto Ricans was that they’d always been here. They belonged to the West Side as much as Riff did.

Puerto Ricans did not. Tony had thought the same at one time, too.

He’d woken up in his chair, noting something smelling good. His line of site falls on the dresser. It was one of three pieces of furniture that he’d owned. Found it for free on the side of the road with Tony. Tony had helped him haul it up here and had helped him fix it up before carving “Tony was here” in Polish right across the front.

Riff hadn’t let him sand it off and now it is the only thing he can stare at. Tony wasn’t here, not anymore. But his girl was. Standing right there in the kitchenette. He’d told her to beat it, why’d she come back?

He leaned forward, sucking in a painful grunt, his pain meds having long since worn off. He didn’t own a blanket that looked like this. He hadn’t let her in either. Did he give her a key? Did he forget to lock the door? What did it matter. Tony’s girl was here now.

She wasn’t leaving. She was like Tony in that. That hunkie would have been all over her, asking what she was doing, asking if he could help, smiling, and laughing with her.

He didn’t like that he wasn’t. That she was standing there all by herself.

So he sucked his breath, set that blanket aside ( it smelled like summer), and forced himself up as quietly as pain would allow. He knew his back was bad, but this stab made everything worse.

He walked up behind her, reaching over her to to grab the thing she needed,

“Here, Rosie.” he muttered, resting his chin atop her head as he handed it to her. He could still smell Tony in her hair, even though he’d been dead for weeks now. He stepped off then, resting against the sink, ‘ What’s cooking?” that’s it. that’s his apology.

#ircnwrought #c; riff #V:ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᶜᵃᵘᶜᵃˢᶤᵃᶰˢ

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hotchgan · 3 years

Text

What love does to a person

Summery: Blake gets kidnapped and it's up to the team to find him.

A/N: Thank you for @yourlocalheartbreaker for giving me this idea and thank you to everyone that follows me. I just reached a 300 followers milestone and decided to write this for you guys!

Taglist: @ellyhotchner @unionjackpillow @eleanorbloom

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Original Male Character (Blake)

Warnings: Angst (with happy ending), torture, kidnapping, mention of suicide, blood

Blake was walking to his apartment. He was on his phone texting his boyfriend, Aaron Hotchner. He hasn't told his team yet about him but Blake is patient. He only met the team once when he first met Aaron. He will never forget that moment.

Blake suddenly heard a car slow down behind him. He felt emptiness in his stomach but he just brushed it off. Probably some dropped their phone between the car seats.

He shouldn't have ignored it though because he heard someone get out of the car and walk behind him. Blake walked faster and tried calling Aaron but he didn't pick up. He was about to leave a voicemail before he felt a bag go over his head. Everything went black after that.

Aaron saw Blake calling him but he ignored it. It was late at night in the BAU jet and all he wants is to take a nap. He is probably just calling him about Jack and buying him a new action figure. He sees a notification about a voicemail but he fell asleep before he could check it.

The jet landed around early in the morning and the team had good enough sleep to work through the entire day. Aaron went to the bathroom and changed into another suit he packed in his go-bag. After he did that, he went got his office to check the voicemail Blake sent him.

Aaron sits on his chair with a big sigh. He closes his eyes and opens the voicemail. Instead of hearing his boyfriend talking about action figures, he heard muffling and a bug thump. Aaron's eyes snap open and replay the voicemail. He was dreaming of that, right? He has to be. His boyfriend getting kidnapped was his biggest fear.

Aaron replays the message but it was the same. Muffling and then a thump. Aaron felt a cold sweat going down his body. Before he could think do anything on what to do, Derek comes into his office.

"Hey, Hotch can I- Hotch are you alright?" Derek asks noticing his paleness. Aaron looks at him.

"Get the team", Aaron says.

"What?"' Derek asks.

"I said get the team!", Aaron says who is now raising his voice. He stands up from his chair

"Not until you tell me what's wrong?", Derek replies, also raising his voice.

"Blake got kidnapped"

"Who?"

"My boyfriend, he got kidnapped and I have proof. Now get the team into the briefing room", Aaron says sternly at Derek. Derek widens his eyes for a second before going out of his office to get the team. Aaron leans against his desk. He silently gulps and pulls his tie off. He can't lose Blake, he can't lose another person he loves.

Five minutes later and the team is in the briefing room listening to the voicemail.

"When did Blake sent you this?" Dave asks.

"Yesterday, at night I think. Before I fell asleep", Aaron replies.

"Are you sure he just fell or something?" JJ asks.

"No, I called him five times and he didn't pick up. And I called his landlord and he didn't show up to his apartment", Aaron replies.

"Ok, so Blake has been missing for more than six hours now. What do we know about kidnappers", Emily says to the team.

"Most kidnappers stalk their victims before capturing them. And they either know the person or they remind them of someone who completes their fantasy", Aaron replies. The team looks at him and then each other.

"What?", Aaron asks.

"Hotch, let’s uh go outside for a second", Derek says to Aaron. Aaron looks at him confused but goes outside the briefing room.

“I think you should sit this one out”, Derek says once they are outside.

“What?!” Aaron asks.

“You’re dealing with a lot of emotion right now and he’s your boyfriend-”, Derek starts explaining.

“I am the unit chief and I get to decide if I want to be on this case or not”, Aaron interrupts. Derek sighs. He knew this would happen.

"Remember what happened to Haley?" Derek says making Aaron freeze. They both stare at each other for a while. Derek hates mentioning Haley's death but it was needed in this situation. Aaron silently gulps and looks at the ground.

"I'll be in my office", Aaron says quietly. Derek nods as Aaron goes back to his office. He sighs hoping he did the right thing.

Aaron sits on his chair. He stays there for a moment thinking about what's happening to Blake right now. How angry he must be at him? For not picking up the phone. How hurt he is right now? Most kidnappers like to torture their victims and that is probably what's to Blake. Aaron felt tears coming down his cheeks. It didn't take him long to start crying. Aaron places his arms at his desk and buries his face on them. It was the most effective way for Aaron to cry without making a noise. He had learned that from his early years as Unit Chief. Aaron cries into his arms staining his sleeves. He cries for a good seven minutes before staying there silently. He tries to think of something, of anything else to get his mind off his boyfriend getting tortured this second. Suddenly he remembers an old memory of them.

“Dance!”

“I already told you, I don’t dance!” Aaron says to his boyfriend. Right now they are at a club in the middle of the dance floor.

“I don’t believe you”, Blake replies. He holds Aaron’s hands and starts dancing to the music. Blake laughs at Aaron who is standing still.

Blake lets go of his hands and steps closer to him. He places his hands on Aaron's hips. Aaron puts his hands on Blake's chest. As if the DJ was watching them, the hip-hop music changes into slow music. Blake presses his forehead to Aaron's. They both start swaying to the music, not caring who in the world sees them. Because now it's just both of them. They both are happy. They both love each other. And they both want to grow old together.

But that wasn't going to happen now. Not until Aaron's team finds Blake, alive.

Aaron gets up and wipes the tears on his face. He then opens his laptop, hoping to distract him from what's going on right now. He had texted Jessica to keep Jack for a while but not tell him what's going on.

Aaron opens his laptop to see an email sent from a person he doesn't know. He opens it and sees a link. Cautiously, he clicks on the link. Aaron's eyes widen at what he sees in the link. He closes the laptop and quickly brings it to the briefing room.

"Hotch, you can't be here", Emily says as she sees Aaron walk into the room. Aaron places the laptop on the table and opens it.

"Garcia, can you trace this live video and see where it's taking place", Aaron asks Garcia.

"Uh, I can try but what's in the live feed?", Garcia asks. Aaron projects his screen on the big t.v.

In the video, there is Blake tied to a chair with duct tape on his mouth. His light brown hair is all over his face and there is blood coming down the side of his face.

"Hello Agent Hotchner", says the voice from the video. A man steps into the camera's view. The man's hair looks like to be just shaven. He is wearing an old hoodie and some ripped jeans.

"You probably might not remember me so let me refresh your memory. The year was 1993 and it was a court case of someone who allegedly commits murder. That, someone, was me. But here's the thing, I didn't commit the crime. In fact, I had an alibi buy you convinced the judges that I commit murder, and I was sent to prison for nineteen years. But now I'm back and ready to actually commit murder", the man says to the camera. He picks up a bat and swings to Blake's stomach. Blake groans in pain and slumps down, trying to cover his stomach. The man repeatedly hits Blake’s stomach with the bat.

Aaron flinches. He can feel tears forming in his eyes again. Aaron stands up and leaves the room. He can’t let his team see him breakdown. He goes back to his office and locks the door. It’s the only place he knows he can breakdown at where no one can see him. Aaron drops to the ground, his back is against the door and he sobs. He shouldn’t have to go through this. It’s all his fault, just like what happened to Haley.

“Aaron?”

Aaron looks up to see Blake in the doorway.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Blake asks.

Blake slowly walks towards Aaron and sits next to him on the bed. Aaron doesn’t say anything and looks at the ground.

“You know you can tell me anything”, Blake says.

“It was just a bad case, that's all", Aaron finally replies. He was hoping Blake would just drop the conversation.

Blake looks at him sadly and hugs him. Aaron couldn't control the tears spilling from his eyes. Blake doesn’t say anything and just let Aaron cry in his arms. It's the best he could do right now.

"Hotch?"

Aaron quickly wipes the tears on his face and stands up. He opens the door to see Emily.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t-”, Aaron starts apologizing before Emily cuts him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was just wondering if you wanted to talk”, Emily interrupts. Aaron looks at her for a second before letting her in his office.

“We’re going to find him, Aaron”, Emily says trying to reassure him.

“I just don’t want to lose him”, Aaron replies. He can’t. Blake is proof that Aaron can love again.

Emily looks at him sadly. She then steps forwards and wraps her arms around Aaron. Aaron freezes for a second before hugging his back. He hugs her tightly and closes his eyes. He suddenly thinks back to what the man said about a court case and him going to prison. His eyes shot open and lets go of Emily.

“Where’s Garcia?” Aaron asks. Emily looks at him confused.

“She’s at her office-”, Emily replies but she couldn’t finish her sentence because Aaron was already out the door.

Aaron quickly walks to Garcia’s office. He slows down when he passes Strauss’s office. If she knew what was happening right now, she would immediately give the case to someone else. And Aaron only trusts the team to find his boyfriend. Aaron finally reaches her office and goes inside.

“Sir, you’re not supposed to-”, Garcia tries to say.

“Fred Dawson”, Aaron says.

“What?” Garcia asks.

“Fred Dawson. He kidnapped Blake”, Aaron says again. Garcia turns to face her computer and starts typing his name.

“Fred Dawson, he was charged for murder in 1993. He has a wife but she committed suicide after Dawson went to jail. He was released two months ago”, Garcia reads of the screen.

“That’s him. He kidnapped Blake”, Aaron says. He gets up and quickly runs out of the door.

“But sir! You’re not supposed to ...”, Garcia tries to say but it was too late, Aaron was already gone. Garcia quickly calls the team and tells them who the kidnapper is and where he currently lives. She also told him that Aaron was going after him right now. She hopes that Aaron won’t do anything he shouldn’t do.

Aaron kicks the front door open. He slowly walks inside with a gun in his hand. He walks through the living room and towards the basement. He slowly opens the door, not alerting Dawson that he is there. He slowly walks down the stairs. He quickly shows himself to the kidnapper.

“Well well well, I was wondering when you would show up”, Dawson says. He has a gun pointed towards Blake’s head. Blake has tears streaming down his cheeks. His clothes are all torn up and there is blood staining them.

“Put the gun down or I swear to god I will kill you”, Aaron threatens. Dawson smiles.

“Oh is this how we’re going to play, huh? My wife died because of you and now I’m going to get revenge”, Dawson replies.

Suddenly, Aaron’s phone rings. Aaron looks at his phone for a split second to see Morgan calling him. Dawson took this chance to point his gun towards Aaron. But before he can shoot Aaron, Blake kicks him in the shin. Dawson groans in pain and tries to shoot Blake. But Aaron got to him first. Dawson’s body drops to the ground and blood spills from his forehead.

Aaron quickly runs towards Blake and drops his gun. He rips the duct tape from Blake’s mouth and unties his hands. Blake gasps, finally being able to breathe from his mouth.

“Blake, I’m so sorry-”, Aaron starts apologizing. Tears forms in his eyes at the sight of his boyfriend.

“You found me”, Blake says softly.

“What?”

“Y-you found me and saved my life”, Blake says to Aaron. Aaron looks at him confused. He almost got him killed, why is he saying that he saved his life?

“B-but I- I was the reason he almost tried to kill you”, Aaron says, confused. Blake looks at him sadly. He knew him long enough to know he was going to blame himself.

“But you found me. I knew you were going to find no matter what that guy said to me”, Blake replies. Aaron runs his hand through Blake’s hair. He pulls him into a hug. Soon his team found Aaron and Blake. They both leave the room, giving them some privacy. Aaron hugs him tightly, afraid he would disappear if he let go. And Blake hugged him just as tight.

“Marry me”, Blake says softly. Aaron pulls away from their hug and looks at Blake.

“What?” Aaron asks even though he knew exactly what he said.

“Marry me”, Blake says again. Aaron feels tears going down his face.

“Ok, I’ll marry you”, Aaron replies. Blake smiles at him. Aaron presses his lips against Blake’s. Blake kisses him back. Because now it's just both of them. They both are happy. They both love each other. And they both want to grow old together. And that was going to happen now. Because Aaron found Blake, alive.

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