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youreyeslookliketheocean · 3 years

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youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.)

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation).

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

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Chapter 12

TW: None

Words Count: 1.4k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 13

The air is tense that morning. Your brows furrow, thinking that you have to share the ride with Jimin now that everyone knows he’s your husband. Nearing the car, you notice there’s unfamiliar face among Jimin’s security. He usually has two with him, one is his bodyguard and the other being his bodyguard as well as his driver. You never really get the chance to know them apart from their name, considering you’ve never shared the ride with your husband.

He doesn’t say anything through the ride, his eyes glued to his tab, no doubt reading the morning news. You stare outside through the window, lost in your own thoughts.

Once you reach the company, you stand behind your husband but Jimin looks back and grabs your hand in his, startling you. It takes you a moment to process everything but not long for you to realise it’s just for show yet you can’t help having fluttered heart, walking hand in hand in public with your husband for the first time.

Reaching your desk, Irene simply watches the two of you as he speaks several things to Mina who’s at the desk as well, but haven’t yet let go of your hand.

He turns to you then and you stiffen immediately. “See you at lunch.” He says, way too soft and you feel like punching him for how he’s making you feel. His thumb and index finger cups your jaw briefly and gently before he leaves for his room.

It’s just a show, you tell yourself.

Another cons of all this travesty, is that Irene is handing you a lot of things that require you to personally see Jimin. She seems keen to let you handle him entirely.

“What do you think about this?” Jimin’s voice echoes in the whole room.

Huh? You look at him, puzzled. Is he really asking for your opinion? “I- I don’t really know all about- umm, maybe you should ask-“

“If I need a professional’s advice I would’ve asked Jinyoung. Besides, you sat through the meeting with me as well. I need your opinion.” Jimin says firmly.

You look at him hesitantly. You honestly have no idea about business world. But since this relates slightly about art, which you might know an inkling about, you answer him. “I think it’s good if you accept Wangji Co to handle the cover. They’ve been in the industry for long yet they always have fresh ideas. Apart from that, you can ensure you have a good term with Taiwan since you have their company involved.”

He remains silent for a moment, staring at you so deeply you silently pray you’re not flushing. Then he nods. “We will be meeting one of the arts director in charge. You will accompany me.” He glances at the watch. “I’ll be done in 10 minutes.”

He simply says and you take it as a sign you’re dismissed.

You take one last look in the mirror. This is your first time going out in public with your husband. Although it is work related, you’re still nerved out. You’ve never accompanied him to any event. Irene apparently never does too. Sure enough. When you google your husband, he never seems to have pictures taken with other women.

When you head downstairs, you feel your heart skips a beat when you see your husband, dressed smartly in impeccable black suit. His ash grey hair had been styled and he looks so good looking you almost want to cry.

Jimin on the other hand though, has his brows furrowed and lips pursed when he takes in your appearance.

“What on earth are you wearing?” He asks once you’re close enough.

You gulp. You’ve searched through every dress in the huge closet in the limited time Jimin gave you and this was the most modest dress you could find. You’re wearing a long dress that has a huge slit in front from your thigh to bottom. Luckily, the slit is not high enough to reveal scars you have on your upper thigh. To make it worse, the dress has such huge cleavage opening space, you’ve tried bringing your long hair to front in an attempt to cover your cleavage as much as you can. “I- I’m only wearing what’s in the closet.”

He tongues his cheek and you swear he looks so hot. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Lee about your wardrobe,” is all he says before you’re ushered into his car.

Even by looking at his side profile, Jimin looks so stunning you can’t help but stare in awe.

“Take a picture, I think that’ll last longer.” He snaps and you look away immediately. How does he even know without even looking at you, you shake your head.

It’s a launching event as well as exhibition by the director Jimin’s supposed to meet, Mr. Choi.

He speaks with several people and you just obediently follow after him, taking notes of who they are. A while later, you feel the urge to pee but you decided to wait until the main launching event is done before excusing yourself to the washroom.

As soon as you’re done, your eyes seek your husband immediately between the rows of art and crowds of people. As you make your way through the hallway, you find yourself drawn to an art hung on the wall, illuminated with a warm light above it, further enunciating its creativity.

It’s a woman, alone and she’s sitting down hugging her knees.

Something tugs your heart and the more you stare at the painting, the more you feel your eyes are watery.

“It’s called the Isle of Sorrow.” A voice beside you says, making you jump. You turn to see Jimin, his eyes towards the painting in front the both of you.

“They say she lost her will to love again that’s why she’s wallowing in sorrow.”

“It could also be she’s unable to love the person she desires.” You hesitate but continue to say when Jimin remains silent. “The painter.. I think he’s potraying contradiction. She’s in sadness and the background should’ve highlighted that as well, maybe monochrome settings? Yet the brushes are bold and the colors the painter chose are strong. Her love.. is strong. But she can’t give it to the other person. Perhaps because she loves someone who she shouldn’t, like an irony the life is.” You finish. Seconds later, your eyes widen and you bit your lip. What on earth did you just say?

A heavy silence sets between the two of you in the midst of casual conversations and regular laughter heard in the hall.

“Didn’t know you’re into art.” He says after several moments.

You only smile sadly. You don’t know a lot of things about me.

“I think art’s fascinating. I like when I can have control on it. What it can become. How it turns out. I don’t have a lot of it, growing up.” You say softly.

Jimin looks at you. “A lot of what?”

Your eyes find him too and you both lock gazes briefly. “Chance to change things.”

He holds your gaze steady before you look down first. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to hold his gaze for a long time, it’s hard enough to breathe as it is with him around.

“Me too.” He says quietly and you slowly look at him again. You notice his eyes has sorrow in it too, like the ones reflected in the painting before you. “I’ve always had to live the path set for me. Kinda funny, cause I’ve never been close to my parents but they expect me to receive everything blindly. There’s always pressure on my shoulder and I can never let myself fail,” he laughs as if mocking himself. “The moment I show my weakness, everyone flocks around me to take what I have. And anyone close to me can easily turn away from me.”

You stare at him as his expression hardens. You have to say something to comfort him. “Jimin.. I.. I would never.. do that.. to you.”

He looks at you then. Eyes pierced into yours. “You will. Once you know the reason behind this marriage. You’ll hate me too.”

You don’t know what to say to that but the coldness behind his words make shivers run down your spine making you shudder.

Jimin draws his breath before he shrugs his coat out of him. He then pulls you towards him, making you gasp. “It’s okay, you don’t have to-“ you start when he put his coat around your bare shoulder.

“Just stay still.” He says.

His hands are in front of you, fixing his coat snd dangerously close to your breast. You look up and there’s no mistaking his eyes that roam over your curves so you awkwardly struggle to look anywhere else.

He’s your own husband for god’s sake.. why do you have to feel so shy?

A/N: So I actually ended up posting this chapter as scheduled 😂 there’s a sudden surge of things to be done this weekend and it was pretty hectic 🥺 I’m sorry guys I’m a mere human I hope you guys aren’t mad 🥺

Oh and i’m not really the most knowledgeable about art, but art is subjective and it all depends on how one intepret so yeah 😂

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter I thought it ended in a pretty cute way hehehehe

Link to Chapter 13 Posted on 210426 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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hikarimiyanaga · 3 years

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I'll Always Be Yours (Part 4)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Fourth Song : Kung ‘Di Rin Lang Ikaw (If it’s not you)

You finally try to move on… but you’ve always had a stubborn heart.

A/N : Had to get help because google translate is making my brain hurt.

Warning : Angst Still

That doesn't get removed until the last three songs. So enjoy.

Dialogues that are in parenthesis are spoken in Japanese in this.

If you were not the reason

Will it force my heart not to be hurt?

If it’s not you then it won’t matter

I will be forced to hope for the two of us

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to love other girls before… just. When you had the best, others can’t really compare. Even if you have touched others, you still remember her the most. Even if others have kissed you, it was still her lips that you crave the most. Even if others flirt with you, it was still her laughter that you want.

Loving has never been easy for you… Not when someone has stolen your heart and has never given it back.

“Y/N?” Silvia calls out and you hum. The woman besides you stir and you quickly wear your clothes. You sigh and open your hotel room door.

“Had a late night snack?” You groan as you glare at her.

“Where’s Miyuki?” “Right here!” Miyuki greets and she waves a box of donuts at your face. You quickly snatches it and takes one for yourself. You let them inside as the woman from the night before opens the bedroom door.

“Oh. You have visitors.”

“Yeah.” The woman, still naked, goes to you and gets a donut without a care. She goes back inside your bedroom and presumably dresses herself.

“Jesus. What the fuck?” You see Silvia has turned around while Miyuki just gets a donut from the box.

“Seriously? Are you a virgin?”

“Still! GOD!”

“She’s a gentlewoman.” Miyuki answers and you nod.

“Yeah. I got that… have you done it?”

“DAMN IT! Don’t answer, Miyuki! I swear!”

“Oh! Sp-“ Silvia screeches and you laugh at her.

You were listening to music as Silvia and Miyuki flirt in the other room inside the Ryokan that you were in. You decided to travel around Japan while… trying to get over Natasha. Your phone pings. Another video of her. You decide to ignore it this time and look out of the window. You hum along with the music.

“Hey, boss?” After what seemed like hours, Silvia finally checks in on you.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You going to go in the baths, boss?” Miyuki asks and you shake your head.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Okay. Call us if you need us.” You nod and they close the door to your room.

You’ve been in Japan for a week now. And was it breathtaking. You wonder why your mother never brought you here before… oh.

Natalia hums as you kiss the top of her head.

“What’s that?” You ask as you sit besides her.

“Japan.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’ where my next target is.”

“Oh. Damn.” Natalia hums and she snuggles into you more. “I wanna go there with you.”

“For real?” You hum.

“Yeah. I want to travel the world with you. No mission, no target. Just us.”

“Is that a promise?” You smirk and nod.

“Of course, for our forever.”

You run a hand through your hair and sigh… that’s why.

“She’s in Japan right now.” Natasha and Clint groans at that.

“Damn it.”

“Oh. Her paintings look beautiful.” Natasha’s ears perk up at that.

“Paintings?”

“Yeah. Look. The highest price ever of one of her paintings is 10 million dollars… she donates most of them to charities.”

“Oh. Wow.” Natasha smiles at your paintings and her heart stops at a particular portrait… it was her.

“Nat.” Clint calls out and Natasha looks at him. “You’re crying.” Natasha quickly wipes her tears away as Tony zooms on the portrait.

“Is this you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“Interesting… I’ll have to go to one of her exhibitions then.”

It's cold and I can't move

My difficult heart wants is all you

You were at a club with Silvia and Miyuki, and the two were clearly grinding to each other. You were cold already but didn’t want to ruin their fun so you stayed despite your freezing ass.

(“Hi?”) A woman asks as she sits besides you.

(“Oh. Hello.”) You reply in Japanese which made her smirk.

(“So you know Japanese. I thought you were a foreigner.”)

(“I am. I just love languages… and learned some of them.”)

“Baby, shouldn’t you be resting when you’re with me?” Natalia bites her finger and hums. “Nat. Come on.”

“But I need to learn this!” She huffs as she plops onto you. You grunt as she settles on your lap.

“Don’t worry.” You pick up the book and smile at her. “I’ll help you.”

You learned together with her.

(“Oh. So you’re smart too.”)

(“You could say that.”) You take a sip of your drink and you check the woman out. She was gorgeous and sexy… but somehow you’re mind can only think of Nat tonight. (“And my friends are so drunk.”) You stand and pay your tab. (“Maybe I’ll see you around, gorgeous.”) She giggles and nods at you. You go to Silvia and Miyuki who are just straight making out in the dancefloor. You break their kiss and drag them to the Ryokan you were staying in.

If it’s not us at the end

Restrain myself not to fall in love again

If it’s not us at the end

Will I stop my heart to love you?

You hum as Silvia and Miyuki groan. The three of you are eating breakfast at the Ryokan. And while you were calmly eating yours, they were both in pain.

“This is what happens, when you two are jealous and are drinking.”

“What?”

“Silvia is jealous of that man that you called your best friend.”

“Oh. Shinichiro?”

“So many syllables.” You mumble as you drink down your green tea. Miyuki is teasing Silvia when you leave them. Your phone pings and it was an e-mail this time… from Stark Industries? No… from Tony Stark himself.

Jesus. A promise of at least a million if you reserve a spot for your next exhibition. You replied.

“I’m in.” Tony smirks at Natasha and tosses his phone to the table.

“What?”

“Your girlfriend? The Painter? I got her to reserve me a spot for her next art exhibition.” Natasha smiles and hugs Tony.

“Thanks, Tony.” He nods at her and gets his breakfast.

“Hey, boss?” You hum and look at Silvia. “A woman is trying to get past Miyuki and insists that you know her.” You turn and see the gorgeous woman from the bar.

“I know her. Let her through your girlfriend.”

“You sure?” You nod in confirmation and Silvia leaves to let Miyuki let the woman go through.

(“Your bodyguards are overprotective of you.”) You smirk.

(“That’s what I pay them for.”) She laughs then sits beside you.

(“I haven’t introduced myself yet.”) You hum and look at her. (“The name’s Yukino, I’m a curator.”) You raise your eyebrows at her. (“And you’re master Y/N Y/LN.”) You chuckle.

(“So you have any motives in talking with me?”)

(“Yes?”) You hum. (“A date, if I can.”) You laugh and agree.

It’s been a week since you’ve been casually seeing Yukino. She wasn’t just gorgeous and sexy. She was also kind, smart and a bad-ass… she kinda remind-

You take a sharp breath to stop your mind from going back to her… but you can’t help it. Specially when you think of how Yukino laughs. It sounds so good but. You run a hand through your hair.

“GODDAMN IT!” You shout in frustration and you rip away the sketch that has her face on it. You cry and break down. You have to break up with Yukino. She was amazing… which is why you can’t promise her a relationship. Not when Natasha clearly still has your heart.

You were eating ice cream while binge watching true crime documentaries… they were morbid for other people but you always loved them. Specially when you watched them with her. You had to see a teary-eyed Yukino while you told her that someone else still had your heart. Your stubborn heart would have loved her. If only you had it then you would’ve fall for her.

“Fuck you, Nat.” You mumble, bitter on missing out on a relationship that would’ve been amazing.

If you were not the reason

Will you choose to avoid to not get hurt?

If not you then who else?

The tears in the morning for the two of us

Releasing because I’m unable to move

Do you stop your heart that is shouting another?

You’ve gathered all of your sketchpads that was full of her drawings… and damn was it a lot.

“Damn, boss.” Silvia whistles when the two steps into your room.

“What are you planning to do with all of them?”

“I don’t know either.” You groan and lay on the floor.

“Want us to burn them?” Miyuki punches Silvia’s shoulder who winces.

“No.” You sigh as you sit up. “Just. I need time to myself.” They nod and leave you alone. You cry as you mourn your heart. The what-ifs. Every relationship that could’ve been happy. And you mourn your future. Because you know… you could never truly get over her.

You release all of them as you think about how easy it was for her to kiss Steve. How good they looked together. How being heroes together must’ve cemented their relationship.

You break down as you sob your heart out.

I’m lost and the view is distant

Preventing my heart that is forcing you

You stare out at the view… it was beautiful but you somehow can’t appreciate it enough to draw it.

“Boss, lunch.”

“Wha- Oh.” You get the food and thank Miyuki. They were both worried for you. You’ve been staring but were not moving your pencil.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” You sigh and shake your head at her. “Do you still blame yourself for Yukino?” You chuckle.

“No. I don’t blame me.” You smile weakly at her. “I blame Natasha.”

“Natasha?”

“Yeah. Romanoff.”

“The Black Widow?” You nod in confirmation and Miyuki tilts her head at you. You smile.

“She used to be mine.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t get over her?”

“I don’t think I ever will.” You eat your lunch.

#Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader #Marvel #Marvel Fanfic #Black Widow x Reader #Black Widow x you #Natasha x you

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes.

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody.

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously.

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before.

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?”

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake.

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation.

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.”

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy.

---

Day 1

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s.

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut.

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank.

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing.

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth.

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side.

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily.

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded.

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.”

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up.

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat.

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door.

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life.

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower.

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand.

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered.

Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away.

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps.

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively.

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?”

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them.

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?”

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him.

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight.

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win.

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it.

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk.

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice.

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos.

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer.

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied.

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign.

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused.

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it.

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck.

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts.

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.”

“Fair.”

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on.

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours.

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road.

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?”

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby.

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.”

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year.

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.”

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room.

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird.

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion.

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said.

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing.

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

Day 3

The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown.

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it.

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison.

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously.

“I liked the long necks.”

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach.

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?”

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?”

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat.

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline.

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan.

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15.

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?”

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.”

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously.

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world.

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game.

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin.

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back.

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them.

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away.

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. “I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his.

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle.

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that.

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches.

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously.

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand.

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side.

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

Day 4

The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona.

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off.

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim.

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.”

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.”

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.”

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night.

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded.

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky.

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him.

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything.

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #matthew tkachuk #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk writing #rat king

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starlit-dreaming · 3 years

Text

[WMMAP] The Slow Burn AU

oh boy guess who’s (a teeny bit) sleep-deprived and back on their bullshit with [concept ideas that they swear to never write]? this pal right here

fun fact, this post is roughly 3400 words :’D

@lithium-15 @d4ddylucas i hope this update brings you joy because i’ve finally convinced myself to open yet another google docs tab for a fic that will cause suffering for us all around, whether it be waiting for, reading, or writing it

i’ll be titling it as “beep beep (answer the phone already you asshole)” just so i can just shorten it to [beep beep] when i tag it on here

the potential titles it could’ve been called in case you didn’t see one of my misc posts about it:

• it was an opportunity missed • call me if you want to reach me • voicemails • this aching heart of mine • may i take your order • it really doesn’t seem like there’s anyone for me • beep beep (answer the phone already you asshole) • a series of bad advice (note to self: don’t listen to helena) • i lost my number; can i have yours?

also im ngl. lowkey got the idea while i was writing this of a pjo au where diana is aphrodite or claude is zeus (which is funny considering that ive been having athy getting nicknamed with “athena” and lucas being nicknamed “luke” for the longest time and only NOW thought of a pjo au)

vague, non-spoiler-y ideas:

• i definitely want lucas and athy to go “lmao they may be attractive but i would Never date them” and then later go “fuck maybe i do want to date them”

• in their pre-irl reveal, they go by athena and luke as nicknames when they text each other

• even though athy seems to be very sociable, i definitely want lucas to call her boring tbh??? also, she Definitely plays otome games in her free time.

• athy definitely has blackie. but i’m not sure if i want to make them be a cute lil pug or a chow chow. case in point:

• fucking adorable, isn’t it? meanwhile, a chow chow is a cute monster of floof and at this point im just being self-indulgent:

• if i wanted to be manhwa-accurate, blackie looks more like a wolfdog or maybe a doberman whatever (i’d have to look more into different types of dog breeds if i really wanted to narrow it all down except i Know i’ll probably start weeping over cute dogs cause i fucking love animals and will coo over it so no, i’m not gonna do that), but because i’m very much a “it’s an au i can do as i please” so i’ll most likely have blackie be a chow chow fluff ball

• athy getting her wisdom tooth removed at one point and texting like an inebriated drunkard that is only coherent thanks to autocorrect

• in the beginning, helena is established to have a romantic interest in lucas, while cabel has a romantic interest in athy. misunderstandings ensue

• i’m deadass rereading last game for this au because of all the pining this fic is gonna have. so there will probably be a few scenes here and there that i got the inspo from the manga. might draw some inspo from other manga/manhwa (i.e. yanagi’s proposal to kujou is a Maybe???)

• college club life even though ive literally never joined any clubs before i dropped out and know nothing. im basing the clubs off of what’s at the community college i went to. taekwondo lucas and tennis player athy?

• cabel being part of the astronomy club, along with helena. tempted to make her be a paralegal but that’s diving a little too close into [it was only one night] ngl

• so lucas canonically has 2 brothers, 1 younger, 1 older. meaning that since lucas is 24 y/o, his younger brother is roughly 14 y/o and his older brother would be maybe 27 y/o. his older bro’s gonna get married in this fic

• lucas has a matchmaking grandma constantly on his case, even more so now that his older brother will be getting married

• “be my matchmaker repellent” lucas @ athy

• lucas is gonna have familial drama in the fact that he’s got brothers and has to Deal with them. meanwhile, athy’s familial drama is that she was raised in a single parent household and has never known her father and ended up meeting him at someone’s goddamn wedding

i’ll essentially be rehashing and expanding on details down below, laying out an outline for the info i mentioned before, but in a more organized manner for my future self’s sanity. it’ll technically be spoilers, even if i might not follow the outline perfectly, since i’m still working through my thought process on how i’d like for this fic to go

OVERVIEW

• AUs: coffee shop + college + wrong number + modern setting + social media??? + strangers to friends to lovers + minor fake dating

• rated: M (no E, no smut, no violence, the only thing that’s E for this fic is Emotional Suffering)

• slice of life vibe, basically

• Ships: lucathy, calena, felily, mentioned claudiana, probably jennkiel, onesided athykiel

• general word count goal: 5k min to 10k max (per chapter)

• total chapter goal: 100 (200 based on the goddamn outline Help)

note: there’s more if you want to read the entire fic outline and get possible in-story spoilers

INTRODUCTION: the setup

• essentially going over a regular day in lucas and athy’s life

• establishing a worker-customer acquaintanceship (meaning that there’s next to no direct interactions)

• the wrong number trope ends up happening -- luke and athena being their nicknames.

• chapter goal from beginning to end: 1 to 5

PART ONE: the getting-to-know-you (mostly via texts)

• essentially thinking that the other person is cute irl but believing that they have such a shitty personality that they would never want to date the other person (after seeing their interactions with their friends -- lucas being blunt and dropping the customer service smile around cabel, athy ranting to helena about what would sound like dumb shit to him)

• helena catches feelings for lucas. cabel also catches feelings for athy. athy helping helena get a date with lucas. lucas decides to try and get cabel a date. it goes exactly as one would expect -- not well.

• there’s a huge misunderstanding, and eventually cabel and helena end up accidentally going on a date together. they realize that they’ve got a lot in common and decide to give it a try

• tl;dr, the “attempted wingman” arc

• athy probably gets her wisdom tooth removal at the beginning of this arc

• the “haha me liking him/her? that’s dumb” portion

• chapter goal: 6 to 15

PART TWO: the friendship portion!!!

• as in. lucas and athy end up becoming proper friends irl instead of the impersonal acquaintanceship.

• i want lucas to have some major family drama going on. like a “i need someone to be my plus 1 for my older brother’s wedding and my grandma’s been constantly trying to matchmake me with every eligible girl my age -- basically, be my matchmaker repellent” type of drama not drama-drama being in something sob-worthy

• note: he does not ask athanasia, he complains to her about it through their text convos by mentioning that his brother’s getting married and his grandma wanting to pair him off with a family friend’s daughter, but he doesn’t ask her to help him whether irl or through the screen and its only mentioned as a minor thing (foreshadowing, basically)

• another note: the wedding would not happen asap, rather his brother’s engagement and marriage is essentially going to be setup in this part of the story. its more of a matter of lucas needing to repel his grandma’s matchmaking attempts. it’ll be a “in the next couple of months” and will most likely be happening in part 4 of this outline

• lucas and athy end up catching feelings for each other. as in their minor attraction from part 1 returns to slap them in the face. they agonize over this with their “wrong number buddy” (who just so happen to be the crush in question)

• the “i kinda wanna hold their hand” to “fuck fuck fuck fuck i wanna hold their hand fuck”

• chapter goal: 16 to 29

PART THREE: the pining

• suffer with me

• there’s essentially the mIb love square as lithium called out. at one point they’ll be talking about maybe doing a phone call one of these days (since one of them called by accident) and just nervous realization of “oh no i like this person AND my texting buddy”

• lucas asking athy if she’d be willing to be his plus one at his brother’s wedding -- his matchmaker repellent. we can turn it into a valentines thing, too so that it’ll be all the more ridiculous, because athy would think he’s about to ask her to be his girlfriend, so she just keeps nodding until she hears the question of her being his plus one so that he’d have a friend that could help him put an end to all the matchmaking attempts. plus, he can’t ask cabel to help him out because then that would invite granny hwang’s attempt to push eligible bachelors at him instead

• athy was 100% not amused to hear that she wasn’t even his first, second, or third choice. but she’s pining and begrudgingly agrees to help him out

• little did she know that she WAS his first choice, it’s just that he didn’t Ask her until everyone else was a definite no. she’s also his last choice because if lucas was desperate enough he would’ve deadass asked his texting buddy

• helena will Probably try to set athy up on a blind date, but since it takes place at the coffee shop/cafe lucas works at, he essentially helps athy out when they realize that helena unintentionally agreed to set her up with her EX???? idk yet except that they’re not really Friends, but regardless lucas manages to help her. it’s kiel who’s the blind date btw

• the one-sided athykiel -- essentially ezekiel establishing that he likes athy. athy mentions him to lucas in their text convos by mentioning that she’s pretty sure he likes her but she’s just Not into him like that

• the “it’s fine we’re friends and friends hold hands and they hug all the time so it wouldn’t be strange right” reassurances

• chapter goal: 30 to 56

PART FOUR: the panicking

• they have their first phone call :’)

• lucathy simping for the other person’s voice and lowkey thinking “wow they sound so familiar haha” and more or less going “you have a really nice voice if you did audiobooks i’d buy them just to hear your voice”

• idk what the fuck’s gonna happen by chapter 100, but its going to be when they FINALLY get a clue that they might have mutual feelings and hold hands and it’s very obvious (to everyone) that they’re into each other

• there’s gonna be the wedding for lucas’s older brother with athy as lucas’s plus one. lucas is from a prominent and rich family, so a lot of his family’s business associates are invited to the wedding. cabel’s family shows up, cause cabel’s older brother is a businessman; cabel is lucas’s childhood friend btw

• so after the family drama that lucas has with his family prior to part four dies down, it’s athy’s turn of familial drama :)

• in the fact that claude shows up to the part and he’s just. “diana???” and athy, having grown up in a single parent household that consists of her and her mom, is surprise pikachu face like “you know my mom?”

• so athy’s familial drama is essentially a “holy shit my dad’s a multibillionaire bachelor and my mom never told me until AFTER i met him”. cue the whole awkward “fuck,,, guys my dad wants to marry my mom after finally finding her thanks to me and my mom still loves him and im so fucking confused because this whole time i thought mom left him cause he was a piece of shit but it turns out that it was because my mom thought he deserved someone better than a part-time dance instructor and now everything i thought i knew is Shattered”

• yeah i didn’t want anything too angsty with athy’s family drama. so i decided to give it a cinderella kinda vibe. like the prince at the ball (claude attending the wedding) and finding cinderella’s shoe (athy being the shoe) that leads him to cinderella (finding diana). i was gonna make a joke about it being like cinderella but then i ended up making That connection tbh

• also, at the wedding lucas planned on telling her that he realized that she’s been his texting buddy, but then claude interrupted them because he was pretty sure that athy is his daughter

• it’s the “what does this mean does that mean they like me back or???” (mostly panic on athy’s side) of the story, but it’s also the “fuck man i’ve got shit going on with my family that i don’t know if i can even Think about romance”

• chapter goal: 57 to 100

PART FIVE: the adjustment period

• athy essentially dealing with the fact that her entire life she thought her dad was a dirtbag but it turns out that it was all a misunderstanding so she’s trying to learn how to get along with the guy

• meeting her cousin jennette who’s all “!!!!!!! i have a cousin that’s almost a year younger than me!!!” and wants to get along with athy. she’s trying to see if jennette’s being genuine or not (spoilers: she is)

• also lucas manages to FINALLY tell athy that he thinks that she’s his texting buddy. and it’s that awkward relief that the person they like is the same person. although now lucas thinks that athy has a crush on a coworker of his or something while athy thinks that lucas is interested in a customer of his

• despite both of them being genuises. helena has the shared brain cell and she’s crying at the level of misunderstandings that’s going on when athy tells her about her crush on lucas and her adamant belief that he’s crushing on a customer

• cabel not so subtly trying to figure out who lucas likes -- it’s obvious to helena who highkey thinks lucathy is definitely gonna happen and will Definitely win the lucathy betting pool against lucas’s older brother, but cabel’s like “idk though athy doesn’t seem like his type”

• claude and diana deciding to get married; felix being claude’s best man, lillian being diana’s maid of honor, with athy taking part in the overall wedding planning

• during the wedding planning process for claudiana, athy is just looking at all these pictures and thinking “getting married,,,,, actually sounds kinda nice” and that comment more or less ends up slipping out while she’s sitting on the sofa at lucas’s apartment while looking through wedding pictures. and lucas just. freezes, staring at athy as she’s staring at her screen.

• lucas making a bet with her courtesy of Last Game (not gonna be the same words as yanagi since athy is Very much aware of social cues unlike kujou, but lucas WILL say “then i’ll be putting a ring on your finger” or something along the lines)

• chapter goal: 100 to 150

PART SIX: FINALLY TOGETHER

• i don’t know i really don’t know i just want them to finally get together by part six because if i keep delaying it in this outline i really might go insane the more slow burn i add to it

• wedding #2 except this time its claudiana getting married. they wanted to get married asap, but claude and athy both agreed that it would be worth it to see diana in a wedding dress because they both simp for her

• athy’s plus one is lucas since they both agreed to be each other’s emergency plus one after his brother’s wedding since. they’re both from prominent families so they want to avoid shit

• everyone’s asking lucathy if they have plans on getting married (a lot of claude’s wedding guests assume that athy’s dating lucas and lowkey wants to know if their sons or daughters have a chance)

• this is where the fake dating Really kickstarts which makes athy feel immensely guilty cause she’s lying to her mom tbh but lucas just swoops in and smoothly answers that it’s only natural that he intends on one day marrying athy and they’re pretty much #relationship goals despite not actually dating

• which is probably when she realizes that he Did mention something about marriage during their bet since his win meant that he’d be putting a ring on her finger

• only reason why claude hasn’t tried to lowkey murder lucas is cause it’s athy’s decision on who she dates and loves, but he Will murder lucas if he ever breaks her heart -- which, luckily for everyone, he hasn’t and won’t be

• especially cause lucas and athy Do start actually dating after claudiana’s wedding (because they end up talking because athy really stopped to think “holy shit am i the person that you like???” and cue lucas going “thanks for stating the obvious -- btw i won the bet” so guess who’s boyfriend/girlfriend but are Also technically fiance/es via bet)

• i am going to cry when lucathy are finally dating

• chapter goal: 151 to 178

CONCLUSION: lovey-dovey fluff

• it’s. as the title indicates. fluff. lovey-dovey pure fluff

• athy moving into lucas’s apartment. athy wearing his sweaters and clothes. matching scarves. athy “accidentally” leaving a lipstick mark on his cheek or lips idk yet but it’ll happen

• ring pop proposal ft. drunk athy. lucas ends up snickering and will ruthlessly tease athy over it, especially since cabel drunkenly got it all on camera and bawled over how “beautiful” it was. lucas said yes btw, and then a drunken helena started crying over it too repeating “he said Yes!!!!”

• then a proper lucathy proposal (although technically athy already gave lucas a ring and lucas already said he’d put a ring on her finger if he won the bet). it’s annoyingly casual for athy’s tastes, and if anyone ever asks how the proposal had gone, there will ALWAYS be a completely different story (“she proposed to me with a ring pop while she was drunk” or “he proposed via a bet before we were even dating” or “he proposed to me when we were having dinner and i choked on my cake” or “she thought i was joking about buying her a ring, but then i actually knelt down on one knee and proposed to her at the cafe when i was still on the clock” “i proposed to him after he made me dinner because of how good his cooking is”). all of it is true and valid, but Nobody knows and everyone thinks that they’re just joking around until the lucathy wedding invitation arrives in the mail a few months later

• maybe a lucathy wedding will be written cause i hate myself and want to make the chapter goal a nice round 200 and you know what they say -- 3rd time’s the charm

• do i want claude and diana to give athy a younger brother that would, undoubtedly, be like almost 21-22 years of an age difference between athy and the lil bro. i did the calculations guys, since in this au diana was 18 (claude was 17-18) when she gave birth to athy, and since athy is 21-22 in the present day, that means diana is 39 years old. it’s still very much a possibility for her to get pregnant and have another kid

• chapter goal: 179 to 200

i planned on posting this earlier, but i guess its an early valentines day post now LMAO

#lucathy #starlit rambles #ideas for the wyn #//long post #wmmap ideas #im not sleep deprived atm because ive been adding to this post over the course of 3 days #maybe 4-5 tbh #idk #where was this motivation to write an outline when i was still a student

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takoyakitenchou · 3 years

Text

masquerade ch.8

7? idk but this one isn’t on ff or ao3 yet i think

12:58 PM Nakiri Erina: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you free the day after tomorrow?

1:03 PM Yukihira Souma: how’d u get this #?

1:04 PM Nakiri Erina: Alice gave it to me.

1:04 PM Yukihira Souma: sup

1:05 PM Nakiri Erina: I’m opening Kiralyno Haza. It’s not like I want you to show up or anything.

message opened

1:37 PM Nakiri Erina: Hello?

2:40 PM Yukihira Souma: hey sorry i just got on break. congrats nakiri!

2:41 PM Nakiri Erina: It was expected.

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: surprised it took you so long to open. hurry up and get your 3 stars bubs then we’ll really see who’s the better chef

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: and did you get tired of shinomiya or did he get tired of you?

2:42 PM Nakiri Erina: I got tired of him. Duh. Are you not coming?

2:42 PM Yukihira Souma: save 4 seats for me. i’ll be a balloon by the time im done w your food also i hope you have enough ingredients for a shokugeki after

“Ugh. You’re as shit at texting as ever,” Erina groaned, throwing down her phone, but then she picked it up again to stare at those four particular characters. Bubs. God, it had been so long since she’d seen that in her messages.

(under the cut to see souma and erina start to get their shit together lol)

To think that she had been the one to break the radio silence between them — good lord, that was fucking annoying. It was weird to think about. There had been plenty of opportunities for them to talk again, and yet they’d somehow managed to evade each other since they’d run into each other at Nakiri Mansion. Whether this was coincidence she had no idea, but Souma hadn’t been at the official Totsuki-sponsored 92nd gen alumni reunion, and Shinomiya had dragged Erina to some culinary conference that made her miss the freshman training camp where Souma threatened the living shits out of the poor first years but ended up not cutting anybody from the roster.

Erina had done her best not to linger on the fact that she had had to ask Alice for Souma’s new number, but goddamn would that remain at the forefront of her mind for the week following Kiralyno Haza’s debut until she got frustrated enough to the point where she damn near chucked her own phone out the window.

It was thanks to Alice that her condo was still in one piece.

The COO of the Nakiri-Totsuki Group was sitting next to her at a bar in Budapest, helping herself to her third shot of tequila, a few empty glasses and a growing tab between them. “Yukihira’s coming?”

Erina nodded, smiling despite herself. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

Taking sudden interest in her drink, Alice remained silent for a thoughtful moment before she said, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you two broke up.”

With a half-hearted huff, Erina scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Alice gave her a long look. “I’m not kidding, Erina. Who was that other guy you were seeing? Darren?”

“Aaron. Darren was before him.”

“Doesn’t he have a 3000-seater concert hall named after him?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Erina said, and Alice knew it was 593% true.

Whenever tolerating a guy got tedious, Erina had extinguished whatever spark he thought he had ignited, pretended to be hung up on it, and started over, systematically breaking hearts left and right, all the while building titanium defenses around her own.

And then, a year and half ago, she’d seen Yukihira Souma at Nakiri Mansion, and everything had changed.

So. Much. Pining. Alice was more than a few years past sick of how long those two idiots were dragging their shit out.

Erina picked up her belongings. “We should probably stop day-drinking.”

“Sure,” Alice said, paying the tab before Erina could get her wallet out.

“I’ll pay you back for that,” Erina promised as they left the bar.

Alice put a hand on Erina’s shoulder. “You can pay me back by not fucking up your confession again.”

At this, Erina frowned. A withering counter should’ve been second nature, but she found herself incapable. She wanted to believe that whatever piece of her heart that had clung to the hope that Yukihira Souma would come back to her was nothing more than a memory. More than anything, she wished the voice at the back of her head telling her to move on and forget him and their past would finally win out, because there were people in her present waiting for her, and it would be a sin to ignore that.

But she couldn’t say the words; her heart belonged to Yukihira Souma — would always belong to him — and all broken promises and relationships notwithstanding, that was something she could not deny.

Although Souma technically hadn’t been invited to the kitchen for shift drinks when the front doors closed, he had taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of cab sauv that he and Erina finished in like ten seconds flat, to hell with sharing with staff, family, and friends.

The second she felt the words wanna come over? slip out of her atmosphere-drunk mouth, she knew it was going to take more self-control than she had not to demand he stay with her forever.

“So, Yukihira,” she said like they hadn’t been catching up for the last two hours when they were sitting on the couch in her living room with pinot noir. “How’ve you been?”

The corners of Souma’s lips twitched. “Not bad,” he replied. “Mostly cooking. A few interviews and shit. I’ve been keeping up with all your stuff, by the way. Three tastings in twelve hours next Monday seems like too much, Nakiri.”

Erina frowned. “Even if you were as talented a stalker as Mimasaka Subaru, how the fuck would you know that?”

He held up his phone. “You were signed into my calendar app when I last downloaded a backup copy four years ago. So every time I get a new phone, I transfer all the old data.”

Erina stared at him, horrified. “Holy shit. You’ve seen everything?”

Shrugging, Souma said, “Not everything. Just… your dates with Darren. And Aaron. Also, I knew about Kiralyno opening before you texted me so I’d already cleared out my schedule by then.”

Erina had stopped listening halfway through. “Wait, Yukihira…”

“It’s okay, Nakiri.” Souma waved it off. “You’re here with me now. All that matters. Let’s not look too far into our past, yeah?”

“Don’t look into my future either, idiot! Sign out of my Google calendar right now!”

Souma shook his head seriously. “Sorry, Nakiri, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why the fuck not?”

He gazed at her intently and rested his chin on his fist. “I need to make sure I’ll still be in it.”

Erina rolled her eyes. “Don’t say sappy shit like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What if I just stayed?” he asked.

She sighed. “I think the question is, would I even let you? I thought we’re putting the past behind us? Don’t you want this back?” She pointed at the white cloth she was wearing on her wrist. His white cloth.

Souma ignored the second question and pulled Erina to him by her waist, close enough that she could feel his warm breath as he spoke, forehead brushing hers. “Another thing we both know is that you and I could never be just friends.”

“Take your hands off me or I swear I’m either going to spill my wine or kiss you, and I seriously do not care which.”

He leaned back with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t let me stay, would you, Nakiri?”

“I couldn’t,” she said helplessly. “We don’t even know where our lines are.”

“Do we need lines?” Souma asked, finishing his glass and balancing it on his knee. “You and I are beyond this dimension.”

Erina stared at him, memorizing every last square centimeter of his features — the way his hair seemed to get shorter every time they met until he somewhat resembled someone of his culinary pedigree; the way the creases formed on his sleeves along the contours of his toned arms.

“You know, Nakiri, if you let me stay, you wouldn’t have to stare so much.”

She tore her gaze from his collarbone, her whole face turning red. In all her twenty-one years, that had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life. “Shut up! I’m not staring!”

He was watching her with wistful eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if you were…”

And they both heard it.

I wouldn’t mind if you were mine.

#shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no souma #sorina #soueri #yukihira soma #yukihira souma #nakiri erina #CANT BELIEVE THEYRE FINALLY GETTING THEIR SHIT TOGETHER #oh wait #im the one writing this

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vanillabutspicy · 3 years

Note

Happy FFWF! When you're writing, do you work on one piece at a time or do you keep several wips open at once and flit between them? Can you give a sneak preview of something you're currently working on? It can just be a quote, or you can give more context--whatever you feel like :)

hotwife you know the answer to this LOL I have like 5 wips right now that I've been jumping between all summer. My browser window has a tab group called wips and it's just all my google docs that I have in progress.

Ummm as for a sneak-peek, hmmMMMMm I really don't know. I will say though that you made me go into my Lion Turtle chapter 3 doc and I actually teased out part of a conversation that I'd been avoiding for a few weeks. YES THAT'S RIGHT I know it's been like 6 months but I still have not abandoned it I swear on my life I will complete the story.

Ok so I guess I'll share this part from chapter 3 of Lion Turtle because I don't know if it will make the cut. It's not entirely necessary and doesn't really contribute to the story, but I felt like writing it because I thought it was sweet. This is from Hakoda's perspective:

With that, he was outside again, crossing the clearing toward the back of the dining hall. He found the opening to the path easily and set off on his way, spotting Appa overhead before lush greenery obscured the sky above him. It was a short and pleasant walk, the path winding ever so slightly to allow for the most shade and the best views of wildflowers along the way. He came to the path’s fork and spotted five air acolytes in the distance walking toward him from the beach, four of them carrying blue windsocks on high poles, and the last with a kite in hand. He waved against the gentle sea breeze and carried on toward the cottage, knowing they’d catch up soon. The modest dwelling shimmered in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the trees. If he had any reservations about the kind of partner Aang would be for his daughter, they would have evaporated by then. Sure, the gestures he’d seen from Aang so far were remarkable; the boy made an impressive betrothal necklace, and Hakoda knew the wedding ceremony would nod to both of their cultures, so he certainly respected Aang already. But Hakoda wondered if Aang knew that marriage in the Southern Water Tribe was less of a ceremony and more of a simple fact of life; partners were married when they moved in together, took care of each other, and declared themselves married. Kya would have said that it didn’t matter if he knew. She would have thought it almost sweeter if he didn’t. But it wasn’t merely that Aang had somehow abided Hakoda’s traditions. In truth, his protective heart felt the most reassurance from the small, mundane delights of the environment Aang had carved out of the island for Katara, right down to the heart-shaped step outside the door. He knocked.

#ffwf #happy ffwf!#lion turtle fic #I will complete this story if it kills me

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

love bites | ksj

*written for the FWL luv library project*

⇥ pairing: kim seokjin x reader

⇥ genre: non-idol au, co-workers to lovers, smut, fluff

⇥ summary: you’re stuck working the evening shift on valentine’s day at bangtan bistro. as the city’s most expensive and exclusive restaurant, the bistro draws in couples both old and new with partners looking to propose or to impress. your tolerance for PDA and cringey lovebirds has never been lower. throw a flirty chef into the mix and you’re in for a bumpy ride that might just conclude with a happy ending.

⇥ word count: 5.4k

⇥ warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, bad puns from jin, numerous health-code violations (from fraternizing all up in that kitchen), oral (m + f receiving), protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it, folks), workplace romance, threats of violence from yoongi

⇥ beta'd by the amazing @shadowsremedy (thank you, heath! could not have done this without you, your feedback, and your general support!)

“Will you marry me?”

I screech to a halt, completely astounded at the goddamned audacity of the man kneeling before me. Did he really just ask that? At a time like this?

I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I try not to outwardly show my disgust over the scene unfolding before my very eyes.

“Oh my god, Chad!” The date of this Chad finally launches herself from her seat and into his arms, “Yes!”

The restaurant breaks into applause. My forehead breaks into a sweat.

My left arm feels like it might snap at any moment under the weight of the tray of food that I’m meant to be serving this goddamn theatrical couple. The thought of quitting crosses my mind for the umpteenth time that evening.

A camera flash temporarily stuns me, and I feel a tiny twinge of satisfaction. My looming presence in that commemorative photo will hopefully be a reminder to let servers do their damn job before launching into a whole ordeal.

God, I must have been off my fucking rocker when I agreed to work the Valentine’s Day dinner shift. At least the tip money would be worth it.

Gritting my teeth, I flash my best fake smile and offer words of congratulations to the sniffling couple who finally reclaimed their seats.

“Enjoy your meal,” my mouth says with a smile.

“I wish I could sear you like that filet mignon you ordered, Chad,” my glare says with promise.

Thirty seconds later, I’m in full whisper-rant mode at the corner server station. My friend and fellow server Tabby half-listens as she punches in an order at the kiosk.

“And then this Chad in his fucking khaki suit flails to the ground to pop the question like he didn’t see me walking towards them with all seven entrees they ordered. So then I’m stuck hovering over their table with a giant-ass tray of food while they cry and hug and kiss until, finally, finally, they park it back in their seats so I can serve them.”

I groan, hitting my head against the wall, “What did I do in a past life to deserve this?”

“Kill someone, probably,” a voice pipes up from behind the station’s kitchen window, “Oh wait, you would do that in this life, too.”

Kim Seokjin, head chef of Bangtan Bistro and my partial employer, is leaning over the window’s counter, eyes full of mischief as he watches me.

“Oh, what’s this? Are you volunteering to be my very first victim?” I mirror his position leaning over the window’s counter and give him my best side-eye, “I’ll send you my application for victims on Google Docs.”

“Sounds kinky,” Seokjin grins, “Count me in. My Gmail username is Hugh Chefner. No capitals or spaces.”

“I despise you,” I say biting back a smile.

“You lo-o-ove me!” He sings, heading back into the depths of the hectic kitchen.

And, unfortunately, he’s right. Damn Kim Seokjin and his insane level of gorgeousness, charisma, and dramatics.

Against my better judgment, Seokjin has shimmied his chaotic self right into my well-guarded heart. Despite all of the prickliness my typical demeanor displays, I can’t help but melt under the warm gaze of such a handsome man.

Seokjin is the first person that has ever been able to pique my interest lately and keep it. Yes, it might have something to do with his extreme attractiveness; but, it more-so has everything to do with his genuine kindness and weird sense of humor.

Shit, I’ve gone soft. If we’re arguing Nature vs. Nurture here, this is totally Nurture’s fault.

Bangtan Bistro is co-owned by seven men - each as fine as the next. Being surrounded by good-looking and kind-hearted men day in and day out will definitely fuck with your brain, your body, and eventually even your fucking heart.

Kim Namjoon, a tall, dimpled sweetheart of a man, acts as general manager. Namjoon typically resides in the back office of the restaurant running numbers and going over other business ventures. He used to frequent the front of the restaurant to check on customers, but Jimin has since banned him from that activity after the infamous Spaghetti Incident of 2019.

Park Jimin, as the overseer of staff and servers, commands the restaurant floor with a crinkly-eyed smile and a ferocious temper. Fortunately for his direct subordinates (READ: me), his temper is most likely to be focused on rude customers and his messy business partners. Jimin honestly is the ideal boss because he has our backs and will never hesitate to help anyone out.

Late one Saturday evening, a man refused to leave the restaurant after being cut off from his bar tab. Jimin full-on squared up with him in defense of the poor server who had to break the news to the drunk patron. Luckily, the Bistro’s head of security, Jeon Jungkook, took over before Jimin actually popped off.

Jungkook, as the youngest partner, is shockingly tall and muscular. He definitely provides the intimidation needed for those types of escalating incidents. Despite his tough exterior, Jungkook is a complete softie.

I once caught Jungkook in the kitchen after close attempting to make cookies for a girl he had a crush on. I walked in to see Jungkook standing over a tray of the unidentifiable charred monstrosities and pouting in the most ridiculous way. Needless to say, I helped him bake a new batch with the oven not turned up to 500 degrees so that “they would cook faster”.

Min Yoongi had found the pair of us bickering and had just rolled his eyes and scooped a mouthful of raw cookie dough. As the head bartender, Yoongi is the absolute best at mixing drinks and the absolute worst at customer service. I swear the man gets far too much pleasure from getting people thrown out. He’s also notorious for watering down the drinks of customers he doesn’t like. He’s petty like that. I live for it.

Once, Jung Hoseok tried to take a picture of Yoongi for the restaurant’s website, and Yoongi threatened to shove a sharpened cocktail umbrella through Hoseok’s eye. I had never seen the Bistro’s head of marketing and resident sunshine flee so fast. Hoseok later ended up using an old picture of Yoongi in retaliation; rumor has it Yoongi is still plotting his revenge to this day.

Kim Taehyung often grumbles about how he’s going to be put out of a job since the restaurant naturally provides daily entertainment. As the head of entertainment and events, Taehyung helps to secure live music and special guests. He’s also the most handsome man I have ever seen - with the exception of one Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin, as head chef, is responsible for planning the seasonal menus, overseeing the kitchen staff, and preparing the more challenging dishes. He’s even taken it upon himself to be the resident comedian, which the other six partners vehemently and openly detest. Still, that backlash has not stopped him from naming each evening special with puns. His last Seokjin Special was called “Chicken Pot Bye Felicia”. It had resulted in Yoongi banning Seokjin from the restaurant for a full week. He still hasn’t dared to make another pun, but I can tell it will only be a matter of time.

Basically, Seokjin is an entirely goofy and beautiful mess of a human. Yet, I can’t stop myself from falling deeper and deeper into the trap that is loving someone outside of your league.

When I first arrived at the Bistro for my inaugural shift, I was greeted enthusiastically by Jimin, who I’d met previously in my interview. Jimin had introduced me to each of his partners - each as handsome as the last. Honestly, my eyes and nerves had been exhausted after meeting almost all of them. Then Jimin had ushered me into the kitchen.

“Hey, Jin-hyung!” Jimin had yelled over the cacophony of sizzling pans and murmured conversation. I had watched in awe as the hottest man I’ve ever seen entered my line of vision and stopped before me. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a face that could inspire priceless works of art with full pink lips, high cheekbones, and devilish dark eyes.

“You summoned me, Jiminie?” The man had laughed in a slightly squeaky manner before he noticed my presence, “Ah, who might this be?”

I had cleared my throat in hopes that my voice wouldn’t crack under the sheer weight of this man’s attractiveness, “Hi, I’m (y/n). I’m starting today as a server.” and thrust my hand out with a shy smile.

He had blinked. Slowly, a smirk eased onto his face as he grabbed my hand. Instead of shaking it, he had brought it to his lips. “A pleasure. I’m Seokjin,” he had murmured, lips brushing against my knuckles. My cheeks had felt like they were on fire as Jimin screeched at Seokjin for harassing me.

“It’s her first day, Jin! Lay off the theatrics,” Jimin had turned to me, “Sorry about him, (y/n). He’s a desperate flirt.”

“Desperate? Me?” Seokjin gasped, “Worldwide Handsome does not do desperate.”

“Did you just refer to yourself as ‘Worldwide Handsome’?” I had gaped at his open arrogance.

Seokjin proudly had puffed up his chest, “Yes. What else could I possibly be called?”

“Well, definitely not Worldwide Humble,” My mouth had said before my brain caught up.

The room had seemed to pause before Jimin erupted in peals of laughter as Seokjin spluttered, “Yah, Jiminie, you can’t let her talk to me like that!”

Still laughing, Jimin had choked out, “(y/n), you officially have a job here until you die.”

Ever since that first encounter, Seokjin and I have established a working relationship based on banter or what Tabby refers to as ‘flirting’. I refuse to believe that ridiculous notion.

Tabby finally finishes entering her order into the kiosk and turns to me, “So, any hot plans for tonight?” Her eyebrows wiggle up and down suggestively.

“Does solo Netflix and chill count as hot plans?” I deadpan as I peer around the server station divider to covertly check on my tables. I lock eyes on Chad and his fiancé, who already seem to be arguing, and I make an executive decision to not go check how their meal is going.

“No!” Tabby’s whisper-yell commands my attention, “That definitely does not count, (y/n). Why didn’t you find someone on Tinder? I even made you that bomb-ass profile.”

I pointedly look everywhere but at her.

“You deleted the app, didn’t you,” she glares at me, arms folded, “I slaved over that profile! There were only so many tasteful cleavage shots of my best friend that I could stomach in one sitting!”

“What the fuck, Tabby! Since when do I have any—”

“Tasteful cleavage shots?” Seokjin’s elated voice practically shouts from the kitchen, “Let me at ‘em.”

His hands launch towards us through the kitchen window and make grabbing motions.

“Seokjin,” I tsk mockingly, “Are you trying to grab my tits again?”

“Again?” Tabby cries, whirling on Seokjin, who looks at us in horror.

“I wasn’t! I swear! I just wanted to see the pictures! I didn’t want to grab your boobs…” He trails off, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not any more than usual, anyway’.

“Seokjin-hyung! (y/n)!” Jimin blazes into the service station, “I’ve had it up to here with your bickering. You’re both on closing duties tonight - alone.”

“What?” I exclaim as Tabby slinks away. Traitor. “We’re just joking with each other! Right, Seokjin?”

Jimin’s gaze swings from me to Seokjin, who is suddenly suspiciously calm. My eyes narrow. A silent conversation is definitely happening without my participation.

Finally, Seokjin just shrugs with a grin, “Sounds fair to me, Jiminie! (y/n) and I will work hard all night if we have to.”

“Fair?” I choke, “All night?”

Jimin, following Tabby’s lead, scurries away as my attention is diverted by Seokjin’s idiocy. “Scared to be alone with me, (y/n)?” Seokjin’s lips break into a sly smile, “Don’t worry, I don’t bite… much.”

With that parting remark, Seokjin winks at me and disappears back into the kitchen.

“Fuck me,” I breathe out. How would I survive this?

Five hours later, the last patron has been ushered out of the restaurant with the staff right on their heels. I curse as Yoongi waltzes out the door, fanning himself with a crisp fifty-dollar bill and winking obnoxiously. “Have fun!” He cackles, locking the restaurant doors behind him.

“No, please don’t offer to stay and help,” I grumble, sweeping stray pieces of lettuce out from under a table, “I am more than happy to stay here until the ass-crack of dawn with the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.”

“The biggest, huh?” The voice chuckles right in my ear, “How did you know?”

“Goddamnit, Seokjin!” I slap a hand to my heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you oaf!”

Whirling to face him, I stutter to a halt. He’s taken off his heavy chef’s coat and is now left in a tight black t-shirt that clings to his body in a manner that has to be illegal.

I swallow hard, and for a split second, I swear Seokjin’s gaze latches onto my throat.

“Is it hot in here?” I mutter distractedly, tugging at the collar of my stiff white button-down.

“Yes,” Seokjin practically purrs, “It’s scorching.”

Choosing not to acknowledge him, I spin on my heels, grabbing the full dustpan of debris I collected and head towards the back of the restaurant.

Emptying the dustpan in the trash, I walk over to the supply closet to return the broom. The restaurant floor is finished. Now, I just had to see how much of the kitchen Seokjin actually cleaned.

Pushing through the swinging doors of the kitchen, I screech to a halt as I’m faced with a complete and utter miracle.

“What in tarnation?” I gasp, taking in the pristine kitchen full of glistening stainless steel and sparkling countertops. “Kim Seokjin!” I yell, “You damn wizard! How the fuck did you clean everything this fast?”

“You could say I was motivated,” his reply sounds entirely too close. I spin to face him and gape as I notice the bouquet of red roses that he’s holding out to me.

Taking in my speechless appearance, Seokjin smiles smugly and opens his mouth to continue.

I cut him off, “Tell me those aren’t the roses from the fucking table centerpieces... I threw those in the trash, Seokjin!”

His ears turn an alarming shade of magenta, “Yah, just accept the gesture, (y/n)! This is peak romance, you know!”

“They are covered in filth, dude!” I squint, peering closer, “Is that a piece of spaghetti in there?”

Seokjin yeets the makeshift bouquet back into the garbage, “Why can’t you just appreciate my efforts?” He pouts excessively, “Don’t you like me?”

Red alert. Red alert, my mind whirs.

“Sure,” I let out a nervous laugh, “We’re friends. Of course, I like you.”

He steps towards me, “Sure, we’re friends, (y/n), but friends don’t usually want to fuck each other.”

That bitch said what now?

“Did you inhale too much Clorox?” I panic, “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” Thrusting three fingers in front of Seokjin’s amused face, I widen my eyes as he suddenly grabs my hand.

“Baby,” he says lowly, sending a delicious shiver down my spine, “If you keep being so adorable, I may just have to keep you.”

Well, shit, okay. “Say less,” I breathe and then immediately slam my mouth shut.

I receive a classic Seokjin grin in return for my idiocy, and my knees shake. Honestly, who the fuck allowed him to be that devastating?

Slowly, his grin slips away, and his eyes ignite with raw desire, “Tell me what you want from me, (y/n).”

My mind short circuits, automatically reverting to my default mode of sass, “Uh, peace and quiet?”

“Really?” Seokjin murmurs, stepping even closer still, “So you don’t want me to kiss you? You don’t want me to turn you over and fuck you until you scream?”

My breathing is ragged. His eyes burn with a hunger I had never seen before, and I’m crumbling.

“Answer me,” Jin demands, desperation seeped in each word, “Please.”

“Seokjin—” I gasp, dumbfounded, “Where the hell is this coming from? We’re coworkers! You’re my boss!”

His eyes flashed darkly as he moved his head closer to mine, “That’s all irrelevant, baby.”

“Irrelevant—!” I stab a finger into his firm chest, “Oh, you little shit, you can’t just say that you want to fuck me and then say that our working relationship is irrelevant! I could get fired. You could get fired!”

“That’s highly unlikely given the fact that everyone else knows my plans to ask you out right now.”

“Hold on a second,” I narrow my eyes, “Are you saying that you purposefully planned for us to stay late tonight to clean the entire goddamn restaurant just so you could ask me out? Are you fucking insane?”

“I prefer the term ‘quirky’,” he quips, “But, yeah, I may have paid everyone $50 to leave us alone for the night.”

“Well, that explains Yoongi… that shady motherfucker,” I internally make note to plot my vengeance. “Why couldn’t you have just slid in my DMs like a normal person, Seokjin?” I groan, “I would have responded to a ‘you up’ with a ‘yes, come over’.”

Seokjin whips out his cell phone. “Does this apply to right now?” he asks, typing furiously.

My phone dings with several Instagram notifications.

hughchefner: u up

hughchefner: wyd

hughchefner: date me?

(y/n): bet

Seokjin’s eyes shoot up to mine after he reads my response, “Really? You agreed to date me by saying ‘bet’ in an Instagram DM?”

“Yup,” I shrug, “No take-backs. Also, to answer your previous questions: Yes, I do want you to kiss me with your insufferable mouth, and, yes, I do want to sit on your dick. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Say less,” Seokjin echoes my earlier statement and captures my mouth with his. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

“(Y/n),” he groans right as my tongue swipes teasingly against his lower lip.

His hands slid down my body, pausing only to squeeze my waist gently before settling firmly on my ass. His fingers dig in hard and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan.

“You like that, baby? You like when I’m rough?” Seokjin pulls his lips off mine and murmurs sinfully, “God, I want to devour you.”

I lift my chin up and challenge, “Do it, you won’t.”

His eyes flare, “Oh, babygirl, you were made for me.” Seokjin’s lips return to mine, moving at a slow but ravenous pace.

Still kissing me, he picks me up and places me on one of the kitchen’s stainless steel counters. His hands grab my thighs, tugging them apart to make room for him to stand between them. A harsh groan rises from the depths of his chest as our bodies align.

I hook one leg around his waist and tug him closer still. Pulling my lips away, I lean my head back as I slowly trace his muscles through his shirt. He watches me with his puffy lips parted, his breathing hard. His eyes are wild and I’m loving every second of it.

The room suddenly feels too hot. My hands dart up to shakily begin undoing the buttons of my shirt. Seokjin’s eyes follow my movements with fascination. “Let me,” he purrs and proceeds to rip my shirt from my body. Buttons scatter on the floor with sorrowful little bounces.

“You bitch,” I yank his hair, “That was my good work shirt.”

“I’ll buy you ten more,” Seokjin’s voice is rough and full of desire as he takes in my lacy white bra. Suddenly, his mouth descends to suck at my nipple through the thin lace.

“Damn, you are so fucking sexy,” he pulls his mouth away, “Can I take this off?”

I nod like a bobblehead in 60mph winds, reaching around my back with one hand to undo the clasp and then throwing my bra clear across the kitchen. It lands on top of one of the fridges and I shrug. I’d retrieve it later.

Seokjin tugs off his own shirt, revealing planes of tanned skin. I don’t hesitate to run my hands up and down the definition of his abs and watch in fascination as his muscles constrict under my touch. I run my hands lower, tracing his defined v-line.

No wonder they call it the Adonis belt, I muse, pondering if he’d let me lick it.

Huffing in impatience at my slow exploration, Seokjin returns his mouth to my nipple and sucks hard. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. He bites down gently and then blows on my nipple slowly. I moan at the sensation. I watch him through unfocused eyes as his hand slides down the front of my body. He reaches the button of my pants and pauses.

Seokjin pulls his mouth away from my nipple, his lips swollen and pink. “You have to say yes, baby.” His breath hits my ear, making me shiver.

I hold out my hand for a high-five and declare, “We stan a man who asks for clear consent.” Chuckling, Seokjin slaps my offered hand and then links his fingers with mine.

“Also,” I continue, looking into his eyes, “It’s a fuck yes.” I pull our linked fingers close to place a kiss on his knuckles.

“Cute,” he grins, “Now, can I take off your pants?”

“Take off yours first,” I order.

“So eager,” he laughs, making quick work of his black jeans. My mouth instantly waters at the sight of his hard cock straining to be released from the confines of his bright red Versace boxer briefs.

“Why am I not surprised that even your underwear is extra?” I mumble, flicking the button of my pants open.

Laughing, Seokjin takes over, tugging my pants down my legs. He then pushes my matching white lace panties aside and cups my pussy, applying pressure. I roll my hips into his hand.

His fingers trace lightly up and down my pussy, before one dips inside me. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans.

“Always,” I breathe out. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from me. I pout. Seokjin laughs at my expression and then licks his finger.

“Jesus fuck, (y/n), you taste so sweet. Let me eat you out,” he pleads.

I smirk, saying, “I thought you’d never ask,” and then gasp as he kneels before me, grabbing my hips. Seokjin moves to tear my underwear off, and I’m quick to place my foot on his forehead to stop his approach. “I swear to god, Seokjin, if you rip these, I will get Namjoon to permanently ban Seokjin Specials.”

“You’re evil,” he grins, “I love it.” He makes a show of slowly taking my panties off before throwing them carelessly behind him. He then yanks the same leg I had used to thwart his panty-tearing plans and throws it over his shoulder before returning his fingers to my pussy. Seokjin’s thumb circles my clit while two of his fingers thrust into me at a maddening rate.

My fingers grip his hair when I finally feel his tongue licking up the juices that have started to run down my thighs.

After sucking what will probably become a massive hickey onto my left inner thigh, his tongue licks a path straight up my folds until it circles around my clit maddeningly. “Goddamnit, Seokjin, stop teasing,” my voice cracks in desperation, but my plea works. His tongue flicks at my clit lightly before his lips close over it and suck.

“Fuck,” I moan, “I think I like you eating me out more than I like eating your cooking.”

He pulls back to briefly land a light swat on my pussy and I choke on air as painful pleasure shoots through me. “Take that back,” he growls, “My cooking is second only to my handsome face.”

“God, I fucking hate you,” I drawl. The emphasis in my words portrays the exact opposite.

Seokjin sends me a shit-eating grin before his tongue returns to lick at my swollen clit, up and down, and then in a slow circle. His fingers brush open my folds just enough for him to sink his tongue into me. “O-oh,” I throw my head back, one hand moving up to pinch one of my nipples while the other latches back into Seokjin’s hair.

“I’m s-so close, baby,” my words slur as I shamelessly beg, “Don’t stop.”

He immediately pulls away.

“Oh, fuck you,” I seethe. I yank his head back by his hair until his neck is stretched in a long line. His hair is a mess, and I’ve never seen anything hotter.

“I just want to feel you come when I’m inside you, baby,” he smiles, my wetness glistening on his lips.

“Fine,” I shimmy off of the counter onto shaky legs, “Two can play at that game.”

“What?” Seokjin’s brows furrow in confusion.

It’s my turn to drop to my knees. “Oh, shit,” he curses as I tug his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. It’s silky and gorgeous, and I can’t stop staring at it. Seokjin, of course, notices. “You like my cock, babygirl? Take it. It’s yours.”

It already was, I think, as my gaze darts up to meet his.

Without breaking eye contact, I lick his reddened tip, almost moaning at his taste. “Fuck, babygirl,” Seokjin throws his head back. I smile wickedly. I could definitely get addicted to ruining this beautiful boy. “Look at me,” I command, feeling so powerful when he immediately listens.

Slowly, I suck down on his length, hollowing out my cheeks. My eyes stay on his as he groans, and I can tell he’s straining to keep from thrusting into my mouth.

“Please, baby, fuck—!” He moans as I swallow around him and then release him from my mouth with a pop. My hand darts up to grip him tightly, pumping him. Moving slowly, I suck one of his balls into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it gently. Seokjin chokes, “Fuck me.”

“We’ll get there, baby,” I tug my mouth away and grin up at him.

I suck him as far down as I can. His control snaps and he begins to thrust wildly into my mouth, panting.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” his eyes scrunch up as he chants, “I’m gonna come.”

I release him ruthlessly.

“Goddamnit,” he cries, “I knew that was coming, but it still hurts.”

“Well,” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, “If only you had a pretty little pussy ready for you to fuck… Oh, wait.”

Seokjin chuckles, “I see I wasn’t able to fuck some of the sass out of that mouth. We might have to try that again later.”

“Gladly,” I grin back at him, “You have a condom?”

Seokjin picks up his discarded jeans from the floor and digs around in the back pockets. “Aha!” He yells, hoisting up the glimmering gold foil in triumph.

I roll my eyes before snatching the condom from the idiot. Tearing the foil packaging open with my teeth, I grab Seokjin’s length and pump him a few times in preparation.

“Stop being a tease,” he mumbles, thrusting shallowly into my hand.

“Stop being so hot,” I challenge, leaning down to lick his pre-cum dripping from the reddened tip of his cock.

“Impossible,” Seokjin smirks before tugging me back up to face him.

He drops his lips to mine and sucks on my bottom lip. Pulling away slightly, he tugs at it in a stinging bite. Withdrawing his mouth from mine, he spins me around and bends me over the counter.

I feel the head of his cock running teasingly over the folds of my pussy and I gasp, “Please, baby, I need you inside me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He thrusts into me in one sharp movement. We both gasp as he fills me, gliding in and out.

“Harder,” I moan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I’m trying to last over here.”

“Why? We have all night,” I pout before an idea pops into my head, and I taunt, “Wait, are you telling me you’re a one and done type of old man?”

“Oh, you’re going to regret that,” Seokjin mutters darkly.

His hard cock fills and stretches me, pleasure emanating within me from every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Your pussy is mine,” he growls, “I’ll fuck you from against the wall after this. I’ll fuck you until you can’t sass me anymore. And I’ll fuck you all night, baby, and every night after that.”

I clench around him as his dirty words wash over me. “Those are all great ideas in theory,” I gasp out, “But I really want to ride you first.”

“Oh, babygirl wants to fuck herself on my cock?” Seokjin slaps my ass before pulling out, “Well, come on.”

I stand upright and turn to see him walking towards the large island in the middle of the room. He hops onto it and lays down, placing one arm behind his head, and the other one slowly strokes his cock.

“You better get that hand off your cock before I decide to never let you into my pussy again,” I say darkly as I move towards him.

His hand flies off his dick at the speed of light, his eyes wide as they focus on me.

When I get close enough, I climb up onto the island and kneel with one leg on each side of his tapered waist. I slowly sink down so that just his tip is inside me and squeeze.

A garbled moan escapes Seokjin, his hands shooting out to grab my waist in an attempt to push me down further.

“Someone’s eager,” I whisper, bending down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’ve been fucking eager since you were hired.” He smacks my ass and then groans as I reflexively sink down another inch.

“Yeah?” I question, sinking down another inch as his eyes squeeze shut, “You should have said something sooner, baby. I could have been riding you hard for months.”

Seokjin pouts, “Well, there’s no time like the present?”

“God, you’re such a dweeb,” I grin before taking him to the hilt. We both let out strangled breaths as I shift slightly, before placing a hand on his neck.

Keeping my hand there, I lift up and begin riding him hard. My body slides up and down onto his cock at a fast pace. Sweat drips down my back. Seokjin grabs my ass, his fingers gripping my skin, and pounds up into my pussy with brutal and possessive force.

“O-oh, fuck.” There’s something about riding Seokjin that just feels so good. My hips swivel and roll against his. The pleasure steadily builds, and I try to distract myself by biting down on Seokjin’s neck.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, “Are you close?”

I pull away from his neck and sit up, arching my back to give him a deeper angle. He thrusts up into my g-spot and I gasp, “Shit, yes, I’m close. Come with me, baby.”

I clench my walls around him. Seokjin’s eyes are scrunched shut as he continues to pound into me with harsh strokes.

He shifts one hand from my ass to gently circle my aching clit, and I light up. My walls clench and pulse, locking down on Seokjin so tight that he comes, his hot seed filling the condom as he shudders.

I collapse against him and shove my face into his sweaty neck.

I can feel his laugh bubbling up from his chest before I hear it. “What’s so funny?” I ask, lips brushing his skin.

“Namjoon’s going to kill us for the number of health code violations we just committed,” his laughter causes his cock to shift within me, and I bite back a moan.

“Well,” I lift my face up from his neck to look at him, “We have nothing to lose at this point then, huh?”

I slowly lick my lips, and his eyes drop to them. The only noise left in the restaurant is our heavy breathing. “Round two in Namjoon’s office?” he suggests.

“Bet.”

a/n: this was so fun to write :) hope you all enjoyed it! happy valentine’s day!

#fwlproject #luvlibrary #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #ksj #ksj x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts #bts smut

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jenneferofjengaberg · 3 years

Text

I recently switched from Google Chrome to Microsoft Edge on my desktop. Various reasons, mainly that my desktop PC is getting older and Google Chrome sure does suck a lot of memory and even my 16 GB was finding it hard to deal with.

And honestly, it’s been pretty great. Microsoft has made a good browser. I never thought I’d type those words, but the world is upside down now, so who knows.

It definitely is a lot faster than Chrome and way less of a memory hog. Especially on sites like this one, where a page full of huge gifs can put a lot of drag on your memory. Just in my own private tests Edge seems to use a lot less CPU cycles too. Here’s a screenshot of stats for both browsers with 10 tabs open each (same websites) and both browsers have the same exact extensions installed and loaded (more on that in a sec):

You might have to click on that to see it but the difference should be obvious. Despite the fact that both browsers are built on the Chromium codebase, Microsoft is doing something more efficiently here.

The nice thing about it using Chromium though, is that Chrome extensions are compatible with Edge. You can install them right from the Google Chrome webstore. Even better is that switching over to Edge, even after using Chrome for literally a decade, is as painless as it gets. When you start using Edge, the latest version will actually import all your Chrome extensions for you from Chrome. Actually, it smartly looks at its own Edge extensions repository and tries to see if there’s an Edge version of the same extension. If so, it installs that one. If not, it just imports the Chrome version. This is a great feature, because admittedly I tried out Edge awhile back, but the dealbreaker for me was having to manually install every single one of my Chrome extensions (I have a lot because I’m a geek). Ain’t nobody got time for that.

It’ll also import over all your bookmarks, cookies, passwords, open tabs, etc. (you can choose not to import any of these as well). For a more comprehensive guide in switching to Edge from Chrome, this PCMag article about covers it.

One new feature of Edge that I’m already sold on is the “Collections” feature. I always seem to have 20 open tabs or folders of “temporary bookmarks”. Things I want to look at soon but really don’t know what to do with. You know what I mean: articles you want to read, recipes you’re going to make in some nebulous near future, fic recs, that thing you’re researching for work, etc. The “Collections” feature lets you organize all of that into some semblance of order and get it out of your face. It pops up in a handy little sidebar (collapsible). You can add notes to your collections as well. I made a little shopping list inside my “Recipes To Make This Week” Collection. I already have a few Collections started and I’m sure I’ll be making more because I just love to sort things, it makes my heart happy.

I swear I'm not a Microsoft plant or anything, but if Chrome isn't working out for you lately, I encourage trying out Edge. They've removed a lot of the work involved with switching browsers and if you have an older machine, it may have better results for you.

#text #nerd shit #browsers #yes i ran my own browser benchmarking test #see the 'i'm a geek' explanation #my words

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slafkovskys · 4 years

Text

can’t take the in between/ r. donovan

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from cold by maroon 5 ft future

are you busy tonight?

i miss you

you look at the two messages sent back to back and sigh deeply. for ryder, this was nothing short of his usual saturday night behavior. you’d come to expect the text messages in three varieties:

‘i miss you’

‘i need you’

‘come over’.

since their season had ended, the messages had started showing up more frequently, but they were all sent under the same premise. that premise being that you wound up in his bed by the end of the night.

you pick up your phone from the table and type out a short response:

i already have plans

he reads it immediately and dislikes the message causing you to roll your eyes and drop the phone back on your bed. you look over at your laptop and exit out of the google doc before shutting your computer and pushing it to the side.

you hear a knock on your door before it’s pushed open and in walks one of your roommates, maeve. she moves into the room and plops herself down on the fuzzy bean bag in the corner. she looks at you with a grin, “so are you in?”

“what are you-” you start but you realize that it’s maeve and she always seems to find out everything even when you don’t tell her. “how did you figure it out?”

“your face dude. you look mad annoyed and that usually only happens when you-know-who does something stupid. so,” she leans forward and wraps her arms around her knees, “what did he do this time?”

“just the usual fuck boy shit, but i’m done with him this time. i swear,” she raises her eyebrow and you hold up your hand and place your other on your heart, a silent oath. “also yes, i am totally in. i need a night away. get my mind off this shit.”

she squeals and pops up, zooming over to wrap you in a hug. you fall back on your bed and groan as she falls on top of you. “i told ava i was going to get you to a party this semester and she said i couldn’t do it. i just won fifty bucks, which i am going to split with you of course.”

“of course you are, now scram. i need to get dressed,” you shoved her off of you and pointed towards your door. she walks out with a grin on her face and shuts the door behind her. you shake your head and stand up, moving into your bathroom and turning on the shower.

an hour later, you’re tying the laces on your beat-up sneakers when your door is pushed open and in strolls maeve again, two cans in her hand. she tosses you one and holds up her own, “pregame bitch. drink up.”

“you need to learn how to knock,” you complain, pulling the tab and downing the can in one go. she cheers you on as you tilt your head back and let the liquid flow down your throat, leaving a slight burn in its wake. “jesus.”

“been a while huh?” she teases as she downs her own.

you shake your head and stand up, grabbing your bag and phone, walking down the hall to the kitchen. you throw the can in the trash and unlock your phone, “it’s your turn to order the uber.”

“already ahead of you, babe. should be-” she looks down at her phone and sighs, “now actually. let’s go, mama.”

she holds out her hand and you grab it. she locks the door to your apartment behind you both and you walk out to the uber that was waiting outside. you slide in the backseat and the driver greets you both to which you return.

it took probably ten minutes before you’re pulling up outside of a house which you’d come to be very familiar with in the past year. this where ryder would always take you or tell you to meet him after games and maeve knows this. you look at her with a sharp look.

“derek said they weren’t supposed to be here. i wouldn’t do that to you y/n, c’mon,” she says, sliding out of the car. you follow her, knowing that she wouldn’t purposefully put you in a situation like that.

her fading pink hair bounces as you make your way up the shaky stairs and into the thick of it. you link hands, walking through the house and into the kitchen together. derek, her boyfriend/reason you got into all the frat parties, was already there and his face lights up when he sees maeve walking towards him.

you drop her hand and let her intertwine herself with her boyfriend as you slip over to where the drinks are. you snag one from the cooler and down most of it before a voice beside you interrupts, “jeez, you must really be going through it. i don’t think i’ve ever seen a girl down a drink like that.”

you turn your head to the side and see a boy whom you’ve never seen before standing there. he’s tall with dark hair and was equipped with a pair of the most beautiful eyes you’d probably seen, but that could just be the alcohol already taking over.

you chuckle, raising an eyebrow, “is that meant to be a compliment or…”

“i guess that depends on if you’re staying over here or not,” he raises his own eyebrow and you shrug, turning your body towards his. he grins, holding out his hand, “i’m levi.”

“y/n,” you smile back, leaning against the counter, “nice to meet you, levi.”

“nice to meet you as well, miss y/n,” you can’t help but turn your head and blush. he chuckles, “so what year are you? i can’t remember seeing you around before because i am positive that i would remember a face as pretty as yours.”

“stop, oh my god,” you shove his firm (so very firm) chest, “i’m a sophomore and i’ve been here a few times with my- someone.”

he nods, tilting his cup to his mouth. you can’t help but to watch as his adam’s apple bobs and- wow. you look away and bite your lip. your eyes catch maeve’s and she wiggles her eyebrows. you try and flip her off as slyly as possible, but it was very obvious and she burst out laughing before pulling derek away.

you and levi get to know each other a little bit over the next few minutes before his eyebrows raise at something behind you. you’re about to ask, but he beats you to it, “you know that elusive someone that you mentioned earlier? is that ‘someone’ someone that i should be worried about?”

“what-” you turn around to find shay leaning against the door frame. he sees you seeing him and he raises an eyebrow. you shake your head and turn back around, looking up at levi, “that’s someone’s brother and no, you should definitely not be worried.”

he looks unsure and you sigh, resting a hand on his arm, “do you wanna go and dance?”

his eyes follow your head as it juts towards the living room. he nods, letting you lead him out of the kitchen and into the middle of the room. you wrap your arms around his neck and his hands come to rest on your hips. you giggle as he gently pulls you closer, but you can’t help but think about shay.

wherever he was, ryder was sure not to be far.

you try and shake it off, letting yourself disappear into the music and focus on levi. you found yourself pressed against him and you both had tuned everything out. his hands progressively seem to slip lower and lower each minute that passed and you didn’t mind. someone, however, did seem to mind.

it was an instant that a hand claps down on levi’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. the voice is all to familiar, “what the fuck?”

“i could ask you the same thing, bud,” levi says and you look at the familiar blonde.

he was obviously drunk and his hair looked a mess. when his eyes meet yours there’s something in them that you’d never seen before. something that wasn’t just lust or hunger. something that kind of, maybe, could’ve been something more.

“ryder, please,” you plead, moving closer to him.

“no, who the fuck is this? he was your plan tonight, huh?” his words are beginning to slur and levi isn’t taking too kindly to him being such an ass.

levi, who’s got a couple inches on ryder, steps forward and before you can even comprehend what’s happening, his fist connects with ryder’s face. you let out a shout and surge forward, placing yourself in between the two. derek comes out of nowhere and pulls levi back while shay gets a hold of his brother and takes him away from the situation.

maeve walks over and places her hands on your shoulders, “what’s the hell just happened?”

“i- don’t know, but i’ve-” you try and catch your breath, pointing a shaky finger in the direction shay had just gone, “i gotta go and find him.”

“yeah, that’s fine. derek’ll handle him,” maeve gestured you to where levi was being escorted out and that’s when you take your leave.

you move through the house quickly, asking anyone if they’d seen either of the boys and you finally find them outside with ryder sitting on the steps and shay standing over him.

“you’re so stupid,” is what you shout as you walk around to stand in front of the younger blonde. shay moves over as you squat down, placing your hand underneath his chin to get a better look at the damage that has been done. “damn it ryder! why do you always have to run your mouth?”

he stays quiet and avoids your eyes.

you look towards shay who holds up his hands, “he found out on his own. i didn’t tell him.”

you shake your head and look back to the boy. his lip was busted and would no doubt swell up over the next few days, but besides that nothing seemed to be broken. you rest your hand on his jaw and thumb at his cheek, “ryder, baby, i’m gonna take you back to mine and clean you up. okay?”

“i ordered a car already,” shay says, showing you his phone.

“can i just venmo you for it? no offense, but i really just want to keep an eye on him,” you look at shay pleadingly and he nods. you stand up, wiping your hands on your pants and gesturing towards ryder, “can you help me get him to the front?”

“course,” shay gets an arm around ryder’s waist and you do too, leading him towards the front of the house. ryder leans most of his weight over towards shay which you’re grateful for, but he still hasn’t said a word to you.

the car pulls up and with help from shay, you get him into the backseat. you thank shay before you slide in beside ryder, directing the driver to your apartment instead of the boys’ dorm.

you hear ryder groan and you reach a hand over to run it through his hair. wordlessly, he leans over and rests his head on your lap. with some difficulty, you wrap your arms around him and lean down to press your lips to the side of his head, “why’d you do it ry?”

his fingers dance over the skin of your thigh that was exposed by a hole in your jeans and he still does not answer you. you close your eyes and sigh, continuing to play with his hair the entire ride back.

thankfully you lived on the bottom floor so getting him inside of your apartment wasn’t as big of a problem as getting him in that damn car. you lead him down the hall and into your bedroom. he tries to stumble over to the bed but you corral him into the bathroom, “we gotta clean you up first. don’t want blood on my sheets.”

you feel his eyes on you as you bend down to grab the first aid kit that you kept in one of your drawers. you sit it on the counter and pull out some of the alcohol wipes. “this is gonna sting a little.”

“i play hockey, y/n. this isn’t my first time,” it’s mumbled and slightly slurred, but it’s the first thing he’s said directly to you all night and you count that as a small win.

“sorry,” you mumble as you swipe it over his lip. he jerks and you put a hand behind his head to keep him still. you clean up the blood that had dried around his mouth and chin and you drop the wipe in the trash looking back at him to find him staring at you. “you’re staying with me tonight. no arguments.”

you walk out to grab some of his sweatpants for him to change into and it’s when your out of the room that he speaks, “you don’t get it, do you?”

you move to stand in the doorway, “don’t get what ryder?”

“it’s not just fucking, what we do. not for me anyway. hasn’t been that way since october,” he explains and you raise an eyebrow.

“we’ve been hooking up since september though?”

“i know. i had some weird logic that maybe it would just go away but it didn’t. every time i woke up and you were gone, it hurt. i never wanted you to leave. i wanted you there always,” his voice cracks and you shake your head.

“you don’t know what you’re saying ryder-”

“why? because i’m drunk?” he snaps, looking at you with watery eyes. “i feel the same damn way when i’m sober, i just don’t have the balls to tell you.”

“let’s talk about this when you’re sober then. here, get dressed,” you sit the sweatpants on the counter and walk out into your bedroom to change. you slip on your pajamas just in time for ryder to come out of the room shirtless and holding his balled-up clothes. “gimme those. you go and lay down.”

you take his clothes from him and fold them while he flops down onto your bed with a deep sigh. you place them on your dresser and flick off the light in your bathroom before joining ryder in the bed.

he’s on his back while you’re curled up on your side, facing away from him. the whirling of the fan was the only sound between you two before he mumbles softly, “i think i love you y/n.”

you bite your lip as he turns over, tears threatening to spill out of your own eyes because you knew that you loved him.

the next morning, you wake up before ryder does. you turn over and find him on his side, facing you, but still asleep. slowly, you reach a hand over to trace along his face, being careful of the bruising around his mouth.

he twitches and you freeze, watching as his eyes open. you send him a tight grin and withdraw your hand, “good morning.”

“what happened?” he looks around, “why am i here and why does my face hurt?”

“you got your shit rocked, donovan,” you sigh, “you’re lip’s busted and you’ve got a pretty gnarly bruise forming.”

“why did i get punched?”

you gulp and he raises an eyebrow, “i was dancing with someone and you didn’t like it apparently. you ripped him away from me and before you could do anything, he punched you. you’re lucky you didn’t lose a tooth.”

he shakes his head and rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“you also said something,” you start. ryder takes a deep breath, but doesn’t look over at you. “you said that what we were doing wasn’t just fucking. you said how you never wanted me to leave and how you think that- how you think that you love me.”

ryder sits up so fast that you jump, “no i didn’t. you just made that up.”

“why would i just make it up ryder?” you sit up as he gets out of bed, walking over to grab his things where you had compiled them the night before. “what are you doing?”

“i didn’t say any of that shit. you’re lying,” he scoffs while pulling on his shirt.

your stomach drops as you look at him. you’re at a loss for words as he starts shoving his things into his pockets, “you should leave.”

“i’ll lock the door behind me.”

#ryder donovan #ryder donovan imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #college hockey imagine #vegas golden knights #my work

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antivirus-mh-au · 4 years

Text

Antivirus - Chapter 2

TW: None Chapter 1 here Ao3 link If you like this, please leave a like, reblog, or send me an ask! It encourages me so much.

He blew the smoke from his mouth around the cigarette, the morning sun catching all the particles as they floated into the air. Tim drew the J on top of the fresh carton and dropped the pen onto the dashboard. Pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he drew in a deep breath of fresh air, fresh as you could get at a gas station by a highway. Looking around the parking lot, at the people filing in and out, he shook his head and gave a wry smile. Hard not to be in a good mood when you got some decent sleep for once.

Becca and Lukas were okay. Lukas's leg had been taken care of, and the two had set back off for Idaho, back to the families that loved them. Another success case for Timothy Kane. Another group of people adding to the myth of his existence. Seemed like every month there were more of them. The Operator never tired. The sickness never eased. In fact, it only grew worse.

But like hell was he going to start off a good morning with that depressing shit. He'd gotten paid, gotten rest, and he'd found out where the nearest library was with free internet. He was not going to let a rare moment of peace escape him. He'd lost too much for that.

The library wasn't far away from the gas station he'd refilled at. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, it was open, as were the windows on the front of the building. He spoke briefly to the clerk at the front desk, making sure he understood their internet rules and that it was okay for him to bring in his thermos of coffee, before finding a convenient spot by a power outlet.

His laptop was getting old, it took a while for it to boot up. As Tim waited, he thumbed through a newspaper. Experts predicting a war with China for the third time in as many years, conflict in the Middle East, the royal family in Britain getting roped into some scandal or another. That was why he didn't read the news much, it was always the same. By the time he got to the comics (never his favorite part of the newspaper), his laptop had finished, and Tim traded the two without a second thought.

He could and did check his email on his phone but he was old-fashioned and preferred to use his laptop when he had the chance. Earlier Becca's mother replied to his report about her daughter returning home, a message he'd saved in a special folder he looked at when he felt particularly shitty.

Another email was waiting for him now, from a 'Meridith Frederickson'. Another client, looking for her son and his missing best friend. He replied to that one, offering to schedule a Zoom meeting later that same day. By now he knew all too well what happened if he wasn't on top of his cases.

And of course, he had new messages in the spam folder. Tim glanced over the subjects of the emails without opening any of them. Some didn't have any, but most were vaguely threatening, the kind he usually got from trolls and kids. 'Always watching', 'there's no escape', 'how could you', and on and on and on. People thought they could get a rise out of him by acting like totheark, but none of them even came close to what Brian had been all those years ago.

Tim glanced at the tab next to his email, frowning. There was no sense in trying to put it off, even if he hated doing it. Everything on that site made him feel worse, and today had been a pretty good day. But if he didn't look, he'd regret it later, falling into a rabbit hole of updates that was guaranteed to fuck him over. So he opened YouTube.

The videos were taken down years ago, the channels involved with Marble Hornets wiped from the website. But that didn't mean they were gone, just hidden away on Google Drives and shock sites. What was on YouTube was... the fandom.

It made his skin crawl thinking about it. People from all over the world were obsessed with what he and Jay had been through. He'd seen hundreds of articles about the videos, from five minute listicles to long analysises about the events and the people involved. He'd seen other things, too, things he'd rather not remember. Like the fanart...

Out of everything, though, it was the YouTube community that unsettled him the most. The passionate, wide eyed college kids. The naive high schoolers. The older people, with their backgrounds in criminal science and forensics and cryptids and God knew what else. They picked over the videos and tweets and codes like vultures at a pile of bones. Like it was just a fictional web series, like people he knew and once liked weren't dead. And they spread the disease. It didn't take all of them, leaving the YouTubers alone, but claiming their followers. It made him sick thinking about all the people he couldn't save, the people who had no one left to try and find them, the people who vanished into Rosswood Park and were never seen again. It made him sick, watching these ignorant people talk about his pain as if they were all insects under microscopes.

But if he didn't pay attention, who knew what might happen. The Operator was watching all of them. One slip up was all it took.

He scrolled through both the front page and his subscriptions. The videos were, in the end, all the same. Speculation, discussion, analyzation. Some of them he could watch later. Others needed his attention now.

Tim’s eyes landed on a video, and his heart clenched. The Neophyte was streaming again.

The still image didn’t show much. Neophyte_Calling didn’t put much work into his channel. It was just a shot of what the streams normally showed, pale, unkempt hands poking free from black robes, resting on an old plastic table. That was what he expected to find once he opened the stream.

And he’d be correct, that was what awaited him once he got the courage to click. The hands twitched and clenched and dug at the table. It wasn’t the hands that were special though, it was what the owner of those hands were saying.

“Autumn after firestorm, the nights don’t listen and the butter is on the corn. Ten days or twenty paces of living guts wrapped around an old man’s neck. The water comes up to your waist but you don’t feel the attitude of denial inside the bastard daughter’s heart. Oh, god, eureka, industry was never so smooth…”

Complete nonsense. The ramblings of a man on some kind of drug, or lost to some unknown mental illness. Despite this, the chat flooded with messages. Donations popped up occasionally, attempts to get the Neophyte’s attention. He didn’t notice. He never noticed. He just kept talking. And he would keep talking until the stream ended on its own, or he passed out on the table.

People called him a prophet. Claimed every word he spoke had a double, or even a triple, meaning. They recorded every word he said and discussed them among themselves, coming up with ‘translations’ for his maddening dialogue. And to be fair, they could have a point. Sometimes, what the Neophyte said did seem to foretell events that happened not long after he spoke them. But the god the Neophyte channeled was not one Tim would ever ask someone to worship.

Silence. The man stopped talking, his fidgeting hands resting flat on the table. Dread filled Tim’s body. Speak of the devil, he was doing this again?

The Neophyte spoke again, his voice deeper now. The words came clumsy from his mouth, uncomfortable, heavy, as if he had never spoken before. The emphasis, the tone, it was all wrong. Tim had no trouble understanding them, however.

“You always fight,” It said through the Neophyte’s mouth. “You always resist. You tire, and exhaust, and fall. You continue to fight despite.”

The robes shifted, the head hidden from the camera’s view tilting.

“Tim,” It said. “You are a grain of sand. I am eternal. I am here. I will always be here. You understand. You continue despite.”

On the side of the screen, the chat surged with messages. It raced so quickly, Tim couldn’t have read any of them even if he tried. He didn’t look away from the livestream.

“Tim,” It said again. “Enough. You have fought hard. You are getting old. That’s enough. It’s time to come home. To us. To all of us.”

The hair stood up on his arms, on the back of Tim’s neck. He shuddered.

“Like hell,” he whispered, and closed the tab.

But even though he closed the livestream, he could swear he heard the Neophyte, the thing puppeting him, whisper in his mind.

“Coward.”

When 2pm rolled around, Tim was back in his van in the library parking lot. Obviously he couldn’t do a Zoom call inside the quiet space, but their internet reached well past the parking lot. He sat on his bed, now folded up like a couch inside the converted van he lived in. His laptop open before him, the program open and ready. Now he just had to wait for her.

Hard to say what this Meredith Fredrickson would expect a private investigator like him to look like, but Tim did his best to look presentable anyway. Hair combed, beard trimmed, leather jacket kept to the side out of her line of sight - leather jackets weren’t worn by authority figures, and that was what he was trying to be right now. Not anyone could do this job, but who’s to say she knew that? If she didn’t like the way he looked, she could try to find someone else to find her son and his friend. And if she did that, by the time she realized only Tim could help her, it would be too late.

Thinking about it that way made him shudder.

Of course, while he was prepared to deal with what she thought he would look like, he wasn’t as ready for what she herself would look like. As the call began, and Meredith’s face came on screen, Tim hesitated. He looked at her closely again. Had he seen this woman before?

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Fredrickson,” He greeted.

The woman shook her head, her curly brown hair tossing around her slim shoulders.

“Meredith is fine,” she said. “I haven’t been called ‘Mrs’ since my husband died. I changed back to my maiden name - my son’s last name will be his, not mine.”

“Of course,” Tim said. Odd information to include, but people tended to ramble when they were nervous.

He looked at her again, at the frown lines developing around her lips, and the worry and pain in her wide-set eyes. Behind her was a normal looking home, a few windows with pale curtains, a kitchen kept clean from what little he saw. Something was nagging at him. What was it?

“Did you fill out the information packet I requested?” He asked.

Meredith nodded.

“Yes.”

The file appeared, Tim half-listening to her as he opened it.

“I know this is a very strange thing to ask from you,” Meredith said. “But circumstances have changed in a way I really didn’t expect. I know it’s hard to believe that after ten years my son could be alive, but I don’t have any other explanation for…”

She trailed off. Tim didn’t look away from the document she’d sent. The names written on the very first line.

Missing People: Jay Merrick and Alex Kralie

Motherfucker, had he been tricked?

Tim shot the woman a sharp glance, examining her expression in seconds. She was not the first person to ask him to track down Jay and Alex, but she was the first he hadn’t screened out before it got this far. Most people were upfront about their intentions, or were obviously trolling, or he otherwise got weird vibes from them. This Meredith had slipped him by, and wasted his time in the process.

“He is my son,” Meredith said. “I’ve included his birth certificate, since I thought you might not believe me.”

“I don’t need it.” A birth certificate? Those weren’t easy to fake, but Tim was no expert on Photoshop either.

“I would’ve included Alex’s, too,” Meredith continued. “After all the years he and Jay knew each other, you would’ve thought I’d have it too.” She laughed, and there was pain within it. “But his parents died in a car accident about six years back, and…”

“Wait.” Tim refocused. “Alex and Jay knew each other?”

“Since the first year of middle school,” Meredith said with a nod. “I have a lot of photos of them. You know, Jay went through a phase, where he wore all black, and listened to rock music with singers I couldn’t understand. He got a tattoo of one of the bands on his ankle behind my back. I was so angry...”

She laughed again, and her eyes went distant. Tim stared at her, his mind flashing back to all the conversations he’d had with Jay, things that didn’t go into the videos. Being Alex’s childhood friend, since middle school - the phases he went through as a teen - that damn tattoo he was so embarrassed of. None of these were known by the fandom.

Oh god, this woman was the real deal. Even her face, now that he looked at her, was just like Jay’s. The distant look in her eyes as she thought… Jay got that same expression.

“Meredith,” he said, his voice softer, kinder. “Do you know about Marble Hornets?”

“I can’t bring myself to watch them,” she said. Meredith folded her hands together. “But I know what… what was shown on the videos. I know that they are…” She swallowed. “Considered dead by most people. I was one of them.”

His gut twisted. By most people, including her. “But something… changed.”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, and moved to wipe her eyes. “I got a package in the mail about a week ago. Inside was a flashdrive and a few printed photos. It had been placed in my mailbox - I don’t know who sent it.”

Oh no, Tim thought. Not this again. Please, don’t play this game with people again.

“What were the photos?” He asked, aware of the sound of his own voice more than anything else.

“I’ve included most of them in the document,” Meredith said. “I… I still can’t believe what I’ve seen, but… But they don’t look like they could’ve been faked.”

Dread pressed down on his shoulders. Dread and something else, some kind of energy buzzing through his nerves. Tim looked at the document, scrolled down, and opened the photos.

Some were blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in before being printed. Some were clear as glass. It took him several seconds to process what he was seeing, what the subjects of the photos were. Tim blinked, looked again, and his pulse quickened.

Alex, standing on a street corner, gray in his hair, exhaustion on his face. Jay in a dark cloth jacket with a hood, looking over his shoulders. Alex, and Jay, Alex, and Jay, in all the photos, in every single one. The clothes were different, the faces aged, but there was no denying what he was seeing, and like Meredith said, no way to fake what he was looking at.

“Oh my god,” Tim mumbled.

Jay and Alex were alive.

#marble hornets #marble hornets fanfiction #marble hornets tim #Tim Wright #mh tim wright #mh tim #marble hornets alex #alex kralie #mh jay merrick #jay merrick #MH Jay #mh antivirus au #mh alex

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Day 3 Hobbit Plot Bunnies

Title: Second Chance at a Happy Ending

Summary: Modern Reincarnation AU. Thorin is the CEO of Erebor Industries and Bilbo is a reclusive paralegal. Two people who have no business existing in the same universe as each other, and yet they dream of each other from the time of The Hobbit. So when Gandalf offers Bilbo’s services in regards to a legal problem in Erebor, well it’s a second chance neither of them thought they would be lucky enough to receive.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Thorin struggles with PTSD

POV: Switches between Bilbo and Thorin

It was happening again. The dreams. It wasn’t every night. In fact, sometimes Bilbo would go months, even years, without having one. However, every single one of them was as vivid as the last and seemed to haunt him for the rest of the day.

“You! What were you doing?” The injured dwarf commanded relying on the help of his kin to regain his footing.

“You nearly got yourself killed!” He continued taking a step closer. “Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us.”

At this point he was mere inches away. Close enough that Bilbo could feel the warmth radiating off of him and the glare burning into him. Not that he was able to raise his eyes higher than the dwarf’s booted feet.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.” The dwarf sighed in relief before enveloping Bilbo in a tight hug.

Bilbo stiffened completely unprepared for the embrace, and he was certain his jaw was dropped in surprise. Being in his arms though...a smile split his face as he hugged back just as tightly amidst the cheers of the remaining company. Too soon, the dwarf stepped away looking him over as if to double check that he was alright.

“I am sorry I doubted you.” He stated, his eyes full of guilt.

Bilbo shook his head, his chest burning under that look.

“No, I would have doubted me too.” He answered. “I’m not a hero or a warrior...or even a burglar.”

Never once did the dwarf’s sky eyes waver. Never once did his soft smile wane. Bilbo would have done anything to always have that smile on him. However, the sounds of eagles screeching seemed to drag both of their gazes away, and when Bilbo looked back the dwarf was staring over the top of his head, his mouth agape. As he walked ahead, Bilbo spun around as well only to see a single mountain rising out of the expanse as if trying to reach out to the rising sun.

“Is that what I think it is?” Bilbo questioned following the dwarf to the edge of the ledge they were standing on.

“Ere.... The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth.” A familiar voice answered.

“Our home.” The dwarf breathed reverently.

Bilbo stared at him with a smile appreciating his strong profile as his eyes stayed glued on the mountain. Somewhere behind them there was something about a bird.

“We’ll take it as a sign.” The dwarf grinned looking over at Bilbo fondly. “A good omen.”

Bilbo felt his chest puff up in pride as he nodded along. He turned back towards the mountain as if it held all the answers to his problems.

“You’re right. I do believe the worst is behind us.”

Bilbo truly believed it too. And then there was a giant golden eye glaring at him.

Bilbo gasped, his hand reaching for his ring finger, yanking at something that wasn’t there. When he finally had his wits about him again, he fell back against the pillow rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced over at his alarm clock with a groan. It was still too early to get up.

He fiddled with the lamp on his side table before reaching for the notebook in his first drawer. His mother had taught him to keep a dream journal back when he finally decided to confess them to her. The beat-up twenty year old spiral was full of torn and stained pages that contained detailed accounts of the odd encounters with the dwarf king he had taken to nicknaming Oak.

Once he wrote down what he remembered of the dream, he flipped to the back where he had been working towards a sketch of Oak. The problem was, as clear as he could see him while dreaming, the image always tended to flicker away from his consciousness the moment he woke up. All he had so far was a very detailed set of eyes with a rather striking nose. When Bilbo finished eking out every last moment he could remember, he carefully put the notebook back in the drawer and hopped up to make a pot of coffee before starting his day.

Not that long ago, his morning would consist of fighting his way into a suit to get out the door with plenty of time to fight the Tube’s morning commute to one of the top law firms in London. However, the death of his mother three years ago had him re-evaluating his priorities. So he said goodbye to the spacious apartment, goodbye to the hustle and bustle of Zone Two, and retreated north to Lancashire. He would have quit his job as a paralegal completely, but Gandalf Grey, one of five partners at Maiar Law, refused to accept his resignation.

So here Bilbo was, receiving his workload via email, and going outside only for groceries and to mess around in the garden in order to preserve his image from total and complete hermit. Not exactly where he pictured himself at thirty-four that was for certain. He was in the process of seeing what exactly Gandalf had in store for him today knowing he still needed to finish putting together the information on the Proudfoot case only to narrow his eyes at the strange email in his inbox.

As he opened it and scanned the contents, he immediately had his phone in hand and Gandalf’s name highlighted before he even stopped to think of whether it was a good idea or not. Especially considering it was 6:30 in the morning.

“Bilbo! My dear fellow, how are you on this glorious morning?” Gandalf’s voice answered.

It was almost obnoxious how cheery he was.

“Do you at all remember our conversation last week?” He demanded, skipping the pleasantries.

“Of course.” Gandalf returned.

“You came all the way down to my house and said there was a job for me in London if I wanted it, and I told you I was fine where I was.” Bilbo prompted further.

“I dare say my memory hasn’t failed me quite yet.” Gandalf huffed. “I recall the conversation.”

“So then why in the world do I have an email from Erebor Industries confirming my 2pm appointment with someone named Thorin Durin?!”

“Because I thought your argument was a load of poppycock.” Gandalf scoffed. “So I took the liberty of accepting for you.”

If the man was standing before him, Bilbo would throttle him. He swears he would.

“No, absolutely not. I won’t do it.” Bilbo snarked, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Can you give me one good reason why you shouldn’t?” Gandalf pestered.

“How about the fact that I only stayed with the firm because you allowed a work from home clause to my contract? How about the fact that I’m woefully underprepared to meet with one of the richest CEOs in the UK? Oh and if those aren’t good enough, let’s bring up the fact that I’M NOT ACTUALLY A LAWYER!”

There was silence on the line for a long moment. Long enough for the anger to slowly dissipate out of Bilbo.

“Bilbo, what you’re doing right now isn’t living. It’s existing. The world isn’t there in your little cottage amongst your books and garden. It’s out here. Come back to us. Besides, all I need you to do is gather information on what Mr. Durin needs our services for. You’re not to advise him in any way, and he’s well aware of this fact. Just this one small favor, and I’ll leave you to your precious Shire.”

Something ugly and painful welled up in Bilbo’s chest at Gandalf’s words. What did he know anyways? Bilbo was perfectly content here in his mother’s house. Perfectly content.

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but you have the wrong person for the job.” He murmured softly.

“Well…” Gandalf’s disappointment rolled through the phone in waves. “I don’t believe that is true. But if this is what you wish, I won’t press the matter. Take care of yourself, Bilbo Baggins.”

With that, he ended the call, and Bilbo numbly set his phone down on the countertop. Well that was that. He decided to pitter about the kitchen and start on something for breakfast. Probably just eggs and toast. He pretended the silence of the house wasn’t oppressive in the least.

He took a shower, dressed in something sensible, and settled himself into his study again with a nice cuppa. He fished a pair of reading glasses out of the pocket on his jumper, staring at the documents to do with Mr. Proudfoot’s case. However, he couldn’t take in the words. His mind was elsewhere. He felt relatively guilty for his behavior towards Gandalf. Maybe he could just put together some information about Erebor Industries that could help whoever was going to take his place.

He opened up a search tab on his computer and started reading through the google listings. He knew the company for it’s massive steel mill, but he had no idea they had a jewelry chain, and that they made weaponry for the military. That seemed rather ominous until he read further and found out that Thorin Durin was a war vet. Medically discharged eight years prior for a shot in the chest that nearly collapsed his lung. Bilbo winced, rubbing his own chest in sympathy.

His search switched gears at that point, and he clicked on a page dedicated to the relatively young CEO. Forty-two, only surviving family was his sister and two nephews. Seemed to be a relatively private person. He found it odd that there were no scandals surrounding him or the company. It was odd for someone seeking legal counsel outside of his own company. Then, there at the bottom of the page, was a photo of Thorin Durin, and Bilbo swore his heart forgot how to beat.

It was him. It was Oak, the dwarf king. Bilbo would recognize the face from his dreams anywhere. How though? How was this possible? Bilbo’s fingers traced Thorin’s haunted eyes and humorless face so unlike the soft smile from his dream this morning. In that moment, Bilbo wanted to do whatever he could to relieve this man of even a fraction of his worries.

Bilbo jolted. The meeting. He had to be there. No way was he missing out now. He checked his phone. He had time. He ran into his bedroom turning on the iron as he searched the closet for one of his good suits stuffed in the back. Twenty minutes later, he was all but flying to his car. It was going to be a long drive into London. He paused to send Gandalf a quick text before peeling out of the drive like his house was on fire. He had an appointment with destiny he was not about to be late for.

#7 days of plot bunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #birthdayplotbunnies #starterdrabble #our boys didn't get a chance to boink in canon #so here's their chance

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davidcxrenswet · 3 years

Note

“ i can feel you staring at me . ”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been caught just staring at her, and in his defense it wasn’t like it was easy not to stare at her. Something about Mariana Diaz kind of just drew you in — You were forced to watch her as she just crossed a room. That pull was like a force of nature, something beyond Harvey’s control. A gravitational pull. She was the hot and molten core of his earth and he was just a pebble unable to push away from her. She wasn’t easy to ignore and Harvey just couldn’t help but gaze at her every chance he could. It wasn’t like it was a lewd stare — He wasn’t like the other boys in Barton Hollow. He’d made a promise, an internal pact, to never treat her like some object for his own personal pleasure. He would respect her as a woman, and furthermore a woman he cared deeply about. That meant being respectful and decent except in the few scenarios where it allowed for some coy, sensual flirtation. So yes, he did find himself unconsciously staring at her but it was only ever with a look of pure adoration. Most of the time he didn’t even realize he was doing it, not until she commented on it or looked directly back at him and questioned what he was looking at. It was just some unconscious reflex he couldn’t control. When there was a lull in whatever movie they were watching, or if he was reading a boring passage in a book, no matter what the situation Harvey would find his mind —and eye— wandering directly to Mariana, looking gorgeous and completely oblivious to the wonderment and awe in his warm gaze.

That very afternoon they were doing their usual “chill” post-school hang out. It started out with him picking her up from school with a coffee in hand and ended back in his bedroom, close in company while doing something separate. Mariana lounged back against the pillows on his queen sized bed wearing one of his old Lacrosse jerseys and not much else, idly flipping through a magazine while Harvey sat at the foot of the bed with his iPad and a dozen various google search tabs opened on safari. Research… for how to break centuries old blood pacts with demons. The usual stuff. They were mostly silent, not really interacting. Mariana occasionally stopped reading to pull out her phone and respond to messages, messages Harvey pretended to know nothing about. Every time she shifted, the collar of his shirt would move with her, sometimes sliding down over her shoulder so it peaked out from beneath the fabric, teasing him from where he sat at the foot of the bed. Another day he might have taken the moment to crawl over and divert her attention from her phone to his lips, to seize the opportunity and cuddle closer to her. Today was different. He wasn’t thinking about the way her body would feel pressed into his — he did his best not to dwell too hard on that anyway. He wasn’t really thinking much at all. He was going off some other instinct he couldn’t quite name, focusing on her and clearing his mind save for the weird way he was feeling at that moment. In his head it was her and only her, nothing else was really registering. It was almost like an out of body experience, he wasn't really aware of what he was doing or how he was moving. So when Mariana had spoken up, not even bothering to look away from her phone, he was caught completely off guard. How long had he been out of it?

“Oh… sorry, baby,” he’d said dumbly. The grin that followed was small but sheepish, barely enough to form shallow dimples in his cheeks. He almost turned his attention away from her, chastened by being caught observing her, but he didn’t. Instead Harvey just kept his gaze locked onto her, the sheepish grin changing into something softer and unknown as he just watched her some more. Evidently, Mariana knew he was still looking. Soon enough her eyes were on him, a questioning glance in the way she looked back at him. It would normally be enough to cause him to blush and look away, fumbling with his words for a second before recovering with some flirty little something to make the moment seem less awkward. He’d recover with a compliment on her beauty, which was always sincere given that even sitting there in one of his shirts she was still somehow the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. Or he’d make a joke about her “adorable resting bitch face” or inquire on what she was thinking because he was just burning with curiosity over what her microexpressions meant. Anything. He’d recover with just about anything… But today he was completely lost for words. “It’s just...”

He couldn’t quite describe what was going through his mind as he sat there looking at her; observing the lines of her face, counting the different shades of gold and green and brown that made up her hazel eyes, following the slope of her lips. Committing her face to memory though he’d already known it so well. It had almost felt like he was looking at it for the first time ever, really just looking at it. The more he stared at her, the more he felt this cloudy and heavy feeling inside his mind and chest, one that overwhelmed his every sense. He’d felt dizzy and light and dreamy and soft and nervous and excited all at once. It caused a laugh to bubble up his throat, a low vibrating chuckle that came from deep in his chest. The laugh didn’t quite catch either of them off guard… but the words that accompanied it did. He had no idea what he was about to blurt out, completely lost in that moment and the odd new feelings swirling within him that he had no idea what he was going to say. If he’d had any control in that moment, he’d have stopped it from coming out. This wasn’t how he wanted to present it, this wasn’t how he imagined it happening. And yet, nothing could stop the words from falling out with that soft laughter, low and gentle and yet very much loud enough for them both to hear.

“I love you.”

The moment he’d said those three small words, everything around him seemed to change. Whatever light and airy feeling had possessed him had suddenly lost its fight to gravity. He’d felt literally as if his body had been slammed back down to earth, much like coming down from a daydream. His own words gave him whiplash, left him winded and terrified of the response. His heart had gone from a slow and steady pace to galloping madly within his chest, and suddenly his throat was clenched with anxiety. All at once, the soft and sickly sweet, loving, grin that had formed on his lips had vanished as the inclination of his outburst settled between them. He’d not even given himself much of a chance to decipher her reaction. In the split second between realization and finally tearing his gaze away from her, Harvey could have sworn he saw Mariana’s face blanche in response. Whether it was true or a trick of his mind, that’s not the kind of reaction you hope for after such a reveal.

“That… that wasn’t… that’s not how I wanted to say that,” Harvey sputtered out, burying his face in his hands. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed, just a couple feet away from her and yet he felt miles away. Or perhaps he wished he was. He groaned against the rough skin of his palms before freeing himself from his hiding spot, angling a bright pink face in her direction though not meeting her eyes as he rambled on. “I had a whole thing planned out. I was going to take you somewhere nice, on a proper date, and - and I’ve been taking these Spanish classes, practicing my accent, and I wrote down a whole thing and I was going to surprise you with it, I swear and I-I,” he swallowed, his cheeks dusted in a crimson sheen. Harvey was flustered and embarrassed, shy and insecure. He’d wanted to create a romantic swoon worthy moment of the day he’d declare his feelings for her. Something she could look back on and remember fondly. Not like this. Not while wearing sweatpants and a v neck t-shirt with a light mustard stain on it he had yet to notice. He wanted to give her something she could always look back on with no regrets. But it was too late. He’d said it and he couldn’t take it back.

“What’s it matter anyway? If it was in English or Spanish or at some fancy special place?” He’d finally said. Slowly he crawled towards her, closing the space between them. He’d finally looked at her again and he wasn’t entirely sure what her expression meant. Or maybe he just refused to acknowledge what was plain across her face. “You had to have known how deeply I’ve come to feel for you. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings, at least not from you. But if it isn’t obvious…. I’m crazy about you. I cherish you and adore you, and I... I feel like I can truly be myself around you. I mean look at us — we’ve been sitting here quietly for hours, barely talking and yet… I feel so happy and comfortable just being near you. You.. you mean the world to me. You came to me during what felt like the darkest time of my life, from something I never imagined I could survive from, and you helped me see that my life isn’t over. Just by giving me something new to be excited about. You make me feel alive. And I… I don’t know, I just…” His breath stuttered around his words, his hands moving up to cup either side of her face. He searched her gaze momentarily, hoping she’d stop his mad rambling with a kiss and a return of the feelings. Something. But she didn’t. Maybe she was in shock. Was this the first time a boy clumsily revealed his heart to her? He didn’t think so… but maybe this was the first time a boyfriend did. Wasn’t he the first?

Thumbs sliding over her cheek bones, he clenched his jaw for a second before giving her that special dimpled grin that seemed to be reserved for her. That special smile which initially disappeared in the Devil’s Cavern all those months ago with his friends until the fateful day a cute blonde came jogging down his lane and ushered them back into his life. Now his every smile belonged to her and her only. “Te amo, Mariana,” Harvey tested the phrase with a voice that was soft but full of conviction. It was a phrase he’d worked on for weeks, which he’d quietly rehearsed to the mirror or deep in the night when she was fast asleep in the crook of his arms and the only audience he had was the moon peeking through the mountains outside. He’d said it many times to her when she wasn’t able to hear, and yet it felt so exhilarating and new saying it now directly to her face. Now she knew, she knew the extent of his heart and how it yearned for her. He couldn’t take it back, it was already being laid on a silver platter and offered to her for the taking. He could only hope she’d accept what he was giving… And maybe return the sentiment. Oh how he hoped she’s come to feel the same for him. As he tilted her face back so he could see clearly into her eyes, he swallowed down his nerves as he added, “Please tell me I said that right and I didn’t just tell you to, like, fuck off or something. And please… Please tell me you feel the same.”

@karolinadeanwrites

#ship: harviana #karolinadeanwrites #answered

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