#IF I WAS STANDING THERE IN YOUR APARTMENT ID TAKE THAT BOMB IN YOUR HEAD AND DISARM IT

[littencloud9]

forever winter as a kunikidazai song send POST

[beetroots-and-murder]

me when forever winter

[blendinblandin]

Forever Winter is genuinely so distressing to me personally I love it I hate it I’LL BE SUMMER SUN FOR YOU FOREVER

[thehalfbloodedwitch]

Diamonds around my neck Vol. 2 (D.m. x reader)

Pairing- Boss!draco x Employee!femreader

Summary- Reader and Draco are business rivals from the top two business companies, when the reader goes undercover to unleash Draco’s company’s secrets when she accidentally falls in love with him.

A/n- This is a Muggle au fic, no Voldy au, also MGBL is not a real job, I just made it up. Also, I have tried a new writing style for this fic, hope you enjoy :)

Warnings- Mentions of death, k1lling, basically a dark theme

Meaning- Y/e/c = your eye color

Words- 5,514 words (yeah ik its a lot)

Volume 1 Draco Masterlist Main Masterlist

"We meet at last," the man said, and Y/n froze, her eyes panicked and her breath hitched; she wasn't ready to meet this man, but now he stood right in front of her, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Malfoy"

There stood Draco Malfoy, the manager of Reign of Fire was standing right in front of her, he stood there proudly with a smug smirk on his face.

He cleared his throat and spoke, “I have heard that you have decoded by far the most difficult set of codes”

“Yes indeed” Y/n said with a smile.

“Oh, how rude of me, please do take your leave, we shall discuss about your work tomorrow” Draco said as he stepped in the elevator while Y/n stepped out.

After just about a few seconds, that felt like minutes, the elevator door shut behind Y/n and she sighed of relief.

Back at Y/n’s apartment, she called up Sarah and told her about everything that happened back at the Reign of Fire.

After putting her cellphone down she took a warm bath with a lavender scented candle and bath bomb. She spent an hour or two in the tub wondering how on earth she would be able to make Draco Malfoy fall for her, a mere employee.

Despite being the most self-assured and intelligent woman on the planet, Y/n would always feel inferior to Draco Malfoy, after all he was the manager of the leading company in the entire world

Draco Malfoy had that effect on people, and she had to somehow make this man, who thinks others as nothing but mere filth, fall in love with her

The next day arrived sooner than she anticipated and once again she walked through those doors of the Reign of Fire lobby where Alex was waiting for her with a smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Reign of Fire Y/n, here’s your ID” Alex said as he hands over an id card which had a tag that was black in color with the letters Reign of Fire Employee edged on it in white.

“Thank you, Alex” Y/n said with a small smile on her face, at the moment she didn’t care about anything else, she was just waiting for her meeting with the manager, Draco Malfoy.

After handing over the ID, Alex kept on blabbering about the rules and regulations and what not, half of which Y/n had tuned out and after he said something about a topic that caught Y/n’s attention.

“Oh and please do meet Mr. Malfoy at his office, he had asked for your presence before you start with your work here with us, head to the elevator and go to the 49th floor where you'll be guided to Mr. Malfoy’s cabin, have a good day at work Y/n”

Y/n’s feet automatically started walking towards the elevator and as the elevator door closed she pressed the button number 49 and waited to reach the floor.

Her heart kept beating faster and faster as she neared the 49th floor, and after what felt like hours of waiting, the door of the elevator finally opened and outside a guard was stantioned as Alex had mentioned who guided her towards the manager’s cabin.

Here goes nothing

Y/n breathed and opened the gold knob to a magnificent cabin and in sat Draco, his blonde hair slightly messy, his tie hung loose over his neck and his eyes scanning a dozen papers from a folder he was holding

Y/n cleared her throat to catch his attention, which it did, Draco’s eyes left the folder and landed on her eyes, his icy blue eyes meeting her y/e/c orbs felt like fire meeting ice, an unspoken spark lingered between the two.

“I see you are prepared for work today Ms. Y/l/n” looking at her ID as his eyes scanned her entire attire and body.

“Yes, I am” Y/n replied

“Well, please do take a seat” Draco said after a while of silence.

Y/n went and took a seat right in front of Draco, and she couldn’t help but notice the details of his face at such close proximity, his face was as clear as a stream of river, his eyes were like turquoise pebbles and his lips lush pink.

His eyes didn’t leave hers even for a minute.

Y/n sucked in a deep breath before taking a seat. The air conditioning of the room was perfect, yet she could feel her skin burning like she was in a 100 degree oven.

"I've been curious since your interview ended – how did you become so skilled at coding? Your proficiency is impressive and it's surprising that you haven't found a job yet. It seems like only an experienced coder could have such talent."

"Mr. Malfoy, while experience certainly helps in gaining knowledge about coding, I believe that having a strong interest in the subject and regularly practicing is just as important. I have always been passionate about coding, and this has allowed me to develop my skills beyond what I might have learned through work experience alone."

“Hmm” is all Draco replied while holding that icy cold stare back at her

"I don't want to take up any more of your time. Please feel free to head to your cabin and begin your introduction to the staff," said Mr. Malfoy

And, Y/n got up from their seat and left the cabin.

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"Hello Y/n! Welcome to the Reign of Fire!" greeted Claire, one of the employees. Y/n smiled and took a sip from the champagne glass that the staff members had given her.

It was her first day and the team had organized a welcome party for her, complete with introductions.

"Pleasure meeting all of you! I'm excited to work with such a talented team," Y/n said in a cheerful tone.

While she was outwardly friendly, her mind was filled with plans to:

Charm THE manager of Reign of Fire

Uncover the secrets of this company and possibly after everything kill the manager

This wasn’t something that could be achieved by just luck or chance, it required proper planning and as of now she had to concentrate on how Draco Malfoy would even start liking her.

The day had ended and it was already 8 pm and Y/n decided to stay a bit longer at the office while drinking her tenth? No, twelfth? Whatever, glass of champagne.

As the hour grew late, the office lights began to dim. From her cabin on the 36th floor, Y/n could see the warm glow of the city lights through the window.

She noticed the little streetlights and shop lights twinkling below.

Her belongings were neatly arranged in the cabin, but there were a few empty cardboard boxes lying on the floor.

As Y/n took another sip from her glass, she heard footsteps towards her cabin, her eyes snapped open, a bit hungover but nevertheless alert, she clenched her glass tightly ready to use it as a weapon if needed.

“Isn’t it a bit late for you to stay here on your first day of work?” a voice that was not unrecognizable spoke,

Y/n lifted her glass and replied, “Can’t I celebrate on getting into my dream company for a little longer?”

“Of course you can, but you see Ms. Y/l/n, it’s already time for the office to shut, so I would suggest you to head back and be on time tomorrow”

“Alright fine boss, whatever you say” Y/n said, she was aware of what was happening but had no control over her mouth or the words that she was speaking

Y/n stood from the chair of her cabin and walked towards the door where Draco stood in his black tux, hair messy as usual and reeked of his expensive cologne.

As she went to turn off the lights of her cabin, she tripped and almost fell from the loss of balance from the heels she was wearing. However, a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist to steady her.

There was a brief eye contact between the two and were merely inches away.

“Be careful Y/n” his voice almost as soft as a whisper against her skin left a wave of shiver down her spine, her name against his lips sounded like it was meant to be said only by him, every syllable, every letter, everything about it felt right.

She couldn’t reply, her throat restraining her from speaking and after a while she felt Draco’s arms wrapping tighter around her waist as every second went by.

It was a surreal moment for Y/n as Draco helped her stand up, supporting her with his strong arms. But as he let go, she felt a sudden chill in the air and a sense of emptiness in her body.

The cabin was dark and the only thing visible were Draco's piercing blue eyes, staring straight at her as he casually tucked his hands inside his tuxedo pockets.

“After you” he said as he motioned her to leave and Y/n did

They walked silently to the elevator and then to the parking lot. The silence was charged with unspoken emotions that they both felt but didn't acknowledge.

They didn't exchange a word or look at each other, afraid to disrupt the fragile balance they were holding onto

Y/n reached her home after she drank some water and thought about the encounter she had with Draco, it didn’t feel, fake, it all felt as though the feelings she felt at that moment was real.

But Y/n couldn’t afford to let her feelings come in the way of the plan.

Y/n informed Sarah about everything that happened at the Reign of Fire, including her encounter with Draco, but she left out the intimate details.

Sarah was pleased with the progress they had made with their plan.

After their conversation, Y/n parked her car in her apartment's parking lot and headed towards her apartment.

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The next few days were filled with Y/n trying to get Draco's attention. However, he didn't even acknowledge her presence.

Y/n would enter the office, finish her work, and leave without any word from Draco. The days just went by, and Y/n felt as though she was getting nowhere.

It was clear to Y/n that Draco was avoiding her at all costs. She couldn't help but wonder what the reason was.

Was he trying to suppress any feelings he had or assumed to have for her? Or was it that he didn't have any feelings for her and was just being his usual cold self?

No one knew for sure, but one thing was clear – Draco Malfoy was avoiding a situation. It was out of character for him to avoid anything.

Y/n knew that she had to charm Draco at all costs, and that too at a specified time that was worth a whole year.

She had made a promise to Sarah that she would leave the company after a year, which meant that Y/n had only a limited amount of time to make her move.

She couldn't afford to waste any more time, and she had to find a way to break through Draco's cold exterior.

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“Please Alex, I must speak with the manager at once! It is urgent”

“Y/n you know it isn’t that urgent, you can solve that issue on your own” Alex replied, his eyes remaining on the pile of papers he had in hand while he put his glasses on to read

“I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t actually urgent” Y/n protested as she sat on the chair in front of Alex in his cabin

“What’s the matter?”

“There is a server problem, more like a bug in the server that must have been planted by someone to hang the server, all the employees are complaining about the server being down for several days, I know how to fix it but I need to speak with the manager about this matter”

“A bug? On our server? Y/n, you must be joking because our server is the best and has been the best for over years now, maybe its a computer problem which, I can fix by tomorrow” Alex replied coolly

“It is not a computer problem Alex its-”

“What’s the issue here, Alex?” asked a cold voice asked, which was undoubtedly Draco's

"Eh, Sir, Y/n here wanted to speak with you about an issue that has raised recently about our database server,” Alex replied, keeping all his papers at hand to the side of the table and meeting Draco’s cold gaze.

“Ms. Y/l/n, what is the matter with our server?” Draco asked with an arched brow

“Sir, you see, the server has been down and acting strangely for many employees here and I suspect it’s a bug in the coding of the server that might be the cause for this” Y/n said as she turned her chair and faced Draco

“A bug in the server? How are you so sure Ms. Y/l/n that it must be a bug in the server that has caused any issue?” Draco asked, folding his hands over his chest and leaning against the door frame

“Uhm, it does look like a problem caused by bugs in the system, I have dealt with code bugs in a separate course that I had taken and it seems like the problems that I have seen in the server is because of a bug” Y/n replied crossing her legs

"The server's database can only be coded by the server developers. If you would like, I can check with them and let you know if there is a bug in the server. You may leave now," Draco said.

Y/n stood up from the chair and began to make her way towards the exit of Alex's cabin, but as she passed by Draco, their shoulders brushed against each other.

Suddenly, she felt his hand grab onto her arm, halting her from walking any further.

"And if this turns out to be a bug in the server, you're getting a raise," Draco said, his tone rough. Y/n quietly smirked in response, taking it as a playful challenge.

"We'll need to talk about that raise in a while then, sir" Y/n replied with a small grin, before gently pulling her arm away from Draco's grip and continuing towards the door.

Soon enough, about three hours after the meeting at Alex's cabin, Y/n was called to the manager's cabin.

As Y/n walked towards the cabin, she couldn't help but think about the fact that she herself had planted that bug in the server. It was to catch Draco’s attention, which it did, but now what?

She had no plan on how she would even start a conversation with Draco about anything romantic or flirty.

As she entered the cabin, she saw Draco ending a call with someone (presumably the server developers) and gave her the signal to sit.

“You indeed have blown my mind Y/n” was the first sentence Draco spoke after a short silence.

Y/n was more than shocked to hear Draco call her by her first name, not her last and this was something to celebrate over.

“What can I say, I am really good at my job” Y/n replied

"As we spoke earlier about the raise, how much would you like?" Draco asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I would love to get a raise for a million dollars," Y/n replied jokingly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Draco's clothes were tidy, except for his tie, which hung loose on his body. His hair was ruffled as usual, and his piercing blue eyes were fixated on Y/n

He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her, even for a moment.

“Uhm, I wanted to ask you something, Draco”

Draco's eyes scanned Y/n as he asked, "Sure, what is it?" His gaze was intense, and she found herself momentarily lost in his piercing blue eyes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Y/n's question hung in the air, the tension palpable between her and Draco. Finally, he responded, his voice calm and measured.

“I haven’t been avoiding you, Y/n”

Draco diverted his gaze from Y/n to the rings adorning his hand. His fingers mindlessly played with the silver rings.

"Yes, you have, and I have noticed it. After the night we talked, you have been avoiding me. I don't understand why," Y/n said in her honey-sweet voice as she rested her hands on the table in front of her.

"You really want to know why I have been avoiding you, Y/n?" Draco said as he stood up from his chair and walked towards her

His hands were still tucked inside his pockets, and his icy blue eyes were now fixated on her.

“Yes, I do” Y/n said, her gaze lifted to meet Draco’s who now stood right in front of Y/n

"I've been avoiding you because around you, I feel different, almost like I cannot breathe when you aren't near me, you make me feel things Y/n, things I was sure I would never feel in my entire life" He paused for a moment, his eyes searching hers.

"You opened something in me that makes me never want to stop. I can't control myself when I'm near you," Draco said as he rested his forehead against Y/n's.

She could feel their breaths syncing together, and her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"What makes you think you should stop feeling them?" Y/n asked softly, keeping her hands on Draco's face and caressing his cheek gently with her thumb.

He stood up, straightened his tie, and cleared his throat. "You should leave." His voice was firm.

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Y/n informed Sarah about the progress with Draco, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had towards him in that moment in his cabin. It wasn't something she had ever anticipated – the pure and raw feeling of love that she felt towards him, the way her body reacted every time he was near, and the knowledge of what Draco felt about her. It wasn't according to plan, and it ruined her.

All she could think about was the way she craved to just kiss him and know the taste of his mouth, how she wanted to feel his mouth over hers, she wanted to let him ruin every part of her.

But all these thoughts, these feelings she had to ignore because in this job, there was no room for any sort of distraction, no matter what she really felt, she knew in the end it had to go down by her having to kill him, she had no idea how she would even bring up the courage to do that, but she had to, there was no other choice.

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There was a meeting set up by the manager regarding the issue with the server, all the employees had to attend including Alex, who was hosting the meeting.

Everyone was assembling in the meeting hall when Y/n suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Guys, have any of you seen my phone?" she asked, looking around at her friends.

“No Y/n, did you leave it at your cabin?” asked Claire, after which Y/n’s eyes widened with realization

“Oh you are so right, thank you so much Claire, what would I do without you!” Y/n said and sprinted towards her cabin where she found her door open.

In sat someone dressed in a dark shade of black, Y/n's instincts kicked in and she reached for a spare piece of glass that she kept on the shelf next to the door. She held it tightly in her hand as she cautiously approached the stranger.

“Relax Y/n, I didn’t know you didn’t like people entering your cabin without your knowledge” said Draco who spun the chair around and stood up

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, keeping the piece of glass on her desk.

“I could ask you the same question” Draco replied as he made two long stride towards her and was now directly in front of her

“To begin with, this is my cabin and secondly, don’t you have a meeting to host?” Y/n asked, lifting her gaze to meet his.

However, Draco's face gave nothing away – not a hint of emotion that she could make out.

“I do, but the meeting’s second priority at the moment” Draco said as he suddenly grabbed Y/n by the throat and pulled her closer to him. His face was now just inches away from hers.

“You can do better” Y/n responded with a tiny smirk playing on her lips and without missing a beat she quickly swapped Draco's hand from her throat to her hand on his throat, while her other hand held onto his shoulders.

Draco looked impressed, and in an instant, Y/n's lips were on Draco's, both their bodies and lips moving in sync

Draco’s hands were fixed on Y/n’s waist, pressing it just slightly enough to keep her steady while Y/n’s lips were all over Draco’s, exploring his entire mouth with her tongue while holding Draco’s throat tighter and tighter with every movement of their lips

Y/n was intoxicated, unable to stop even at her own will, she knew this was wrong, she wasn’t supposed to be so engrossed, so mesmerized by him but at that moment she didn’t care, after all its just all going according to plan

Draco’s lips trailed down Y/n’s face to her neck leaving behind hot and steamy bites all over. The room was absolutely silent except for the occasional noises from the floors above but Y/n’s cabin was echoing with Y/n’s pleas of pleasure and ragged breathing

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“That is amazing news Y/n!” squealed Sarah, she sounded almost excited about what happened between Y/n and Draco

“We’re so close to this mission being a success, but there’s a few changes to our plan” Sarah spoke

“I really damn hope there is no change about the money we agreed on” Y/n said as she sat down on her bed in her apartment

“No of course not, its about the execution of the plan, since Malfoy isn’t a person who would share business secrets with his love interest” Sarah took a pause and giggled to which Y/n rolled her eyes, “You will have to just kill him and collect all his documents in from his cabin”

“But, won’t that make it even more suspicious? The manager is killed in his own cabin, and right after that an employee resigning, the cops would be in my ass” Y/n said

“Don’t have to worry about that, we have bribed cops to stay away from any case related to the manager of Reign of Fire, just do your job and make sure no one catches you killing him” Sarah replied with a stern tone.

“Yeah, sounds easy enough” Y/n said, “But it would take me some more time to plan out how I will be killing him”

“Sure Y/n, but you do have only a few more weeks” Sarah said.

“I’ll do it” Y/n said as she looked at the mirror beside her bed where she saw the hickeys that trailed down till her chest, the marks were still as new as ever

She hung up the phone and traced them with her fingers while all the memories of her steamy encounter with Draco flashed through her eyes, it didn’t feel forced, it felt easy, like breathing for the first time

This was the only mission where she felt this way. For Y/n, killing was a piece of cake and she could care less about the person she was killing but, for the first time in her entire life she felt as though killing Draco would be a challenge for her

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Y/n was in her office once again, she sat in her cabin while her fingers mindlessly typed the codes and solutions on her keyboard as her thoughts were consumed by the plan she had to kill. Draco Malfoy

But her mind was not focusing on the codes she was typing or the plan she had to make; instead, her mind wandered off to the thoughts of what she would say to Draco when she met him, after what had happened between them.

What the fuck am I thinking of?

I need coffee

Y/n then stood up and rushed to go to the cafeteria of Reign of Fire to grab a hot espresso to clear off these unwanted thoughts of Draco and focus on the plan she had to execute

After getting her cup of espresso, Y/n started walking towards her cabin when suddenly a hand grabbed her around her waist and spun her into the nearest corner of the hallway

“WHO THE FU-” before Y/n could finish her sentence a hand went over her mouth muffling her voice as Y/n’s Y/e/c eyes met icy blue storms

“Shh now, we don’t want to create a scene over here” Draco’s soothing and masculine voice spoke as he gently removed his hand from over Y/n’s mouth

“Draco, you scared me” Y/n whispered

“Sorry love, didn’t want to scare you”

That one word left Y/n speechless, the air from her lungs left and words were stuck in her throat.

No one had ever made Y/n feel so, different it was a very foreign feeling for her, she had never felt whatever he was making her feel

“What happened? I thought you-” Draco spoke as he was interrupted

“Nothing, just recovering from your horrible jump scare” Y/n said as she chuckled

“I wanted to ask, if you’re free after 6” Draco said as he removed his hands from her waist and stood up straight

“Well yes I am, but why?”

“I’m taking you out somewhere”

“Where?”

“Its a surprise, now are you free after 6 or not?”

“It would’ve been a yes if you hadn’t scared me”

“I’ll pick you up at 7, don’t be late”

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Y/n looked stunning in her elegant black dress that draped just above her knee. The dress was quite expensive, she had bought it for a masquerade party hosted at her previous office.

The doorbell rang in her apartment and as she opened the door she saw Draco Malfoy, he was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo and wore his rolex watch on his right hand with a charming smile on his face

“Just wait here, I’ll be ready in 5 minutes” Y/n said as she let Draco in and went inside her room to wear her earrings

Y/n put on her earrings and gave her makeup a final touch before exiting her room. As she stepped out, she noticed Draco's piercing blue eyes scanning her from top to bottom with a glean in his eyes.

“You look beautiful love” he spoke as he stood up from the sofa and the two exited the apartment where Draco’s porsche waited.

From the apartment to the whole journey to the restaurant, Draco’s gaze never left her

The dinner was delicious but more than the food, the ‘date’ Draco had taken her on was extraordinary.

The two of them talked about everything under the moon, and Y/n was amazed to see a side of Draco she never thought existed.

She had always known him as a cold-hearted person, but he had let his guard down and talked to her so easily.

As the night came to an end, the two once again shared a kiss. It was different from their previous ones, as this one was not desperate but rather sweet and loving.

Y/n couldn't believe that she was using the word 'loving' to describe a kiss.dracoslittleangel

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“Y/n, today is the day” Sarah’s message pops up on Y/n’s phone and for about half an hour she had been staring at the message like a slap on the face.

She was dreading for this day to come, according to Y/n’s ‘plan’ Draco was officially whipped for her and would not suspect a thing she would do behind his back,

Y/n had already after a few dates with Draco given information to Sarah about Reign of Fire’s secrets but it was officially the day she had to end it all.

And she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She didn’t want to admit it, but deep down Y/n had fallen for the blonde, whether it be for his undeniable beauty or his charming personality, Y/n had in fact fallen in love with Draco Malfoy.

And she had no choice but to end it all

Y/n picked up the gun she had lying in her bedroom drawer since the day she shifted there and finally, the gun was going to be used, for doing something she will dread for the rest of her life

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Y/n entered Draco’s cabin, the manager’s cabin, she knocked on the door three times with a pause after each one, it was a secret code the two had created

“Come in” his husky and low voice spoke and Y/n couldn’t help but feel guilt all over her body

She entered the cabin and could feel the gun cold in her coat pocket, her hand went inside her pocket and felt the gun sitting there, waiting to be used to brutally murder the man she loved

It dawned on her that she was going to have to kill Draco and feel all the guilt of hiding so many secrets from him, hiding things from the man she loved and having to live with that guilt forever

Even in her dreams she could never kill Draco, it had only been a few months since she started developing feelings for this man but even within such less time she got to know this man for who he really was and not what he portrayed other people to perceive him as

“Hello love” said Draco, he looked at her as though they were about to share a loving moment with one another, who would’ve thought that this moment would be ruined by one betraying the other

“Hello darling” Y/n said, her voice low and not the same energetic or snarky but rather dim and lost of its essence

“Before you say anything, I have a present for you” Draco said as he opened his drawer and took out a velvet box and placed it on the desk, “Open it” he insisted

“Sure” Y/n said with a small smile and opened the box, inside which was a beautiful pink diamond necklace, one of the most rarest types of diamonds and would’ve costed a shit ton of money

“You really shouldn’t have Draco” Y/n says, as she admired the diamonds on the necklace

“You deserve the world love, let me put it on you” Draco says as he comes closer to her, removing the diamond necklace from the box and putting it around her neck

“I love you, you do know that right?” Y/n asks, as her hand pushes her hair to the front so Draco could put the necklace on her

“I know” Draco says as he pauses, holding the necklace right around Y/n’s neck

“Love, can I ask you something?” Draco asked

“Sure”

“How much were you paid for killing me?:

silence

Y/n's face turned pale as she stood motionless, unable to believe her ears. Had she heard him correctly? Or maybe she might have misheard him, there was no way.

“What?” Y/n choked out.

“How much were you paid for killing me?” Draco repeats himself as with one hand he pulls out the gun from Y/n’s coat pocket

“Draco let me explain-”

But there was no explaining left to do

Draco knew everything all along

"Y/n, what would you take me for, a fool? I was suspicious of you from the moment you joined Reign of Fire, and I did some digging and found out everything about you." Draco said as the necklace around Y/n’s neck grew tighter and tighter

There was nothing left to do, Y/n’s hand instinctively went on to grab the necklace and try and release her from his hold

“D-Draco, please I-I wasn’t going t-to” Y/n tried speaking but Draco didn’t stop

The necklace kept getting tighter and tighter until there was no room for Y/n to breath, she tried kicking him, punching him, anything to release herself from his grip but nothing would work

“I checked your chats with your manager, what’s that bitch’s name? Aha Sarah” Draco spoke as he strangled Y/n with the diamond necklace, because of which there were cuts on her neck and blood oozed from her neck

Y/n’s vision started blurring and she tried speaking, fighting for whatever was worth but she grew tired, her mouth went dry and body went limp, and all she managed to speak out “Bastard” after which everything went black.

Y/n’s now limp body fell to the floor and Draco swiftly removed the necklace from her neck and placed the bloody necklace back in the box he took it from and placed it inside his drawers.

Straightening his coat he then signaled for someone to come in the cabin

“Alex, clean up this mess”

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Tags- @blackthunder137 @miss-celestial-being @itchywitch33 @nicofiliac @roguecheneyswife @steveslittlesunflower @slythermuf @cait2212 @crisppudge @draco-spencers-girl @tsukibaby1 @dracoslittleangel @enchatedforever @gacha_bella23 @raajali3 @lazydreamer19 @zmxchs @ravenqueen777 @tinafuentes @pascalshearts @kash2 @kash77 @angelxanastasia @horneybeach1 @bchanslvr

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[random-of-random]

Can I Save You?

Chapter 4: You’re Dead

The officers crossed the bridge and were in the city with no problem. Patricia was right. They had been going into the city so much that the men didn’t bother checking the ID’s. The trucks pulled up to the same little grocery shop. However, now the only food they had was currently on the truck. Patricia went behind the counter followed by Jones and two other special forces agents.

"Do you have ID's?"

"Of course not." Jones said stubbornly.

"Then how can we trust you?" Another cop said.

“Because I vouch for him.” Patricia called, but the men just kept arguing. Annoyed, Patricia just watched the exchange in silence, standing beside Blake.

"We just have to trust each other." It was commissioner Gordon. A few more exchanges occurred. It wasn’t getting them anywhere.

"Commissioner." Patricia said shaking his hand.

"Miss Robertson. I've heard good things about you." He said with a kind smile.

"There's someone you guys have to meet. Then you'll understand our situation." Blake said. The four officers followed Blake to a downtown library. The streets seemed panicked, more than usual. The normal patrols of Bane’s men had lessened considerably. The library itself looked like a homeless shelter. Barrels of fire kept the few inhabitants warm, and the books seemed to be their fuel.

"I found them living up here." Blake said as they entered another part of the library.

"Who?" Jones asked.

"The board of Wayne Enterprises." He said walking a head of them. He nodded to a cop who let them enter an elevator. Patricia recognized the people sitting on the ground in front of them. Lucius Fox and Miranda Tate. Another shiver went up Patricia's spine as she saw Miranda. Why couldn't she place her? She came back to the conversation.

"As CEO of Wayne Enterprises we have to take full responsibility." Miranda was saying.

"Why?" Jones asked.

"We built it." She replied.

"You built a nuclear bomb?" Jones asked, shocked.

"We built a device for clean energy." Lucius started to say. Patricia's eyes scanned the room, looking at all the people living in this space. A far cry from their upper west side apartments. She caught the gist of the conversation and the main problem: The bomb was going to go off, no matter what, in twenty-three days unless the nuclear core was hooked back up to the reactor.

"Hey." Jones touched Patricia's arm. "We have to head back and regroup."

"I'll stay here with Blake." Patricia said quickly. They headed out through the elevator. The doors barely closed when someone started firing. Immediately Blake and Patricia had guns out.

"Someone sold us out. Let's go." He grabbed Miranda.

"I have to go back for Jones and the others." Patricia said, she headed for the elevator and ducked in, narrowly avoiding a bullet. She heard commotion and screaming, and her mind wondered who would have sold them out. Everyone there has just as much to lose as everyone else. The elevator came to a stop and she heard the ding as the doors opened.

There he was. Bane was kneeling on Jones neck. The other two special forces officers were dead.

"The board of Wayne Enterprises was living upstairs." She heard a man say to Bane. She held up her gun and walked out of the elevator. Immediately 5 guns were on her. Bane stood up, Jones was dead.

"Hang these men for the world to see." He said before turning toward her. Everything seemed to slow down. Patricia could hear her heart beating in her ears as their eyes connected. A looked of genuine shock ran over his face.

"Wait." He called when one man was about to fire. Bane walked toward her. "I know you."

"I knew you." She whispered. "You've changed your mask." His eyes were wide. She had a gun pointed at his heart.

"You're dead." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm very much alive." She said carefully.

"Sir." One of his men called. He turned and in a split second she dove out the window. Landing on pavement she rolled and turned around. Bane was staring at her, an expression of profound sorrow on his face. She ran. Ran as fast as she could. Back to the same little grocery store. Blake, Gordon, and Miranda was already there.

"We thought we lost you." Gordon said before hugging her. She couldn't talk. Her heart was still pounding. He was still in there. She was prepared to see a cold, heartless shell of what Dominic once was, but she didn't.

"What happened?" Blake asked. He could tell something was wrong.

"Jones and the others are dead, killed by Bane and his men." She replied. Her voice shaking.

"How did you get out?" Miranda asked.

"I jumped out a window." Patricia replied, not looking at her. "What's the plan?"

"We're going to mark the truck containing the bomb." Blake answered. "I also think I've found a way to start getting men out of the sewers." He laid out a plan involving one of the cities sewer drains and a bomb. The guards would just have to be distracted. Patricia looked on and nodded when appropriate, but her mind was somewhere else. For years she had been studying the awful things Bane had done. Things that Dominic never would have. She made her mind focus on the task a head of her. If she let herself feel everything she had stored up, she wouldn’t be able to move, let alone fight.

"We only have a few days left and Lucius Fox has been kidnapped. Let's get get some rest. There is nothing more that we can do tonight." Gordon said calmly. "We'll meet here tomorrow. Miranda you and Blake come with us." Gordon and Blake brought the girls to a small apartment. Miranda immediately took a shower, but Patricia sat staring out the window.

"What's on your mind?" Blake asked, sitting next to her.

"Bane's eyes." She answered truthfully.

"Excuse me." Blake said, shocked.

"I've studied Bane for a long time. I expected to look at him and see nothing but hatred and evil."

"You didn't?"

"It's complicated, John."

"Why don't you tell me?" Patricia heard the shower shut off.

"Another time, when only your ears can hear." She stood up. "Please don't tell anyone about this." Blake nodded. Her dreams where plagued by his eyes, the pain in his eyes. He had thought she was dead. Why would he have thought that? Movement in the other room caught her attention. She grabbed her gun and moved silently. She saw Miranda trying to open the front door.

“What are you doing?” Patricia asked, making Miranda jump.

“I was trying to get some fresh air.” She replied.

“Open a window then.” Patricia was in no mood for games. “I can’t have you risking everyone’s safety just to get some air.”

“Of course, you’re right.” Miranda agreed. She quickly passed Patricia and closed the door to her room. Gordon was sleeping on the couch.

“Gordon.” Her voice was soft. He opened his eyes before reaching for his glasses.

“Is everyone ok?” He asked quickly.

“Everything is fine. I can’t sleep. Why don’t you take the bed, I’ll stay on the couch.”

“I couldn’t allow you to do that.” He said sincerely.

“Now is not a time for chivalry, sir. You’re still healing and I’m not sleeping. Go a head.” He smiled at her and she suddenly remembered the family in the DC airport. The kids looked like him. It must have been his wife and children. She decided to keep it to herself. Gordon’s mind needed to not be reminded of the loves he might never see again. Although, with the look in his eyes she could tell that his family was all he could think about.

“Thank you, Patricia.”

“Have a good sleep sir.” She said as she leaned back against the couch. She slipped her gun under the pillow and stared out a window, hoping for sleep that wasn’t likely to come. She was going to see another sunrise, and she wondered if he was still awake. If he was seeing the same sunrise.

————-

She was alive. Alive. Bane was pacing back and forth. Miranda had said she was dead. Why would she say that? She was alive, beautiful and alive. He was hoping for Miranda’s call, but it never came.

“Sir.” One of his men walked into the room. “I have those papers you asked for.”

“Go on.” Bane permitted. He had slowed his walking and made sure his voice was steady, he didn’t want to appear out of control.

“Patricia Robertson is an agent for MI6 in England.” He started.

“MI6. Well, she’s done well for herself.” He paused. “Continue.”

“She is the head of an anti-terrorism task force sir. Actually, it’s primary goal is finding you.”

“Is that right?” He allowed himself a small smile. “Thank you. Leave the papers.” The man was quickly out of the room. After all that time she didn’t stop looking for him. Now here she was. He would have given anything to hear her voice again, feel the touch of her hand again. Now it wasn’t just a dream, a wish that could never come true. She was in Gothem, in the city he was about to destroy. Miranda would know what to do. He had to put his faith in Miranda.

—————

Patricia took to walking the streets during the days. Walking in shadow she avoided the soldiers, unsure if Bane would have warned them about her. However, the ones she did meet regretted it. She wondered if some of the stories got back to Bane. The woman walking the streets, stealing food from Bane’s men for children, sometimes killing others. Checking homes had become second nature to her, relocating those they had hidden and saving anyone innocent she could had become what she did. She left Gordon, Blake, and Miranda to find her own way around the city. When it came time to get the citizens out, she wanted to know her way around, every exit every street. She knew there would be no time for confusion. Almost all technology had been blocked. Any use of a cell phone would bring soldiers to you location almost instantly or the phone would be immediately turned off. They're we're stuck. It had come down to a day and the army didn't realize the bomb was going off either way. A silver car pulled up and John got out of the car as soon as he saw her.

“Patricia!” His voice was panicked. Blake was running toward her, sweat on his brow.

“What’s wrong?” She asked quickly.

“They got Gordon, Miranda, and a lot of the cops.”

“How?!”

“We were marking the van, which we did.” He caught his breath. “I was watching from a fire escape and a bunch of Bane’s men surrounded them.”

“Ok, just keep calm. How long do we have?” She asked and he looked at his watch.

“A little more than 20 hours.” He replied.

“Ok, you get started on getting those cops out. I’m going to start rounding up as many people as possible and we’re going to try to get people out of here.”

“Meet me in about 12 hours, I’ll need your help to get those men out.” He took off and hopped into his car. Every person that dared come out in the streets, Patricia sent right back. She told them to pack a few things and be ready to leave tomorrow. She came across one man. His face was unshaven and he was carrying a bag on his back.

“Sir..” Patricia called, picking up the pace to meet him. She recognized his face almost immediately. “Mr. Wayne.”

“You shouldn’t be on these streets.” He said quickly, trying to move around her. Patricia cut him off.

“I’m sorry sir, but you shouldn’t be on these streets.”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Patricia Robertson, MI6.”

“You’re a long way from home.” He stared at her, almost making her uncomfortable. “I remember you.” He said quietly, studying her face. “You were younger then though.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Wayne, I don’t...”

“I pulled you out of a sea.” Her eyes widened. A blurry memory came into focus. A much younger Bruce Wayne, saving her life.

“You...”

“I’m glad to see you’ve fully recovered, and flourished.” He commented. “Why are you in Gotham?"

"Tracking Bane."

"It doesn't surprise me that MI6 would have a hand in this." He smiled and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Why were you there, Mr. Wayne. Crossing the Red Sea?"

"I was coming home from a long journey." He adjusted the strap on his bag. "Why were you there, floating?"

"I was looking for a friend. That apparently got in the way of someone else's plans." She remembered. Her body was still not fully recovered, it would never be.

"You were pretty beat up. Did you find your friend?"

"No." She said quickly. Bruce could see her eyes turn dark. "I don't know if I ever will again."

"You'd be surprised what the future holds in store for most people." He started walking past her. "Be safe, Miss. Robertson."

"You as well, Mr. Wayne." Watching him turn a corner, she knew that he was nothing like anyone really thought. The sun began to set on Gotham, possibly the last night Gotham would ever see.

The wind picked up and Patricia hugged her jacket close to her and rounded a corner, but she stopped dead in her tracks. His eyes were burning into hers.

[you-know-that-i-caught-it]

IF I WAS STANDING THERE IN YOUR APARTMENT ID TAKE THAT BOMB IN YOUR HEAD AND DISARM IT ID SAY I LOVE YOU EVEN AT YOUR DARKEST AND PLEASE DONT GO

[pronouncingitwang]

[ID: 28 gifs from Severance of Ms. Cobel in different scenes. In them, she says

[to Mark] Congratulations. A handshake is available upon request.

[about Mark] Look, I do sympathize. I've wanted to pummel Mark myself, but I am his employer.

[throws an object at Mark's head] What I just did was something I knew that you could handle and grow from. It was very painful for me.

[Mark, leaving, asks about Cobel's door, "Open or closed?"] Both.

If you want a hug go to hell and find your mother.

[as Mrs. Selvig, to Mark] I'm experimenting with chamomile, so no hard feelings if you gag.

[as Mrs. S to Mark] Well, come by the shop, okay? I'll give you a mugwort bath bomb that'll make you sleep like a rag doll.

[as Mrs. S] My late husband was a carpenter, and before he passed, he said he would start building us a house in the hereafter. And there would be a small guest apartment in the back, in case I found a new man before I got there. He even drew blueprints, which I keep in my purse.

[spying on Mark] Are you alright?

[breaks into Mark's house and sniffs his stuff]

[as Mrs. S, standing in the snow] You're out early in all this snowiness. You usually dispose of your waste in the early afternoon. Jack Frost certainly needs some new dandruff shampoo.

[as Mrs. S, with a hairdryer] Mark, I'm sorry for the racket! I'm just deicing my stoop.

[clutching her breast and swinging around] Yes, like an angry fire hose. Pssshhhh psssshhh.

[taking a baby doll she had at her breast and flinging it to the couch] Now you try!

[Graner asks Cobel, who's in her nursing outfit, "...What the fuck are you wearing?"] I was doing some private research.

[to Graner] Yes, Daddy.

[Natalie tells Cobel, "The Board would like you to speak first.] Oh, yes. Of course. Salutations.

[laughs for 15 seconds straight] Oh, Mark. I don't know how you knew for the end of the quarter I wanted a heart attack.

[distressed] Oh, fuck off, Natalie.

[screaming while driving] Fuck her goddamn soul forever into hell! Filth and fucking fire until she fucking dies! Fuck her and her fucking fake smile!

[disheveled, as Mrs. S] You know, maybe I could drive my own car. Yes! And that way I could leave if I'm uncomfortable or afraid.

[leaning over Mark's shoulder, as Mrs. S] Can I look at her book too? I can crane.

[on the phone] I'll take care of Helly. I'll fix it like I fix everything.

[running out of her car, which keeps moving forward without a driver and an employee running after it] ["forgets" handbrake to crash a party]

/end ID]

Patricia Arquette as HARMONY COBEL / MRS SELVIG in SEVERANCE S1 (2022-)

[nicholasnelsons]

forever winter (taylor’s version) hits extra hard knowing that buck is there on the floor with eddie as he sobs huh

[biaswreckingfics]

Transcendent

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, Angst, Fluffy ending

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: You are born with the first words you ever hear your soulmate say permanently marked on your arm, but what happens when your soulmate turns out to be your best friend’s boyfriend and neither of them are willing to end the relationship? Find out in Transcendent.

Soulmates.

The concept of soulmates was kind of funny to you.

The idea that there was one person out there for everyone on a planet filled with billions of people, and you were somehow supposed to find them during a short human lifespan, was wild.

Of course, some people believed in fate and thought that the universe would pull the two souls in the right direction so they could find each other. You didn't know if you believed in that, but something was out there making it happen because you had seen soulmates finding each other with your own eyes.

It was a weird sight to witness. They would be standing there talking to someone or quietly walking by themselves when they would just stop like they were frozen in time. A slow turn would come to reveal their other half and the change that overcame the two individuals was undeniable.

It was ineffable.

There wasn't a physical change that you could see with your eyes, but something shifts within each person, and you always wondered what that was like.

You had always wondered what it would be like to find the one who was meant for you. The one who would be your other half. You didn't want to be one of those people who gushed over their soulmates and constantly talked about the day you would meet them, but your friends knew how badly you wanted to meet your soulmate.

They would catch you running your fingers over the light tattoo on your inner forearm that everyone was born with in curiosity, but you didn't want to make too much of a big deal about it. They knew a part of you yearned to meet the person who would understand you like no one else, and they all wanted that for you.

That didn't mean all of your friends were on the same page as you. Sure, there were some who were, but others wanted to live in the "now", and of course, you didn't blame them.

Nobody knew when they would meet their soulmate, and you understood them wanting to find happiness with another partner in the present, instead of waiting for the future. You had also dated around here and there, but it had never felt right to you. It always felt bland and less colorful than you had hoped.

Your best friend was one of those people who wanted to live in the "now". The ones who hopped into relationships knowing their soulmate was out there probably searching for them without a care.

She had been in five different relationships over the years that you would consider to be somewhat serious, but you were always the first to know and she would share every little nauseating detail with you. That's why you were shocked when she called you to gush about her new boyfriend of a month.

How had she managed to go an entire month without telling you about this mysterious man she was falling for? Where did she even meet him, and why did she wait so long to tell you about it?

"I know he's not my soulmate, Y/N, but he's... perfect."

You quietly sit there and take in Mijung's words in slight disbelief. The two of you have been best friends for well over a decade, and you knew that while Mijung liked to jump into new things, she tended to get over them relatively quickly. It was stunning how much she seemed to be into this guy.

"How come I'm just now hearing about him?" You ask curiously.

Mijung is silent for a good minute and you wonder if she even plans on answering you. "I knew you wouldn't completely agree with our relationship... especially when I tell you how different this one seems..."

The seriousness of her tone catches you off guard. You have never heard Mijung this serious about a guy, and you had to admit, a small part of you was starting to get worried. If they cared about each other this much already... What will they do when they meet their soulmates?

"What's different about this one?"

Mijung takes a deep breath like she's preparing to launch into all the reasons he's so much better than the rest. "At first, we were just having fun. Nothing too serious because we knew we weren't each other's soulmates... but then it just naturally grew into something more. Maybe it's all in my head, but I feel some type of pull towards him, and I know it's quick, but I love him."

Your mouth drops open in shock at her admission, but before you can fully process what she's telling you, she continues to drop another bomb on you.

"What if there has been some type of mistake? What if we were supposed to be soulmates instead?"

You pull your phone away from your ear to check that you are really talking to your best friend. When you do in fact see her contact ID, you bring it back to your ear in confusion. You've never heard your friend talk like this. Ever.

"Mijung... That's never happened before. You know there are no mistakes when it comes to the soulmate tattoo."

"I know, but - "

"Mijung." You unapologetically cut her off.

She sighs loudly in your ear before relenting. "I know... I know the tattoo is never wrong, and I know we're not soulmates... I just wish we were."

"What are you going to do when one of you finds your soulmate?"

Her silence on the other end lets you know you're not going to like whatever she has to say. Whenever Mijung is silent, you know it's because she doesn't want to admit something to you.

"We want to be together. No matter what." She finally says with determination. "If one of us happens to find our soulmate... It's not going to change anything."

You blink a few times, taking in what she's telling you. Now it all made sense why she was hesitant to say anything. She knew you wouldn't agree with ignoring your soulmate when you found them. That wasn't how society worked.

Everyone waits for the day they meet their soulmate. The day colors seem more vibrant and sounds seem more celestial. The day everything in your world clicks into place... and they were just willing to ignore it? To let both of their soulmates go on without them because they thought they wanted to be together instead?

"So, you're just going to say, 'screw your soulmates'?"

She sighs heavily. "Look, I know you're excited to meet your soulmate, but I'm happy with Yeosang. We're happy, and we want to stay together."

When you stay silent, she lets out yet another sigh. "Please, don't be mad at me..."

"I'm not mad at you. You're both grown adults and you can do whatever you want. I don't agree with it, but I can't do anything to stop it, either, so..." You trail off, not sure what else to say at this point.

"Fair enough... but... how would you feel about meeting him?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please, Y/N." Mijung pleads. "I really want the two of you to meet! I know you'll both get along really, really well."

The excitement and happiness in her voice makes you feel slightly guilty for mentally shitting on their relationship.  If your best friend was happy... that was really all you could ask for.

As you agree to meet him, your eyes fall to the tattoo on your forearm. The words that you knew by heart staring back at you in a slightly lighter shade than your skin tone.

Once you hang up with Mijung, you lightly run your fingers over the words like you've been itching to do ever since you started talking about soulmates. The familiar phrase bringing a small smile to your face like it always does.

“It's freaking gray, you dolt.”

You had always wondered what type of conversation spurs those words on, and a twinge of excitement fills you when you think about the day you'll actually find out. The day you'll finally hear the first words of your soulmate.

You try not to get too lost in your imagination, and honestly, it's pretty easy to pull yourself out of it when you think about what Mijung had told you. Would the couple really say, "screw their soulmates" and stay together? Well... you guess you were just going to have to wait and see. Hopefully, for the sake of their soulmates... you never find out.

A few days later, Mijung is hosting a small get-together so her and Yeosang's friends could meet, and so you could finally meet the mystery man himself. She swore only a few people would be there besides you. Thankfully, your other best friend Yunho was going to be there, which was going to help calm your nerves and make you feel less anxious. Especially since Mijung warned you that Yeosang's friends could be a handful.

As soon as you woke up this morning, something felt different. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you knew, without a doubt, something was going to happen today. You just hoped it was something good.

With that in mind, you decide to dress up a little nicer today instead of your normal hoodie and yoga pants. You put on a cozy beige sweater and a pair of flattering skinny jeans that tucked into your brown booties perfectly. You spruced your hair up just enough that it looked like you actually attempted to make it look nice, but not enough that you looked like you were trying too hard. Adding a dainty gold necklace to complete the look, you were satisfied with what you saw in the mirror and quickly headed over to Mijung's.

Once you walk into her apartment, without feeling the need to knock since you were there almost as much as you were at home, you can hear booming laughter coming from the kitchen. You quietly close the door and take a moment to gather yourself before entering what already sounded like chaos.

The first person you spot when you round the corner is your tall, brown-haired, best friend Yunho. He notices you at almost the same exact moment and his eyes immediately light up while a giant smile grows on his face.

"Y/N!"

He strides over to you in two steps thanks to his long legs and pulls you into a tight hug. You welcome the hug from the giant puppy and feel some of your anxiety immediately disappear. If there was one thing Yunho was good at, it was making you feel safe and comforted.

"Hey, Yunho."

"Well... I don't have Yunho's name on my arm." You hear someone sigh from behind him.

A muttered “me either” has you pulling away from your friend and peeking around him. He moves out of the way and turns toward the two strangers in the kitchen with him.

Your eyes immediately fall on two ridiculously attractive black-haired males. One with full lips and a more hawkish nose and the other with small eyes and sharp cheekbones. When the latter smiles, two dimples appear on his cheeks, making him look younger than he did two seconds ago.

"Y/N, this is Wooyoung and San, Yeosang's friends." Yunho introduces you.

"Hi, I'm not your soulmate." The one who Yunho gestured was Wooyoung says.

The other one, San, side-eyes his friend before coming over to you and shaking your hand. "I'm also not your soulmate, but I'll at least be nice about it. My name is San."

"What did I say that was mean?" Wooyoung loudly asks.

As the two discuss what would and wouldn't be considered rude for a greeting at top volume, you glance over at Yunho in question. He nods his head, answering your unasked question.

"They've been like this since I got here."

Before you can respond, you hear Mijung ask the two bickering boys, "Why are you two like this?"

She enters the kitchen with the question and looks over at Yunho in exasperation. When she notices you, she lets out a high-pitched squeal that causes the two dark-haired boys to fall silent.

"You're here!" She happily says while bouncing over to give you a quick hug. "Let me go grab Yeosang real quick, so you can finally meet him!"

As she rushes out of the kitchen, you turn to Yunho and say, "She says so I can finally meet him like I didn't just learn of his existence a few days ago."

Yunho nods in agreement. "She just told me a week ago too."

Your head snaps up to the taller man in disbelief. "She told you first?"

A sheepish expression crosses his face as you mull over his words. You temporarily forget the other two are even there until San gets your attention.

"Yeosang's really nice. You'll like him. Though, he is pretty quiet sometimes, so you might have to pull the conversation out of him."

Wooyoung nods along, adding, "Don't let him fool you, either. He's a savage and will attack when you least expect it."

You hum in thought. Mijung was quite talkative, so you were sure the two balanced each other out in that way.

"Have you guys known him long?" Yunho asks.

"He's been my best friend for years. I probably know him better than anyone else." Wooyoung proudly tells the two of you.

You couldn't help but ask their opinions on your friend's apparent whirlwind romance. "What do you think about their relationship?"

Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders. "If they haven't found their soulmates yet, who cares?"

San glances at the wall across from him for a couple seconds before his eyes come back to you. "I don't think it's right. Especially when they say they're going to stay together regardless of what happens."

Yunho's eyebrows furrow and you figure this is the first he's hearing about this. Before you can ask him what he thinks, Wooyoung scoffs, pulling your attention back to him.

"No one can ignore the soulmate bond. It's over for them as soon as they meet their other half."

The sound of voices coming down the hallway instantly catches your attention. You easily identify Mijung's voice, but the other voice is too deep for you to understand right away.

For some reason, you tense up, but you don't notice until Yunho gives you a weird look. That's also when you notice that you're suddenly holding your breath for some reason. What was wrong with you?

"Are you colorblind, Yeosang? That's blue." You hear Mijung argue.

The most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard follows her words before you hear a deep voice that shakes you to your core.

"It's freaking gray, you dolt."

At that moment, your world stops. The sounds around you momentarily muffle before suddenly snapping back with a clarity. Their footsteps approaching you become louder and louder with each thud, and a sudden rightness settles into your bones as they get closer. Happiness floods you because you know, without a doubt, you just found your soulmate. Your other half. The person you'll have a connection with that transcends everything.

You feel Yunho bump into your arm and you look over at him in a daze, causing concern to grow on his face. His expression triggers something in your brain, and you're suddenly pulled from the moment when you realize what this means. You found your soulmate... and he was already claiming he never wanted to meet you. He didn't want to start a relationship with you because he wanted to continue being with your best friend, who was apparently in love with him.

With each step that comes closer to you, it gets harder to breathe. It feels like a hand is squeezing tighter and tighter around your throat, and your foggy brain beings to realize that you're panicking.

You had to get out of here. Now. You couldn't meet Yeosang because the second you spoke; the truth would be revealed. Not only would your best friend be devastated, but you would be outright rejected in front of everyone.

Your eyes flash back over to Yunho, who is quietly saying your name and asking if you are alright.

"I need to go."

Confusion flashes in Yunho's eyes. "What?"

"I have to leave." You repeat as you back away from him.

Even you can hear that your words sound desperate, and Yeosang's friends look over at you in confusion. You continue to back away from the three men who are watching you with either concern or like you were crazy.

A strong feeling tells you that Mijung and Yeosang are going to round the corner any second, so you turn and book it for her front door without a backward glance. You run away from her apartment like your life depends on it, and you don't stop until you're in the safety of your own.

Once you shut your apartment door, you lean back against it and try to take deep breaths to get some air back into your lungs. You thank everything in the universe that Mijung only lives five minutes away from you because you wouldn't have been able to go much farther.

You take a few more deep breaths to try to calm down, but you can feel yourself shaking. You don't know if you are shaking from adrenaline, shock, or fear, but you were sure it was a culmination of the three.

You had just found your soulmate. The only person in the world who is meant for you, but he is your best friend's boyfriend and she is apparently in love with him. Not to mention, he is willing to screw you over to be with her.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket and pull it out. You stare at your phone as you see Mijung's contact name blaring at you. There was no way you could talk to her right now. You didn't even know what the hell you would say to her in the first place. "Oh, hi.  I'm sorry for just running out like that. By the way, your boyfriend is my soulmate. Isn't that crazy?" Yeah, right.

You hold your phone in your hand until it goes to voicemail and the tiniest sense of relief fills you. You unlock your phone with a sigh and see several missed calls from Mijung and a couple from Yunho… How would you explain any of this to her?

You toss your phone toward your couch and your eyes catch a glimpse of your soulmate mark. The words you had heard Yeosang say not even half an hour ago. The words you were once so excited to hear, but now cause your heart to stutter in panic.

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

Over the next couple of weeks, Mijung tries a countless number of times to get you and Yeosang to meet, and every single time you came up with an excuse or a way to get out of it, just like the night you had found out he was your soulmate.

Once you had finally returned her multiple missed calls, you came up with the excuse that you had suddenly felt very nauseous and needed to leave. She thought it was a little odd but didn't question it too much.

That excuse could only work so many times, though, so you came up with many others like you had to work or your parents needed you for something, but you knew Mijung was suspicious of why you suddenly never had time. You knew your window of time was closing, and you would have to meet him eventually.

You wished you could say a part of you was surprised when Mijung ended up calling you out, but you knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Mijung wasn't the type of person to accept "no" as an answer, and certainly not as many times as you have said it. You were slightly surprised you got away with it as long as you had.

"I know you're avoiding meeting him, Y/N," she tells you through the phone. "So, you can stop giving me all of these excuses."

You can hear the irritation in her voice, and while a part of you feels bad, the other part of you doesn't. This wouldn't even be happening right now if her and Yeosang weren't being selfish and stubborn.

She sighs in your ear. "Is it because you don't agree that we should be together?"

"They're not excuses, Mijung," you lie through your teeth. "I've just been busy lately."

Her silence lets you immediately know she's not believing a word you say.

"Look, it's not like he's even met his stupid soulmate yet, anyway, so why does it bother you so much?"

Even though she didn't know it, her words were like a slap to the face, and you sat there in disbelief that your friend was behaving this way. You mentally scoff. His stupid soulmate was also her stupid best friend.

You take a deep breath before mumbling that you have to go and hang up the phone.

You knew you had two options. You could meet him and let the truth come out and bask in the awkwardness that will inevitably ensue... or you could stay away and willingly lose the friendship you had with Mijung.

You knew your friendship with Mijung was going to take a hit either way. She would either be hurt by the truth or she'd never forgive you for continuously avoiding meeting the person she was "in love with".

Both options had pros and cons, and there were things you needed to consider before you decided what you were going to do. If you decided to go and meet Yeosang, you would finally get to know what your soulmate looked like. You would finally know if he was short or tall, a manly man or a pretty boy, but you would also be rejected by the one person on this planet who was supposed to want to be with you.

The pro to the second option was avoiding hurting your friend while also avoiding the rejection they apparently were going to give you, but it also meant that you were willingly giving up your soulmate and your decade-long friendship with Mijung.

Neither option sounded appealing to you, and a part of you hated both of them for making you have to decide between a rock and a hard place. You didn’t want to give up your soulmate. You’ve been waiting for him nearly your entire life, but him wanting to ignore the bond was forcing you to make that decision anyway, and since rejection hurts a hell of a lot more than curiosity, you choose the latter.

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

For the next few weeks, you spend most of your time with either Yunho or by yourself. Once Mijung realized you were doing your best to never meet Yeosang, she obviously grew upset. In her eyes, you were mad about what her and Yeosang were doing, and you never bothered to correct her. It would be far worse for her to find out he was your soulmate than for her to think you thought they were being stupid. Which they were so it wasn't like she was far off.

After the first week, she had thankfully given up on trying to get the two of you to meet and has spent the last couple of weeks avoiding you like you were her. Of course, it hurt. It hurt to treat your close friend like this and to have her treat you like this, but it hurt more knowing that your soulmate was so close to you, yet so far away. You could live with losing Mijung’s friendship, but you weren’t sure you could continue ignoring your soulmate and letting him keep living in their lie. However, besides blowing up their relationship, there was nothing you could do.

Unfortunately, it was all going to come to a head, and quicker than you would've liked.

It was like the universe was determined to make you and your soulmate meet. If it hadn't been Mijung trying to consistently get you to meet Yeosang, it was Yunho begging you to hang out with the three of them, so he wasn't third-wheeling. If it wasn't that, it was apparently the three of you running into each other on the street, and this time, there was no escaping the inevitable.

You had been searching for a birthday present for Yunho when you decided that you needed a coffee, or you were going to collapse on the sidewalk.

Although you may have been dramatic with that statement, something inside of you did start to feel weird, but you couldn't place it. Something... something was going to happen, and soon.

You push the feeling to the side as you approach the entrance of the coffee shop. Once you got your dose of caffeine, you would figure out what this feeling was, but you had zero hopes of doing it right now.

As you go to reach for the handle, the door of the coffee shop pushes open toward you, and you quickly back away to avoid impact.

"Oh my god. I'm so sor... Y/N?"

Your body freezes once you place the voice, and your eyes slowly trail up and meet Mijung's. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly snap it shut once you take in the quiet presence next to her.

Your body and mind scream at you to look at the person next to her. To look at the man you had no doubt was Yeosang, and you try to fight it, but quickly realize there's no hope in fighting the inevitable. Slowly, you look over to the right and try to stop the gasp that leaves you.

Standing before you was a prince. There was no other way to describe him. He was ethereal, otherworldly. His skin was perfection. There wasn't a mark on it besides what looked to be a birthmark near his left eye that made him no less attractive. In fact, it added an allure to him that intrigued you beyond words. His pouty lips complimented his round cheeks in a way that made him seem softer, more delicate.

You meet his brown eyes as they stare at you curiously before you notice his brow furrow in confusion. A weird look crosses his face and that's when you know he can feel the pull because you can feel it too. It was like every fiber of your being wanted you closer to him, wanted you to unite with him.

You shake your head when you hear an "excuse me" and realize the three of you are still blocking the entrance to the coffee shop. You move away and back onto the sidewalk and the couple follows you, much to your dismay. You take in the look on Mijung's face and mentally prepare yourself for what was to come. She knew this was the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally meet.

"Y/N! I'm so glad we ran into you. I've been dying for you to meet Yeosang!" She says with a spark in her eyes that you can't interpret.

You glance over at him and he offers you a tight-lipped smile. "Hello."

Your eyes fall closed at this voice. It was deliciously deep and may be the most calming thing you've ever heard.

When you realize what you're doing, you snap your eyes open and offer him a small smile and nod. You were determined to not say anything. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in the middle of freaking town.

Mijung notices your lack of voice and you can see her frustration build, but you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for her. For both of you. The more you were in Yeosang's presence, though, the less you cared about their relationship.

Why were you so willing to let your soulmate go? Why didn't you deserve a little happiness for once?

Before Mijung can call you out on your behavior, the door to the coffee shop flies open and a group of teens come out, snagging your attention for a moment. You notice the one who opened the door with his back continue to walk backward, but you think nothing of it until he slams right into you.

He spins around in surprise at the collision and spills his warm coffee right onto you. You hear Mijung and Yeosang gasp, while you hiss in shock, expecting his coffee to be hot, but relax when you realize it's more lukewarm than anything. Thank god, because getting burned was not on your list of things to do today.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" The teenage boy panics.

He grabs napkins from his friend’s hand and begins wiping at the sleeve of your shirt. You look down at what he's doing and see a growing brown stain covering your sleeve. You appreciate his effort, but it's way too late to save it.

"I'm so sorry for ruining your shirt! I'll buy you a new one, I promise!" The boy shouts, still in full panic mode.

You grab his hands in an effort to calm him down, and to stop him from pulling at your shirt some more. You look him directly in the eyes and give him a small smile.

"It's an old shirt, anyway... and I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure? I'm so sorry..."

"Yes. I'm fine. It's not a big deal," you softly tell him.

The teenage boy looks at you like he's not sure if he should believe you before slowly nodding his head.

"I'm really sorry... again..." He tells you as he backs away from you. Realizing that's what got him into trouble the first time, he whips around and hurries after his friends.

You watch him go for a minute and sigh as you feel the liquid on your shirt become cold. Great. Now you were gonna have to... Your mind trails off as you begin to remember what was going on before the coffee incident. Shit...

You slowly turn to look at the couple next to you. Taking a deep breath, your eyes meet Yeosang's shocked ones as he searches your face in wonder.

"You're my soulmate..."

"Yeah..." you softly say.

A noise comes from next to you that snags both of your attention. You look over at Mijung, who was completely frozen beside Yeosang. Heartbreak and pain are clearly etched on her features as she takes in what's happening.

Yeosang looks between the two of you, confusion and sadness crossing his face as he tries to figure out what to do. You remember what Mijung had said when she was telling you about Yeosang. How he apparently didn't care if he found his soulmate and that he wanted to be with her.

A part of you wondered if that would change now that he met you. The soulmate bond was intense and everything in you wanted, needed, to be near Yeosang. Would he really try to ignore the soulmate bond? Did he still want to?

"You're his... That's why you've been ignoring me..."

"Mijung... I'm so sorry..."

"Are you?" She roughly asks while her eyes flash with anger. "You thought we were stupid for ignoring the soulmate bond. You probably think this is what I deserve, don't you?"

Your head jerks back like you've been slapped. "What the hell are you talking about? It's not like I planned this.

"Whatever," she spits before turning and nearly running the opposite way.

Yeosang continues to stand there for a moment, not knowing what to do. His eyes flit between you and Mijung's retreating figure. You see the longing in his gaze, but don't know who it's for.

His eyes fall close, and he takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he looks back at you.

"I'm sorry..."

Your heart stutters at those words, and you know exactly why he's saying them. He was going after Mijung. He was going to stay with her.

It feels like your heart cracks as Yeosang turns away from you. With each step he takes, it feels like it gets harder to breathe. A part of you likes to think that his slow movements are because he's feeling everything that you do, but you have no way to know for sure. You silently stand there alone as you watch the one person who's supposed to love you walk away.

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

The next couple of weeks pass by in a blur. You fall into a boring, consistent routine of work and home. The only other time you bothered to leave the house was to see Yunho or get groceries.

Life felt like it lost its sparkle ever since your soulmate left you, and it was easy to find yourself staring off into space for long amounts of time. You, also, often found yourself feeling anxious and even a little bit twitchy. Your body knew something wasn't right, and it didn't know what to do about it.

The first week was the hardest. The rejection was still fresh and the knowledge that your soulmate and best friend were together when they knew the truth, was like a slice to the chest.

Avoiding them was easy because they avoided you just as much. It was like they were pretending what they found out didn't happen. They were continuing to live in their fantasy world.

When you got a phone call from Mijung the following week, you were surprised. You weren't ready to talk to her. You didn't want to hear her apologies or excuses, so you ignored it, and the dozens of calls after that. You couldn't really be mad at Mijung for fighting for what she wanted, but that didn't mean you were ready to face her and go back to being normal again.

Yunho respected your thoughts and feelings and didn't try to force you to forgive her, especially when he found out the real reason behind your actions, which you were thankful for. To say he was shocked that Yeosang was your soulmate was an understatement, and he was just as upset with Mijung’s actions as you were.

However, Yunho was always quicker to forgive people than you were. He went back to hanging out with Mijung and Yeosang fairly quickly, and when he asked if you had talked to your soulmate, you were confused. How would you have talked to him? Why would he want to talk to you?

That was the part that hurt the most. Yeosang knew who you were, and he didn't want to do anything about it. He wanted to live in the fantasy world he and Mijung had created, and as much as you wanted to pretend you were okay with it, you weren't.

What would even happen when he and Mijung broke up? Did he think he could come crawling back to you? Finally give his soulmate a chance? You didn't want to be a second choice for anyone, especially your soulmate. No fucking way.

Also, how could you be with someone who was in love with someone else? Your best friend at that? How could you be intimate with someone who had been intimate with your best friend? Who had chosen her? Could you compete with that? With what they had? Did you even want to?

Not to mention, how could the three of you ever be in the same room together? Whether Yeosang was with her or with you? The awkwardness, guilt, and pain the three of you would feel was something you wanted to physically crawl away and hide from.

You pull yourself away from the horrifying and self-deprecating thoughts that were trying to penetrate your mind and look down at your phone with a sigh. Before you could even finish the thought about Yunho being late, the tall man rushes into the coffee shop, his eyes searching for you. Once he spots you, he books it for your table with an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry I'm late."

You regard him like you're annoyed, but you really aren't. "I'll forgive you if you buy me a muffin."

"Consider it done," he says, smirking at your ploy to get free food.

You silently watch as he gets up to order himself a coffee and you an apology muffin.

Yunho had asked you to go get coffee with him today because he had something he wanted to talk about with you. You weren't stupid. You knew he wanted to talk to you about Mijung, and his sudden request for a coffee date instead of hanging out at one of your apartments like you usually did, clued you in on it. Especially, when you knew he had hung out with Mijung yesterday.

For the next 30 minutes, you're able to avoid the topics of Mijung, Yeosang, and soulmates all together, but you know Yunho isn't letting you leave this coffee shop until he talks about whatever he wants to talk about.

"They broke up."

You pause with your coffee halfway up to your mouth as you process his words. He takes your actions as an encouragement to continue.

"They tried to make it work for a couple days, but neither of them could move past what happened... That's why Mijung has been calling you."

You clear your throat and put your cup back on the table. What were you supposed to say? That sucks? You're sorry they didn't work out? Because you weren't. Actually... you didn't know what you were.

"I don't really... know what you want me to say?"

Yunho sighs, "Mijung feels really guilty. She knew that you wanted to be with your soulmate... and she knew she was in the way of that..."

"So, she broke up with him?"

Yunho shakes his head no. "It was mutual. She felt guilty and Yeosang... well, Yeosang felt the change. I guess when they say something clicks into place, they're right... Yeosang wants to be with you, or at least get to know you..."

He pauses to take in your reaction, but you offer him nothing. However, he does sigh when he sees your cautious gaze. "I'm not trying to tell you what you should do here, but... he's your soulmate, Y/N. I know you, and I know you're not going to avoid your soulmate for the rest of your life."

You pick your cup back up and bring it to your lips as you avoid Yunho's eyes. He was right. You wanted that soulmate bond, and now that Mijung was out of the way, you could have it, but it still didn't sit right with you.

Once the lukewarm liquid goes down your throat, you ask, "What do you think I should do?"

"Talk to them," Yunho says without hesitation.

You sigh, "I don't know if I'm quite ready to talk to Mijung... and I don't even know how to reach Yeosang."

Yunho tilts his head as an odd look crosses his face. "Yeosang says he's tried calling you quite a few times."

Your brows furrow in confusion before it clicks into place. You had been getting calls from a number you didn't recognize, but you kept ignoring them because you didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. It had been Yeosang calling you this whole time? Why wouldn’t he leave a voicemail or send a text when you continuously didn't answer?

You ponder over what to do the entire trip home. Should you call Yeosang? Wait until he calls you again? What are you going to do about Mijung? You had almost left your coffee date with Yunho with more questions than you originally had, and now you were more frustrated than ever.

You continue to process everything you had learned as you trek up to your apartment. They had tried to make it work... Tried to be together knowing who you were... Mijung knew how much you wanted to be with your soulmate, and Yeosang felt the same things you did when he figured out who you were, but Mijung...

Mijung was standing right in front of you.

You pause in the middle of the hallway and eye Mijung while she stands next to your apartment door. The thought of making a quick escape and avoiding her fleetingly crosses your mind, but the option is quickly taken from you when Mijung's eyes spot you.

"Hey..." She starts, taking a step toward you before stopping.

You take in her twiddling fingers and anxious gaze. She's nervous to talk to you. She's scared you're going to freak out on her or slam the door in her face.

You take a step toward her, and then another until you're outside of your apartment door. Mijung bites her lip as she watches you, but you ignore her and open your door. You don't take a step inside, though. Instead, you wave your hand into your apartment as an "after you" gesture.

Mijung takes the hint, but before she steps all the way into your apartment, she pauses and turns to you. When she throws her arms around you in an awkward hug, you freeze, not expecting it.

"I'm so sorry..."

You bring your hand up and awkwardly pat her back. "Let's get into the apartment before we talk. My neighbors are nosey, and I don't want them to know what's going on."

Mijung nods and pulls away from you. Once you're free from her limbs, you shut your apartment door and walk towards your couch, knowing Mijung will follow you.

When you're both sitting down, Mijung immediately turns to you and picks up from where she left off. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have tried to continue a relationship with him after finding out you are his soulmate. That was such a shitty thing to do. I know how excited you were to be with your soulmate... but I just loved him. I didn't want to give him up… I was being selfish."

You slowly take in her words. "Believe me... Nobody expected this to happen."

She gives you a sad smile and the two of you fall into silence. You're not surprised when she breaks it because you didn't have much to say at the moment.

"You should call him."

You snap your head to look over at her. "What?"

"Y/N, he's your soulmate. You should be with him," she tells you through misty eyes. "He's a good guy and he deserves to be happy, and you're the one person on this planet that will make him happy. That will complete him."

Surprise floods you at her words. "But what about you?"

She looks away and sighs. "I'll meet my soulmate one day... Who knows? It could even happen tomorrow. Life is odd like that."

You give Mijung a confused look and wonder who the heck this person next to you is. Mijung wasn't wistful like this. She wasn't one to dream about her soulmate.

She looks over and catches the expression on your face, which causes her to laugh. "I know. Who am I? ...Things were great with Yeosang, and if being with your soulmate is even better? Then I want that. For both of us."

"Yeosang wanted to be with you, though... He knew who I was, and he still left with you," you quietly admit part of your fears.

A guilty look crosses her face. "That was... my fault... He didn't want me to be upset, and I was so bound and determined to say, 'screw soulmates', I don't think he even knew what to do. That's why he followed me..."

She pauses like she's working up the nerve to admit to something, and when she finally does, a sick feeling grows in the pit of your stomach.

"Yeosang wasn't the one who wanted to ignore our soulmates... That was all me, and I kept trying to push him into wanting the same thing as I did, but I knew that was over the second he saw you... He stayed with me for those couple of days because I begged him to... but he was different. I think he tried to hide how he was really feeling from me, but it was obvious he didn't want to be there anymore. He was mentally checked out. Distracted, distant, and overall, just sad. When he sat me down to talk, I knew what it was about. He wanted to pursue something with you. He couldn't be with me anymore."

So many thoughts swirled through your head, you didn’t know which one to focus on.

This entire time, you were under the impression that Yeosang didn’t want to be with his soulmate. That he wanted to be with Mijung, and he didn’t care if he met his soulmate or not… but that was all Mijung? It was Mijung’s idea to ignore soulmates? Did he even say those things or was it all just Mijung’s wishful thinking?

Also, they were only together for a couple of days? She begged him to stay with her? A part of you was so mad at Mijung. That she purposely ruined this for you and convinced your soulmate to stay with her. How could she do this to you? To Yeosang?

Then again, another part of you was elated. Yeosang wants to be with you. He’s always wanted to be with his soulmate. He’s even tried contacting you multiple times. He hadn’t really rejected you…

“Yeosang wanted to be with his soulmate?” You ask for clarification. When she meekly nods, you continue. “It was you alone saying, ‘screw soulmates’?”

“Yes… and it was me who tried to continue the relationship afterward. Yeosang’s just too good of a guy to kick me to the curb.”

You hum in thought because what are you supposed to say? If you let your true thoughts and feelings out right now, you might end up smacking Mijung for pulling something so disgusting. For trying to keep soulmates from coming together when they’re two people she claims to “love”.

“Y/N… he’s your soulmate… He wants to be with you, not me, and he always has. Plus, there’s a reason the universe wants the two of you together… so you should call him and meet up.”

Your head was extra fuzzy now as Mijung suggests you call Yeosang again. She had just dumped a shit ton of information on you and it was a lot to process. You were gonna need a clear head before you talk to him about any of this.

While you are trying to work through your inner turmoil, you don’t notice Mijung reaching for your phone until it’s too late. You look up in confusion as she jumps up from your couch. Her head is down as she furiously types something on what you come to realize is your phone.

Before you can jump up and snatch it back, she drops it into your lap with a smile. “This is just the start of me trying to make up for what I did.”

You watch in complete confusion as she makes a beeline for your door before looking down at your phone to see what she did. When you see that the call screen is up and your phone is currently in the process of calling someone, you panic.

You recognize that number. You’ve had multiple missed calls from that number the past couple of weeks.

A deep voice answers the phone and suddenly you forget how to breathe.

“Hello?”

You open your mouth to say something, but absolutely nothing comes out. You can hear Yeosang’s soft breaths as he waits for you to say something, but you can’t make yourself do it.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes fall closed as he softly says your name. You had never heard it sound more beautiful than in that moment. It was almost like a caress. You force your eyes open and take a deep breath. You had to say something before he hung up.

“Hey, Yeosang…”

It’s quiet for a moment before you hear, “It’s really good to hear your voice…”

“Yours too…” You let out a soft laugh. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

“Only if we let it be.”

The slight determination in his voice eases your anxiety. He was right. It was only going to be awkward if you made it that way. You take another breath.

“Would you like to meet up somewhere?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, almost before you can finish asking.

You hold back the laugh that wants to come out and suggest meeting at a park close to the coffee shop that you met at. Once Yeosang agrees, you hang up and feel the butterflies in your stomach start to crawl up your throat.

You are really going to do it. You’re going to meet up with your soulmate, and this time you don’t have to worry about anyone else, but the two of you.

You look down at the clothes you wore on your coffee date with Yunho and immediately get up to change. You quickly throw on a pair of your softest blue jeans and an off-the-shoulder long sleeve shirt. It was a comfy, casual look, and you didn’t look like a slob so that was good. Plus, the only other time he’s seen you, you had coffee all over your shirt, so this was a vast improvement.

You run your fingers through your hair to make it seem a little more put together and throw on some Chapstick before running for the door. The two of you decided to meet up right away, so you only had a few minutes to make yourself presentable, and this would have to do.

As you walk up to the park, your anxiety doubles and you let your thoughts consume you. Was this gonna be awkward? What were you going to say? What was he going to say?

When you step onto the path that leads into the park, it’s almost like your body knows exactly where to go before your mind does. You find yourself making a beeline for the bench that sat next to a beautiful stone fountain, and when you get there, you’re not surprised to see Yeosang already there waiting. A part of you knew he would be.

When you step up next to the bench, Yeosang turns to look at the sound and shoots up from his seat when he sees you, his eyes lighting up in excitement. A shy smile graces his face and you know a matching one is present on yours.

“You made it.” He happily says as he gestures for you to sit on the bench.

“I invited you here… Of course, I was gonna make it.” You softly laugh as you take a seat.

“Right…” he bites his lip for a moment as he settles back into his spot, “but it’s just nice to see you again.”

His eyes scan you from head-to-toe like he’s taking you in for the first time, and maybe he is. Considering how hectic it was the first time you met.

You meet his gaze and, as stupid as it sounds, the world stops. For one moment, you don’t hear the rustle of the trees, you don’t see the splashing of the fountain, you don’t feel the cold stone you sit on, all there is, is Yeosang and you. Suddenly, it’s like everything clicks into place, and that rightness you felt before settles deep into your chest. This is where you’re supposed to be. This is your person for the rest of your existence.

“Do you feel that?” He quietly asks in awe.

You almost couldn’t speak. It was like words evaded your mind and ceased to exist, but you somehow grasp onto some and are able to form a coherent sentence.

“The connection…” you trail off, nodding. “I never thought it’d be like this…”

It consumed you, and you would be content never existing outside of this moment again… but all too quickly it was over. The trees rustled once more, the water continued to splash in the fountain, and the stone beneath you became solid again, but there was something new in the air. Something that wasn’t there before but would be there for the rest of your life.

Yeosang clears his throat and reaches for your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are soft, and his touch is light, but he’s suddenly become your anchor, keeping you grounded and safe.

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to ignore the soulmate bond for even a second…” He says, his eyes searching yours. “I’m so sorry…”

You immediately shake your head. “You don’t have to apologize. I ignored it too… even longer than you did…”

You feel so stupid for letting him slip through your fingers for all that time. For letting this moment continuously get pushed further away from you. You should’ve never run out of the kitchen that day… You should’ve let the cards deal how they were supposed to, instead of trying to fight fate.

“I do have to apologize for walking away from you. Mijung could’ve waited. You’re more important.”

“Well… We can only go forward from here… so let’s forget about the past.” Yeosang hums in agreement. “Although, I will say this wasn’t how I thought I’d find my soulmate.”

He lets out a deep laugh. “Yeah, I couldn’t have predicted this at all.”

You fall into a serene silence, processing everything happening in the moment until Yeosang breaks it.

“I was so excited to meet you… Mijung had already talked you up a lot, and then when my friends told me about you, I almost couldn’t wait any longer.”

You pause, remembering when you met his two friends at Mijung’s… and how odd you acted before you ran out… What kind of impression did you leave on them?

“What did your friends say about me?”

An awkward expression graces his beautiful face. “Well… Wooyoung thought you were kind of weird… but San said you were super nice and that he thought you’d be cool. Once we figured out why you apparently ran out of the kitchen like it was on fire, San made Wooyoung take back his weird comment, which, of course, ended up with the two of them bickering.”

You stifle a laugh and try to figure out what about the scenario made Yeosang excited to meet you. You didn’t sound like anything especially great, and nice was something you said when you didn’t know how to describe somebody. You don’t let it bother you, though. You did act weird, so there was no other impression they could’ve had, but you weren’t worried. You’d change their minds in the future.

“How come you didn’t leave me any voicemails or texts? I would’ve responded a lot sooner if I knew it was you…”

“And say what?” He asks with a wry smile. “I’m sorry for leaving you standing there on the sidewalk in a coffee-stained shirt, can you call me back?”

You shake your head at him and try to fight the smile that wanted to permanently be on your face. “I would’ve answered to that…”

Yeosang bites his lip before smiling and nodding. “I’ll remember that for the future.”

His words fill the air with an almost crackling intensity. The future… What would the future hold for the two of you? Yeosang must’ve felt it too, because he turns his whole body to face you, bringing his leg up on the bench so he’s not awkwardly twisted, but still managing to maintain his grip on your hand.

“I know…” he starts before looking down at your entwined hands and playing with your fingers. “I know it’s gonna be awkward with Mijung… but I want to be with my soulmate… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and not waste any more time.”

He stops playing with your fingers and looks up to intently search your gaze. He was right. Things were going to be awkward with Mijung, but you didn’t care. He was your soulmate and you wanted to be with him as badly as he wanted to be with you. The rest of it you could figure out together…

Because you’ve found your soulmate. The one being on this planet meant for you. The one who will always understand you and be by your side until your last day… and maybe even beyond that…

Because he was yours and you were his…

“I’d love that.”

Tagging: @to-all-the-stories-i-love​, @skittlez-area512​, @wanderingatiny​

[aroace-cat-lady]

Aaaah I’m bored- can you guess what TS lyric this is

IIWSTIYAITTBIYHADIITYILYEAYDAPDG

Clue - red tv

Okay I’ll admit it might be a little hard but who knows

IF I WAS STANDING THERE IN YOUR APARTMENT ID TAKE THIS BOMB IN YOUR HEAD AND DISARMED ID SAY I LOVE YOU EVEN IN YOUR DARKEST AND PLEASE DONT GO

I'm like 87% sure. Like 99% of the lyric fits.

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: child trafficking, child labor

a/n: just a disclaimer, i am not that well-versed when it comes to investigations and trial procedures at the court. please do correct me i make a mistake. i hope you enjoy this new part! i think we have about three or four chapters left. ANGST is on the next part :’(

seven: if you can’t believe | masterlist

“On April xx, 20xx, at approximately 10:30 in the morning, two unidentified males entered and held hostage the Emergency Room of the Royal Hospital. The nurse in charge of the information desk said that the two males approached the desk and asked if there were two boys (their identities are yet to be confirmed) admitted to the hospital. They claimed that they’re their guardians and wish to have them discharged and transferred to a different hospital. Based on their description, the nurse confirmed that there were two boys who came to the hospital earlier in the morning. However, the nurse informed them that they are not cleared to be discharged yet as per doctor’s orders and if they wish to discuss with the doctor-in-charge, they can. They only need to present IDs or any documentation to prove that they are indeed the guardian.

They did present IDs however, it was not valid and accepted by the hospital. The two males started demanding to see the two boys and insisted that they will recognize who they were. At that point, the nurse said the two males’ were beginning to raise their voices. The nurse asked them to calm down and wait patiently for the doctor-in-charge to arrive. That’s when the two males pulled out handguns and threateningly pointed it at the nurse.

The Royal Hospital’s security was alerted and immediately called the Royal Police. The hospital’s security was able to distract the two suspects until one of the police officers fired a shot. Fortunately, no hospital staff and patients were harmed. It is yet to be identified how the armed suspects were able to enter the hospital undetected. 

The Royal Police cannot release the names of the suspects and any other details as the investigation is still ongoing. However, we are looking at the direction that this could possibly be a  case of child trafficking and the two suspects are perpetrators. 

Please be rest assured that we are committed to solve this case and hold everyone involved accountable. We ask the general public to only believe verified information and wait for the official statements that the Royal Police will release accordingly.

Thank you for your understanding.”

You’re both crestfallen and angry. This paper would probably rip apart from the way your hand is deathly gripping it. It’s never easy to read and hear about crimes committed against innocent people. It’s never easy because they don’t deserve to go through the torment, harm and trauma. You wish you could avoid it, but it would be wrong and unfair to the victims. So no matter how heartbreaking or uncomfortable it is, you read and you listen because you have to be aware of it. You have to know and not turn a blind eye because they deserve to be heard and fought for. 

This black and white statement of the Royal Police is nothing but horrible. How did the kingdom let this pass? For a kingdom that’s so proud of its enforcement of strict laws, how did this crime happen right under its nose? 

It weighs on your heart and ever since you’ve taken hold of this piece of paper, you don’t know how to continue on with the day anymore. You lean your head against the backrest and stare up the ceiling. You breathe in and breathe out, getting yourself together to think, to function.  

Something is telling you that there is more to this hostage taking at the hospital and this case of child trafficking. And you desperately need to know. You’re already aware that the authorized and concerned people are doing their job already, but why is it drawing your attention? 

You release an exasperated sigh and massage your right brow. It’s been twitching due to the boiling anger inside you and you just want it to stop. The only way for that to happen is to find answers. Picking up your phone among the pile of papers, you dial the number of the person you’re sure that can give you any information, big or small. 

First ring. Second ring. Thi---, “Your Highness.”

You’re quick to your feet the moment he answered. “Hey Seungkwan. How have you been?”

Boo Seungkwan is the man to call. A persistent and assertive prosecutor and person in general. Definitely one of the brightest classmates and lawyers you have ever met. It’s no surprise that he’s hired by the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office as a prosecutor. He knows what he’s doing and more than doing, he knows how to fight to the end.

He actually wanted you to join together and you considered the offer. However, due to your position in the kingdom, you realized that practicing in private is more suitable for you.

“Well,” he says and pauses, “I have been better. How about you, Your Highness?”

“You know that you can call me Y/N, right?” You remind him, offering a smile even though he won’t be able to see it. “We went to law school and passed the exams together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, not a big fan of throwbacks. “To what do I owe this phone call anyway?”

“About the recent statement of the Royal Police, is there anything you’d be willing to share with me?” You requested and faced the window that’s overlooking the city. 

You hear him chuckle on the other line. “I knew you’d ask. You do know that I’m risking my job as a prosecutor because I can’t say no to you right?”

“Is it something… big?” You ask nervously, biting the insides of your cheek.

A beat of silence passes and you can tell it is without having him say it. You think your heart is going to explode anytime soon.

“Big or not, it’s a case and a crime,” he retorts. “But this is something that Their Majesties need to brace themselves for,” he continues, warning laced on his voice. “It can shake the cabinet as well because we can tell that one, and if not, some of them are involved.”

There it is. The cold hard truth. There was nothing else to say. It’s more than obvious that the kingdom’s cabinet has been compromised and it will blow right at your family’s faces. You don’t even need to doubt it. But still, your blood runs cold at the thought. 

“Thank you Seungkwan,” you say and breathe out a defeated sigh. “Let’s meet for coffee some other time.”

You hear him say “anytime” and then end the call. 

You toss your phone back on the table and cross your arms as if you’re trying to hug yourself. Your eyes are out of focus and your mind has questions that need answers. This case is not even about protecting your family’s reputation anymore. It’s about your family protecting its people, its children, from this. 

You’ll probably never forgive yourself if you and the rest of your family have failed to do its promise and duty. 

“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon knocks on the wooden door and calls for you, pulling you back to the ground. “Are you ready to go?”

You frown and tilt your head to the side, confused. You don’t remember having errands outside the office today. 

Jeongyeon notices your confusion and says, “Your monthly checkup is today.”

Oh. 

“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind,” you say and quickly gather your things so that you can leave now. “Thank you, Jeongyeon.”

She nods, understanding what you meant. She keeps the door open and waits for you to pass through. 

What the hell am I going to do? You ask yourself. A million thoughts has started running inside your mind from reading the statement up to finding out that this case could potentially be a crime syndicate. A crime syndicate that the Royal Family failed to prevent. Every day, there are crimes that get tried and solved in this kingdom. But for this particular crime, it doesn’t happen every day and it shouldn’t be in the first place. But, your kingdom must have grown complacent because here it is, a ticking time bomb that will explode anytime soon.

How did this happen and who allowed this to happen?

“Your stress levels are quite high compared to your previous check-up, Your Highness.” The doctor gives you a knowing smile after reading the results of your tests today. 

“It’s because of work,” you make an excuse and return his smile with a sheepish one while scratching the back of your neck. “I think.”

The doctor tried to muffle his laughter, but you can hear him snicker nonetheless. He just nods and mutters an, “alright,” and proceeds to write down the results and updates of this consultation. 

“Although there is nothing to be concerned about, I still advise you to take things slow,” he once again points out the reminder that he gave from the first time you got admitted. “Remember, I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

You nod and purse your lips in a smile. “I promise I’ll try.”

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, but lets it go in the end. 

“I think we are good,” he says and leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “Let’s go back to your yearly check-up, like the usual.”

“Thank you for your time.” You stand up and reach your hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you next year, then.”

The doctor replies with his smile still intact, “I will be here.”

You think about taking the rest of the afternoon off and just go back to your apartment. You suddenly don’t feel so good and present, for lack of a better word. You just want to think alone, away from any distractions. 

On your way out to the door, you pull your phone out from your bag to call Jeongyeon. This floor of the hospital is private and reserved only for your family. It’s something you’re not proud of and you should probably talk to Their Majesties about it. You sigh and hold your phone to your ear as you proceed to the elevator. You're only a few steps away when a familiar voice makes you stop.

“Hey.”

You jump in surprise, almost dropping your phone and bag. You turn around and you’re not so surprised anymore to see a grinning Wonwoo with hands inside the pockets of his white coat. With a roll of your eyes, you finally relaxed your tensed shoulders and walked towards him.

He meets you halfway and holds his hand out. You happily take it, making it easy for him to tug you close to his chest, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his around your waist. Just like that, his breath against your skin made all your worries vanish.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, distancing from him but not letting go. 

“I knew that you’d be here,” he answers, keeping his hold on your arms. “Had to see you.”

You scoff and give his shoulder a light shove. “Shut up. We were inseparable until our last day at your hometown and yet you still want to see me. Aren’t you sick and tired of my face yet?”

He pinches your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose. “Of course not.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” you announce and let go of him, reluctantly (as always). “You should probably get back to work.”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you move any further and drags his hand from your arm to your hand, swaying it from side to side as he whines out, “But, I’m on my break. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

You don’t really give in easily and it takes a lot of persuasion before you actually do. Jeongyeon can’t even convince you to stop going home late. But with just one request and pleading eyes, Wonwoo has you standing inside his office. 

It’s spacious, but a tad bit messy. There is lots of paper. In fact mountains of them, which you are very familiar with already. A wall of books is on one side of the room while three respective desks are on the other side. There’s a window, which is good, you can see some natural lighting. And of course, a small pantry for coffee and snacks. 

Wonwoo offered his chair for you to sit on as he prepared you something to drink. You still look around and try to keep yourself occupied. Your eyes trail on his desk eventually and you can’t help but smile. If every corner of this room is in disarray, Wonwoo’s desk seems to be the only area that is not. There’s nothing much on it except for a jar of pens, pencils and highlighters, a notepad and some bookmarked books. 

“You’ve met Soonyoung, right?” He asks, coming back with  two warm cups. Coffee for him and tea for you. “I share this office with him and another doctor.”

You nod and take a quick sip. You noticed that it’s almost lunch time on the clock above the door and wondered, “Is this all you’re going to have for lunch?”

“I had some cheeseburger earlier this morning, so I’m good,” he answers and leans against the edge of the desk. “How about you? Are you hungry?”

You smile and shake your head no. 

Then, it got quiet. 

It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you think Wonwoo can sense something else by the way his eyebrows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something more. He sips on his coffee one more time before placing the cup down on the table. Afterwards, he takes matters into his own hands and swivels the chair you're sitting on by the armrest towards him, catching you off guard.

His actions almost made you drop your drink and you thought for a moment if you should punch him again. “What are you doing?”

Wonwoo just gives you a mischievous smirk before leaning down to kiss your lips. Your eyes dilate in surprise while the rest of your body freezes. You’re just thankful you’re already sat on the chair, otherwise your legs would give up and you’d fall. When you don’t resist, his kiss deepens, demanding. But it didn’t go any further than a few more pecks here and there. You let him be until he decides to pull away, but not without giving one last long smooch. 

“What was that for?” You ask, suddenly shy. 

Wonwoo just nonchalantly shrugs. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“You startled me!” You hiss and slap his arm.

Wonwoo has started to take pleasure in seeing you all flustered and shy. He finds it cute and he’ll take every chance he gets just to see it. But he knows there’s something bothering you and he’s hoping you give him the chance to hear you out.

“Talk to me,” he says while crouching, almost sitting down on the floor to meet your height. “What’s on that brilliant head of yours?”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words but give in nonetheless, “It’s the hostage that took place previously. There’s a new update about it.”

Wonwoo exhales and moves to massage your thighs. “I read about it briefly earlier.”

You nod and let the silence engulf the two of you once again. 

“Listen, the kids they we’re talk---”

“Wonwoo!”

You jump when the door of the office suddenly bolts open with two unfamiliar boys dressed in hospital gowns running inside. They’re quickly followed by a panting Soonyoung who gives the two of you an apologetic smile. Wonwoo immediately stands up as they excitedly dash towards him while chanting his name. 

“We heard you were on a break, can we play now? Please?” The little one, which you assumed was the youngest, pleads and hops in the hopes of Wonwoo carrying him. The other one, who’s much taller, does the same but he’s only clinging to his arms.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, Your Highness,” Soonyoung says (you’re sure he’s teasing) and gives you a salute. “These boys never get tired and I have no idea how.”

You stand up from the chair too and try to get a good look on the boy’s faces, but you couldn’t because their attention is only on Wonwoo. 

“We’ll play, alright?” Wonwoo tries to calm them down.”But I want you to meet someone special first.”

Your heart skips a beat meanwhile Soonyoung’s jaw drops in a silent squeal. 

“They were the kids from the statement,” Wonwoo warrily says while making the boys face you. 

Statement?

Your heart skipped one moment and the next it dropped to your stomach. You didn’t expect it to be them. You really hoped it wasn’t them. You don’t even know how sure you are that it’s them. But when you finally meet their eyes, these boys don’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore.

It’s them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly concerned by the sudden downcast of your face. 

“Wonwoo...” you weakly whisper. 

They’re one of the children adopted from the orphanage.

“Can you ask the orphanage if they can give us a copy of photographs displayed at their gallery?” 

A phone call has never felt so dreadful. You can’t help but bite your nails as you listen to Jeongyeon adhere to your request. A lump has already formed on your throat and you don’t even know how you’re going to swallow it. 

You slide your phone back to your pocket when Jeongyeon said she’d get back to you shortly. You turn around from where you were standing and see Wonwoo and Soonyoung playing with the two boys. It’s bittersweet. For one, you’re glad they are free and happy and on the other hand, it doesn’t sit right why they have to go through terrible and unimaginable things just so that they can be.

And it doesn’t help that it all happened here. 

Wonwoo told you how they got to know them and how he had asked the hospital to keep them here in the meantime, in coordination with Social Services of course. He didn’t need the hostage taking or the police’s statement to know what’s going on because his guts already told him the moment he saw the state of the boys. But then again, what happened only confirmed what he feared the most. 

Wonwoo deviates his attention to you and notices your lost gaze. By the looks of it, he’s aware that this is bothering you. He gives Sam’s hair a ruffle before standing up and walking to where you are.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching his hand out to softly squeeze your arm.

“Yeah,” you affirm, but the palm against your forehead doesn’t seem to agree. “I just… I can’t believe this.”

“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe your distress with his hand cradling your face. “I mean, it’s not. But, it’s not your fault.”

Why does it feel like it is? 

You couldn’t ask him that out loud so you just give him a nod instead. Wonwoo knows you’re hesitant to believe him and he doesn’t like it. He takes your hands and squeezes them. 

“Look at me,” he commands and when you don't, he lifts your chin up himself. “I’m confident this will be solved in no time. Have faith in your people and yourself, hmm? ”

“Okay,” you answer and that makes Wonwoo smile. 

Okay. You’re going to stop wallowing in your own uncertainty. You draw your eyes back at the boys and at this moment, you promised that punishment will be inflicted to everyone responsible for their suffering. 

No matter what it takes.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 14]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; shower sex!!!, filming sex videos, dirty talk, intoxication, thigh riding 😗🤤, this chapter is basically pwp LOOOL this ones def a shorter chapter cuz i ended up working on some other things that are comin’ up soon 😳😏!! I’ll post a notice about that tomorrow hehe~💕 Also… I think I’ve decided when and where I’m going to end Cherry Bomb😭😭 I know that comes as a bit of a shock but I’ve been drafting the future chapters in between posting the last few recent chapters and basically everything’s already set up…(more on that next week) 💕 But I wanna say thank you as always for your continued interest and support on CB!! It means so much to me🥺💕!! Anytime I see a cherry I'm just like 👀👀 I must have that!! But also, I’m excited for future series as well!! 💕✨ For now, enjoy ch 14 and have a great rest of your weekend!! 💕🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - ? 

Seungcheol tells you he’s going to be a little late in picking you up from work,  Wednesday afternoon.

You had easily agreed and told him to take his time as you sat in a booth chatting with Jun while you waited.

“Wow, I just... I can’t believe you’re really stopping Saturday streams… I mean, kinda makes sense though, now that I think about it.”

You hum in response, pouting up at Jun who cleans up the booth in front of you. You had put up the notice on your homepage earlier in the day that you would be stopping Saturday cam shows and that instead, you would be uploading pre-recorded content on Saturdays in its place. “Yeah, I’m used to the filming schedule but Seungcheol’s right, y’know? We can’t film on the side and still keep my normal camming schedule. We’d be too tired.”

“‘We’, huh? It really switched from just you to you and Seungcheol-hyung.” Jun laughs a little as your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah… It’s not… bad, is it?”

Jun pauses, almost dropping the plate he was holding when he turns to face you properly. “Nah… well… I don’t think so? I don’t really mind and your channel seems to have only grown since so it doesn’t seem like a bad thing. If anything you’ve gained a bigger following since. I don’t doubt that hyung’s brought in some viewers on his own too.”

You nod quietly, simmering in your own thoughts. 

At first, you thought Seungcheol would only show up in your cam shows every now and then, aside from filming the pre-recorded videos. But he’d easily become part of every single one since the two of you had met, even with his hesitation at first. Living together had only made it easier and even Seungcheol found himself looking forward to filming with you and trying new things.

“Hey, your phone is ringing. Aren’t you gonna pick up?”

You check the caller ID to see that it’s Seungcheol, quickly picking up the call.

“Hello?”

“I’m outside, baby, let’s go~!”

He’s giddy once you get inside his car and he’s still giddy when you get home; confusion on your features when he starts grabbing the grocery bags from the trunk of the car.

“You ran the groceries? You should’ve told me, I would’ve gone with you!” You grab a few of the bags yourself, helping Seungcheol as he fiddles with the car keys to lock it.

“It’s okay, I just grabbed some wine for us and some things I forgot we needed. But I thought we should celebrate a little!”

“Celebrate? For what, ‘Cheollie?”

He grins, keeping silent until the two of you reach the door to the apartment. “‘Cheol~ C’mon tell me!” Unlocking the apartment door, he lets you in first before he closes the door behind himself.

“I just thought we could relax n’ drink a ‘lil, y’know? You started working yesterday and your channel has been doing so well so I thought we should celebrate! I know it’s been a wild couple of weeks so I think you deserve it!”

You smile back at him, laughing under your breath as you start to help him put the groceries away.

“You’re so silly, but, okay!”  

One glass of wine quickly turns into two and then into three as you and Seungcheol down more than half the bottle of expensive wine he’d picked up from the store.

“Oh my god, Seungcheol, stoooop. I’m ticklish!” You giggle drunkenly, leaning into Seungcheol’s side as his free hand slides underneath your shirt to tease your skin. He keeps his other hand wrapped tight around a glass of wine, careful to not spill it on the sofa as you squirm next to him.

“Exactly the point, baby.” He mutters against your hair, equally as drunk as you. The alcohol was already making him feel hot and somewhat sensitive to your small breathy noises. “Hey, I wanna try somethin’ if you’re up for it.” You pull away from him slightly, tilting your head up to meet his hazy eyes.

“Okay, whaddya wanna try?”

Seungcheol smirks as he pats his lap and you quickly catch onto what he wants. You ease off the sofa from his side and onto his lap before his hand is on your waist and guiding you until you’re situated on his thigh instead.

“Think you can cum just using my thigh?” He slurs out; drunken eyes blinking hard to focus on you.

“Think? I know I can~ I’ve had to get off with less so this’ll be a piece of cake!”

You get yourself a little more comfortable on his thigh, mentally patting yourself on the shoulder for deciding to change into one of Seungcheol’s shirts and a pair of panties before the two of you had eased onto the sofa with the wine.

Seungcheol rests against the cushions as he watches you, simultaneously bringing the glass of wine to his mouth as he takes a generous sip. “Lemme see you, baby. Make yourself cum on my thigh.”

Nodding, you lick your parched lips as your eyes flutter shut. You focus on the feeling of his denim clad thigh underneath you; grinding against him and moaning as the rough fabric only adds to the pleasure that quickly starts to build. “Oh, S-Seungcheol…”

“That’s right, baby. Make yourself feel good for me.”

It doesn’t take very long before your panties are soaking and the addition of the alcohol coursing through your body only makes you feel infinitely warmer and much more sensitive.

“You’re already soaking through my jeans, baby. Does it feel that good?” Smirking, Seungcheol tenses up his thigh just as you throw your head back; too lost in your own pleasure to properly hear him. He bounces his leg once in an attempt to get your attention, but he finds it futile as you only grind against him harder.

“Fuck, Seu--Seungcheol!” You whine, still only focused on yourself and your pleasure as he laughs; still sounding distant to your ears.

“You really are gonna cum, huh? I mean, you’re already soaking through your  panties like it’s nothing. Shit, you’d look so pretty just grinding against a fuckin’ pillow right now, begging me to let you cum while I just watched you...”

Seungcheol licks his lips, foggy eyes trained on the wet patch of fabric on his jeans as you start to grind against him quicker. He brings the glass of wine to his lips, finishing off the rest of it before precariously setting the glass down a little further away from the two of you on the sofa.

His hands grip your waist, slowing you down only slightly as he tenses the muscles in his thigh again.

“Please, please, please…” Mumbling, your head rolls forward and your foggy eyes blink open to meet Seungcheol’s equally intoxicated stare.

“Cum. Get my thigh fuckin’ soaked and then I’ll fuck your cute ‘lil pussy just how you want.”

Your panties stick to you like a second skin and only add on to the friction that has you quicking tumbling over the edge of an orgasm. You let out a shaky breath, thighs clamped tight around Seungcheol’s own as your body slumps forward into his warm chest; pleasure washing over you in an instant as you cum.

“Don’t get tired on me now, baby.” Whispering against your hair, he smiles watching your thighs tremble and he eats up the way you whine and whimper against his chest as the waves of your orgasm continue to wash over your body.

“Can you still stand?”

You drunkenly stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror; admiring the post orgasmic bliss that’s apparent all over your features as you stand in front of it completely naked.

“Come over here, baby.” Seungcheol coos, already just as naked as you are as he waits in front of the shower door. “The camera’s already recording and the water is hot.”

“Okay~”

You walk over to him; inner thighs still coated in your wetness as you lick your lips. It was Seungcheol’s idea to film in the shower, saying that the steam from the hot water would keep him from being seen completely as long as he fucked you from behind with your frontside pressed against the glass.

He lets you step in first before he follows suit, shutting the door behind himself. “We’ll let the shower steam up a ‘lil more, huh?” He smiles, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

Seungcheol tastes just like the wine from earlier as you melt underneath his touch and his hands thread through your hair, kissing you and walking you backwards until your back meets the wet glass.

“Fuck, baby, I should’ve eaten you out earlier. I wanna fuckin’ taste how sweet you are on my tongue.” His words are muffled against your own lips as you mewl in return before teasingly biting his bottom lip.

“You can eat me out for breakfast~” You entice, voice still slightly slurred from the alcohol as Seungcheol pulls away.

“Don’t tempt me ‘cause you know I will.”

He spins you around; letting you press your palms against the fogged up glass as you jut your ass out towards him. Through the foggy glass, only your frontside can be seen by the camera that Seungcheol had haphazardly set onto the opposite counter.

“Still so fuckin’ wet too. You were so pretty cumming on my thigh earlier, baby.” He reaches a hand between your legs, fingertips ghosting through your wet folds as you groan.

“P-please just fuck me! I--I already came o-once and my p-pussy felt so, ah, empty without y-your cock…”

Laughing under his breath, Seungcheol makes sure to not lean forward too much as he places his hands firmly on your waist to readjust your body before wrapping a hand around his cock. “Shit you’re so cute when you beg.”

You wiggle your hips at him; hazy eyes focused on water droplets on the glass. “Please, I, mmh, need y-you...”

Seungcheol positions the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you by only sliding the head in as you whine. “Nooo, I n-need more than t-that…” 

He smirks at your backside, taking pity on you as he slowly starts to sink his cock into your pussy. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby...” His brows furrow in concentration just as the grip on your waist tightens and Seungcheol finds himself already starting a quicker pace the second he bottoms out. 

“Oh, g-god, yes! Fuck, you feel s-so good!” Whining, you work your hips back as you meet Seungcheol's thrusts; walls already clamping down hard onto him. “Your c-cock is so, ah, b-big and fuckin’ fills m-my pussy so, ngh, good!” 

You rest the side of your head and your chest against the cool glass as Seungcheol’s thrusts keep you pressed firm against it. “That's right, baby. Only my cock fills you up this perfectly, huh?” He smirks, angling his thrusts to tap your g-spot as you moan loudly. 

“Yes, fuh--fuck, only your cock gets, ngh, me t-this wet!” 

Choked sobs leave your lips as Seungcheol focuses on his and your pleasure and he can already feel his cock throbbing, his own body just as sensitive as yours from all the alcohol the two of you had earlier. 

“I’m gonna cum in your pretty ‘lil cunt and then once we get cleaned up, I’ll fuck you in our bed too. Make you sleep with my cum inside your pretty body and then eat you out in the morning until you’re cumming on my tongue.” 

You clench around Seungcheol’s cock at his words, nodding gently as you let out a soft cry. “P-please, I want it...” 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as he doubles his pace and slowly sneaks a hand around until his fingertips are on your clit. He starts pinching and rubbing circles on the swollen nub as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“You wanna cum, don’t you? Your pussy is fuckin’ sucking me in deeper, I can barely move, baby~” 

“A-ah, yes, please, pl--please cum with me... I wanna feel, mmh, you c-cumming inside me when I cum t-too...” You voice is soft and breathy; head feeling muddled as the pleasure almost becomes too much for your sensitive body. 

Seungcheol finds himself quickly losing his rhythm as well, groans spilling from his lips. “Cum with me, baby. I want you to feel, ngh, good with m-me.” 

His fingertips on your clit press down harder, hoping to throw you over the edge of another orgasm just as Seungcheol feels himself about to cum too. 

“Fuck!” 

There’s a growl on Seungcheol’s lips as his orgasm begins to crest and in the midst of his high, he can feel the way your walls flutter around his cock as you cum with him. Your small whimpers and cries bounce off the glass and you can feel your legs shaking as Seungcheol works you both through your orgasm.

“Ngh, I can f-feel how m-much you came inside of m-me...” 

Seungcheol gives it a second as the two of you catch your breath; his hands massaging your skin as your body threatens to give way. He slides his cock from inside of you as you moan at the emptiness and Seungcheol is quick to wrap an arm around you waist before you collapse onto the shower floor. 

“Tired?” You can only nod gently as you rest against Seungcheol’s shoulder.  “Guess no round two in bed, huh? I can feel you shaking against me, baby.” 

The two of you share a tired laugh before Seungcheol pulls you under the hot stream of water; fully ready to get you cleaned up and tucked under the sheets as quickly as he can.

“No, but--but I still fully expect to be eaten out for breakfast.”

“Deal.”

[uprisedenyze]

IF I WAS STANDING THERE IN UR APARTMENT😫ID TAKE THAT BOMB IN YOUR HEAD AND DISARM IT😓ID SAY I LOVE YOU EVEN AT YOUR DARKEST AND PLEASE DONT GO😣I DIDNT KNOW😭YOU WERE BREAKING DOWN😪ID FALL TO PIECES ON THE FLOOR😥IF U WERENT AROUND🥺TOO YOUNG TO KNOW IT GETS BETTER😞ILL BE UR SUNMER SUN FOR U FOREVER☀️FOREVER WINTER IF YOU GO❄️

@taylorswift @taylornation

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 12

II.I

Masterlist

Warnings: References to violence, canon-typical descriptions of violence, crime scenes, and death.

Song(s): "Bruises" by Lewis Capaldi and "I Almost Do" by Taylor Swift

It’s almost eight years until you hear the name Aaron Hotchner again.

You’re anxiously awaiting the call about your reassignment within the FBI. You had completed your year of mandated leave, gone through the required psych evaluations, gone through the training protocols. You’re ready to get back into the action, or, at least, you’re ready enough to get back to work. That’s when you receive the final message.

Your reinstatement was to be within the Quantico headquarters. This way, the brass could keep a close eye on you, while still utilizing your skills in the best possible way. So you flew into Quantico late Saturday night, moving into the cheapest apartment you could find. It was in a terrible area but being out of work for a year leaves you without much spare cash to live lavishly. Without your government-issued weapon, you check the deadlock every time you turn your back to the door for too long.

You have hardly any furniture in the apartment, most of the decor being the piles and piles of boxes in the center of your living room. You’re exhausted, in every possible way, so you settle for a fast shower, during which you’re entirely paranoid someone is going to break into your apartment. You collapse onto your bed, barely having the energy to even put the sheets on the bed to make it. The call comes through your phone shortly after you fall asleep, which means you don’t check your messages until early Sunday.

“This is Erin Strauss of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I’m calling to inform you that the council has processed your psych evaluation and administered a new gun registration and badge for you. You will now be working under me as a profiler within the BAU. It is my understanding that you’ve taken quite a few profiling classes in your training as a negotiator and you’re well equipped for this job. There will be a slight adjustment period but nothing that I do not believe you are capable of handling. You will start in your new position on Monday. Meet me at my office and I can brief you about the basics and then Agent Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief, will take it from there.”

You practically drop the phone. Your hands shake slightly, as you click off the phone and place it back onto your bedside table. You write Strauss an email in response, apologizing for missing her call, accepting the position, thanking her for the opportunity, and expressing your immense gratitude for such an esteemed position with such a great team. But that’s a lie. For a split second, you believe it's possible that this Aaron Hotchner is a completely different one than your Aaron Hotchner. You’ve never been a believer in fate or destiny. But for this to be a coincidence is simply unbelievable. Isn’t he supposed to be tormenting more students, torturing more girls, breaking more hearts? How did he end up as the BAU Unit Chief within the FBI?

You’re in shock, Strauss only leaving you about 24 hours to process it all and prepare for a new job. There’s no way you could request reassignment to a different unit. You’ve already been given your second chance. It’s now or never to get back into the FBI.

You’ve been out of work for a year. For a year, you’ve been struggling to cope with the loss of coworkers and innocent people. A loss that’s completely on your shoulders. Blood that’s on your hands. It was enough of an adjustment to get back to normal. Well as close to normal as can be. Your government-issued therapist, as you like to call her, attempted to dismantle this idea. She tried her best to remove the guilt from your mind, but after the government aid for the sessions ran out, you abandoned all hope of restoring yourself to the mental state you were in before. Everything in your life now is the after. You can’t live in the before. It’s too painful.

But now? Now it feels like all the work you’ve done to heal, to move on, to continue your life is rapidly unraveling in front of you. How would you adjust to seeing Aaron Hotchner once again? You hope that by now, he won’t have as much of an impact on you. You’ve experienced so much life, so much living, so much loss since then.

You’ve had other relationships, loved other people, slept with other people, but the impact that Hotch had on your life is permanent. When you think about it too long it feels ridiculous, the fact that a silly little fling in your early 20s has managed to change you so much. So much so, that now, at 29, you can still sense remnants of his impact on your life. They’re small moments, in which you realize that your behavior has changed so drastically over the years because of him. Your tongue is sharper. You stand up for yourself more often, and you never ever let anyone walk all over you the way he did.

You spend the day worrying yourself sick about the new position. You can’t turn it down. This job is your last chance.

Monday morning, your alarm rings wildly next to you in bed, but your eyes are already open. You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past hour unable to sleep. You’ve been tossing and turning restlessly, unable to focus on anything else but the last few memories you have of Aaron Hotchner. Your mind first goes to that last day of classes, thinking about the way he smiled at you from across his desk. The way that damn leather-bound book felt in your hands. The way that he kissed you. He made you feel so special. Your mind then travels to the rest of that weekend, one in which he managed to rip your heart out of your chest and tear it into a million little pieces.

You think of the last thing you heard from him. Those same words he had spoken to you once before, but spoken to someone else. At that moment, you realized that you were nothing special. You were just another girl Professor Hotchner used for sex.

You’re hopeful that you will be able to move forward with professionalism. There’s a second where you consider the possibility of becoming friends with Aaron Hotchner, but you know that’s impossible. You can’t look at him and ignore all the hurt he caused you. You can, however, be professional. You know you can work with him. It might just tear you up inside, but you can do it. You have to.

However, you wonder what kind of person he’s become in the past eight years. You know you’ve changed dramatically, but what has happened to him? How has his life gone? How did he end up in the FBI?

You wonder if he’s learned to love. The man that you knew was one who was seemingly incapable of ever loving anyone. It’s clear to you that back then he was too selfish, too wrapped up in his own head to dedicate anything real to anyone else. And if he ever did feel anything real for you, he was too emotionally damaged to handle it, work through it, or to tell you about it.

Your alarm rings again. You snooze it again. What will you say to him? What do you want your first words to be to him? Will you tell him off? Should you even acknowledge the past? Or should you just put on your best air of professionalism and approach this as you would any new job? It seems impossible to push aside the past and treat him as a new person. Because he’s not a new person. He’s a man who has shaped every decision you’ve made in your life since knowing him.

You eventually convince yourself to get out of bed, reminding yourself that it’s pointless to fight inevitables. You dig through the moving boxes, pulling out your coffee maker and a thermos, filling it up to the top, already expecting the Quantico office coffee to be bad. You haven’t worked in a year, but you do remember always having to make your own coffee before work.

While the coffee brews, you pack a go-bag, an item that Strauss heavily emphasized the importance of for this job. You would be traveling a lot for each case, and you have to be ready to leave at any moment. You’re not sure why your reassignment is with the BAU. Your therapist emphasized a lifestyle of structure and predictability. If there’s one thing you’ve heard about the life of these profilers, it’s that the hours are irregular.

You get dressed, slipping on a clean pressed, black pair of slacks and a white button-down blouse. You slide on a comfortable pair of boots, ones that look nice and professional but don’t hinder your movement in the event that you get called away on a case.

One benefit of the irregular hours is that your personal time is limited. If you can occupy your mind with work, you can avoid getting sucked up into your own head. Like right now. You grip your bag as it jostles against your side on the bus. You drink your coffee a little too fast, which doesn’t ease the unnatural level of fear coursing through you.

This shouldn’t scare you so much. But the old wounds that you fought so hard to turn to scar tissue are reopening and they hurt just as much as the day Hotch inflicted them upon you.

You get to the Quantico headquarters a few minutes early, giving you enough time to get your new ID from the front desk. You get into the elevator, rocking back and forth on your toes anxiously. He’s here. He could be anywhere. Every time the elevator doors open to a different floor, you fear that you’ll come face to face with him. You’re sure that he’s probably on the sixth floor. The BAU floor. He’s probably in his office waiting to welcome the new agent. Does he know that you’re the new agent? Does he know who you are? Does he know what’s happened to you this past year?

You were assured that most of the details of your ‘leave’ were kept confidential. All that was publicized was a tragic bombing. The bomber sacrificed himself for the cause. Only a few people were able to escape, but all with severe injuries. The FBI didn’t want to admit their involvement. Their failure to save those people. Your failure to save those people.

You get to Strauss’s office, struggling to pay attention as she walks you through the basics, hands you your new badge, and a new gun. You holster the weapon, pulling your go-bag onto your shoulder, fiddling with the straps nervously.

Strauss finishes her introductory speech and takes a moment to look you over, “Agent, are you sure you’re ready to get back to work?” It doesn’t take a profiler to notice your nerves. Ever since the start of your leave, nerves and anxiety aren’t an uncommon occurrence, but this is more than usual. Your body is practically vibrating.

Despite the sick feeling in your stomach, you manage a nod, “I’m sorry.” You apologize for appearing distracted, “Yes ma’am. I’m ready.”

You can tell she’s unconvinced. Strauss leads you through the relatively crowded bullpen. You spot an empty desk across from a woman with long black hair, who is too busy laughing with the blonde sitting on top of her desk to notice that the tall skinny one across from them has just spilled coffee all over himself and his paperwork. You assume that the empty one is to be your desk. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you glance up at the two offices on the catwalk. One of them has the blinds tightly drawn and through the other, you can just barely see an older gentleman working on his laptop. David Rossi. You know him. You read just about every single one of his books on Sunday in preparation for this new job.

Your profiling skills are mediocre at best. Strauss argues that out of all possible candidates you had the most office experience and field experience. You’re really not sure how that helps. How could a traumatized and failed crisis negotiator who hasn’t been in the field in nearly a year provide anything helpful for the BAU?

Old habits resurfaced and you buried yourself in published literature and textbooks and research. You weren’t about to walk into a new job feeling unprepared, especially not one in which Aaron Hotchner would be your new boss. Now, at this moment, trailing behind Straus, as your body seems detached from your mind, dreading the moment that she opens that door to Aaron’s office, no amount of studying or preparation seems sufficient.

Rossi steps out of his office just as you and Strauss reach the top of the stairs. You lock eyes with him and despite not even knowing who you are, he gives you a reassuring nod. Damn profilers. Your body language is probably a dead giveaway. Strauss knocks on the door.

“Come in.” That voice. You could never forget it. Strauss reaches for the handle and you’re tempted to run away. Turn around and walk away. At least then you could leave with your sanity semi-intact. However, your curiosity has been piqued at this point. You have to know. You have to see him. You step through the doorway into the office and finally get a good look at the man.

He's hunched over, body turned slightly away from the desk. He has a phone pressed to his ear and he’s speaking in a gentle, hushed tone, "Yeah I know buddy." He glances over at you and Strauss. As if out of a movie, he does a double-take. It’s almost as if it takes a second for his eyes to really process what he’s really seeing. And what he’s really seeing is you. The look on his face tells you that he barely recognizes you, now eight years older, in professional clothes, and a face that’s just a little more weathered from all that you’ve been through.

Your memories of him are not faint as your eyes stay locked with his. They’re not just faded remnants of your moments together. Staring at him, eyes drinking in every inch of him, it all comes back more vivid than ever. You can practically feel his fluffy hair tangled in your fingers. From your position, you can just faintly smell his cologne. That’s a scent that hasn’t changed. The sensory memories are overwhelming. The passion, the secrecy, the pleasure. But that quickly changes, making the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach grow at an all-consuming rate. That night. That night he grabbed you by the front of your shirt, the way he snapped at you, the completely ice-cold manner in which you spoke those last few words to him, I’m done.

That Aaron Hotchner is not the man sitting in front of you. You barely recognize him. His hair is shorter, more strictly gelled in place. His white shirt is buttoned all the way up. He has a suit jacket on. His tie is done up perfectly. You can’t help but take note of the bags under his eyes, the increase of lines on his face. Obviously, he’s aged, but the way his face has changed, it’s not just age. You can see his eyes are dull, glossed over. For as neatly put together he is from the neck down, his face looks tired.

Hotch seems to forget he was just on the phone, entirely taken aback by the fact that you’re actually there, standing in front of him. "I’m sorry I can’t be with you right now but get a lot of rest and I’ll be home before you know it. I have to go. I love you too." He hangs up and you try to hide the shock on your face as those words come out of his mouth. Words you dreamt of him saying. Words that haunted you for months nearly a decade ago.

"Agent Hotchner, this is the crisis negotiation transfer I was discussing with you," Strauss nods at you, and Hotch stands up, smoothing out his tie, placing his hands flat on the desk. "This is Agent—"

"Y/N." His voice is firm. Hearing his name fall from your lips is enough to send you running in the opposite direction. Fear and anxiety overcome you, your legs going weak as he sticks out a hand to shake yours, but you can’t seem to get yourself to move forward to touch his hand, "I’m sorry, Agent Y/L/N." He corrects his mistake.

His hand hovers in the air for a moment, waiting for you to reach forward to shake it. Your shoes drag across the carpet, as you reach forward to shake his hand. His warm, rough hand envelops yours. At one point in your life, just the touch of his skin against yours would send sparks up and down your arm. Just that handshake would’ve been enough to ignite your skin and make you feel alive.

You feel nothing. Just a simple handshake. Your heart is attempting to jump out of your throat, beating rapidly and pounding against your ribcage so hard you think your chest visibly moves. However, his touch no longer thrills you. Maybe you are finally over Aaron Hotchner.

"You two know each other?” Strauss gestures between the two of you.

"No," You reply without missing a beat. You shake your head, finally able to get words out. You have to force your eyes off of Hotch and look at Strauss, "Well, yes. Agent Hotchner lectured at my law school a few times. When he was a federal prosecutor.”

Strauss gives a small nod of acknowledgment, “Agent Hotchner can show you the ropes from here. I expect updates from the field,” Her eyes shoot over to you. Updates about you, she means. In case you manage to fuck up again.

You watch as Strauss leaves the office not turning your eyes to Hotch at the desk in front of you. You look out the window, gesturing to the agents in the bullpen you passed, “I’m assuming the extra desk in the bullpen is mine?”

Hotch tilts his head down, letting out a small breath, “Yes. Agent Y/L/N—”

“And everyone in the bullpen, is that the whole team? I know Agent Rossi’s office is next to yours and I only saw three agents in the bullpen but I assume there are more?”

“Yes. We have a technical analyst and another member of the team. You’ll be introduced to them shortly, however–” that’s not what he really wants to talk to you about. Its clear that there’s so much he wants to say, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. You keep your mind focused on the important questions on there about the job. You know that a conversation with him about anything else just might break you.

“And in terms of training, you can see I passed my gun qualifications again. Are there any other evaluations or training protocols? Or will my time from the academy be sufficient preparation for this position?” You rattle off your questions. His face is a mixture of shock and frustration. He has his arms crossed against his chest. He tucks his bottom lip in, biting at it lightly.

“Y/N,” He places his hands firmly down on the desk. This time he doesn’t answer your questions. He’s tired of your avoidance, “What are you doing here?”

You take a pause at the sound of your first name, swallowing slowly, “I’m here on reassignment from crisis negotiation. I’m supposed to be working as a profiler on your team in the BAU.”

“You know what I mean,” Hotch presses the issue a little further.

“With all due respect, I’m not sure what you are searching for from me but if the implication is that I am here for anything other than the job then you are sorely mistaken,” You huff out and cross your arms against your chest, mirroring his closed-off body language. “Sir.”

“That’s not what I was implying,” Hotch places a hand on his forehead, rubbing roughly, trying to ease his frustration. You’re not quite sure where he gets off being so short and snippy with you. “I’m just… The last time I saw you, you were on track to be a lawyer and now you’re standing in front of me, in my office, joining my team. It just all seems very—”

“Sir?” You turn and see a different blonde standing in the doorway. She has a bright pink floral dress on, two large flowers in her hair, a file in her hands, and a pink fuzzy pen tucked behind her ear. “Sorry to interrupt,” She steps forward, stumbling a little in her high heels, sticking her hand out to shake yours, “Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, computer geek, and all-around wizard of the keyboard.”

You smile at her and stick your hand out to introduce yourself, “It’s great to meet you.”

“Sir, you remember that the Indiana PD contacted us about a possible serial?” She lets out a shaky breath, squinting her eyes and looking away as she opens the file, holding it out to Hotch, “Another body.”

Hotch has to reach past you to take the file and you audibly suck in your breath as his arm glides past your torso. “Same signature?” He looks over the photos.

Garcia lets out a small shudder, “Yeah the victim’s hands… the unsub he… don’t make me say it, sir.” She squeaks out.

“Gather the team,” He gives a nod before finally looking back at you, “You think you’re ready to get back to work?”

“Yes Sir,” You sigh, pull your go-bag further up your shoulder. You start to follow him out the door but he stops short in front of you.

“We’ll talk later,” He stumbles over his words a little. You’re making him nervous. You see his hand at his side. His fingers rubbing against one another. There’s one thing that hasn’t changed in years. He still has the same nervous behaviors.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about,” You mumble under your breath as you follow him to the conference room. You speak quietly but from the way he tilts his head, stretches his neck, and takes a deep breath, you know your comment was loud enough for him to hear.

You take a seat at the roundtable, watching as the three agents from earlier are now joined by a tall, muscular black man who ruffles the top of the skinny kid’s head, messing up his hair, “I’m just teasing kid, I like the haircut. Makes you look young.”

“Yeah like I need anything to make me look younger. Everyone already thinks I’m a teenager,” The skinny one tries to smooth his hair back into place, but it doesn’t really help, leaving small strands sticking up in the air.

“Everyone this is Agent Y/L/N, she’s joining us from Crisis Negotiation,” Hotch pulls out his chair, right next to yours. You feel your whole body tense up, as the close proximity really allows you to smell his familiar cologne. Eight years and he still hasn’t bought a new one. Great.

“Joining us?” The muscular one stands just a bit behind you, making himself a cup of coffee but turns and walks to take a seat, giving you a slow once over. It’s not a flirtatious one, but a wary scan of your body. You’re becoming acutely aware of how exposed you feel in a room full of professional profilers.

“Strauss thinks we need the extra help, especially with the recent increase in requests for BAU help, and I don’t disagree with her,” Hotch looks around the table at his coworkers before looking to you, “Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Rossi, and Dr. Reid.” Hotch points out each member, who all give you small nods and waves of acknowledgment as he introduces them.

“Crisis negotiation, huh?” Morgan continues to push the subject. You can tell he’s not really happy about a new addition to the team. You’re guessing it’s coming from a place of protectiveness of his team. You understand his hesitance. The team probably works well together, a new person is a whole new dynamic. If you could pick any other position you would, you have no specific interest in the BAU, but it’s a second chance and you’re not going to screw it up, no matter how much you wish that anyone else in the world besides Hotch was unit chief.

“I think the job took a small amount of profiling,” You shrug and give Agent Morgan a smile, hoping to get in his good graces soon, “Obviously not as much as this but it did take a level of interpretation of the behavior of criminals who take hostages in addition to a complex understanding of intergroup dynamics and how that might impact a situation.”

“There’ll be time to play nice and get to know each other later,” Hotch cuts the introductions short. “Garcia, the case?”

“Right,” She clicks on the monitor at the front while Hotch slides a tablet over to you. You take it from him, your fingertips just brushing against his. Everything about the interaction feels like eight years ago. He manages to keep his best poker face, all the while you feel the small sparks shoot across your skin. Those damn sparks. Except you’re very quickly realizing that the Hotch in front of you is nothing like eight years ago.

There’s something deeply broken about his eyes. You could never forget those eyes. When you first met him you thought they were deep brown. Then you spent enough time watching him, studying every detail of his face and learned that they were a beautiful light brown. Small golden flecks in his eyes become more pronounced in the sun. His eyes are different now. First of all, the deep undereye bags that frame them make him look years older than his actual age. His brow seems permanently set in that furrowed position. It’s a familiar expression of his. You had the joy of seeing that brow lift when the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. Smiling seems to be the last thing this current Aaron Hotchner wants to do.

You realize you’re staring a little bit too long and tune back into Garcia’s case briefing, “All three victims were undergraduate students. Indiana’s campus hosts both undergrad and grad students from the law school and med school.”

“Which means a huge suspect pool.” Hotch points out.

“How are we sure that the unsub is from inside the community?” You look around the table. You can see the way that Morgan’s brows raise at the question. How else are you going to learn without asking questions?

Rossi, however, swoops in to save you from embarrassment, “The first victim had mace in her backpack, however, she never used it. The second victim had no defensive wounds on her body. The third victim—”

“Was killed in an office meeting room. To gain access to that building you need a school ID,” You nod, filling in the gaps. “I forget that technology and security have dramatically improved since I was in school.”

“Come on, kid, at least you had cell phones in college,” Rossi gives a small smile, nudging your arm.

“And how do we know these are all connected?” Morgan gestures to his tablet in front of him.

You scoff slightly and look up at Morgan, “I’m sorry, I know it’s important to find common victimology, MO, or signature before connecting the crimes but how many violent crimes occur on college campuses in this short of a time? They have to be connected.”

“Statistically, some of the most dangerous and violent college campuses report that nearly 10 students for every 1000 will be a victim of violent crime. However, that statistic seems to include any form of violent crime meaning murder, negligent manslaughter, aggravated assault, robbery, but most prevalent on most college campuses is rape as a form of violent crime. In terms of how frequent—” The tall skinny one, Reid, rattles off a series of facts at you and you can’t help but smile. He’s cute. He looks about your age, “That was more of a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?”

You fight a smile at Reid’s confused face and nod. “All the victims had the same cuts on their hands,” Prentiss points up at the monitor.

“Weird,” You mumble under your breath.

“What?” JJ turns to you.

“Oh. Nothing it’s just… hands are a weird thing to mutilate. Damage to the face shows high levels of rage and a deep hatred for the victim, removal of eyes or ears or damage to the mouth could symbolize the removal of a sense in order to punish the victims for some misuse of those senses. But hands… hands are different.” You tip your pen back to your mouth, placing the end on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly as you think. You can feel Hotch’s focus on you. If you turn, you’re sure you’ll just catch him as he looks away.

He’s profiling you. You don’t need to look at him to know that. He was always good at reading you, not that you did much to hide your feelings back then. You felt everything so openly. You were so full of passion, so determined to be the best at everything you set your mind to. Hotch made you realize that feeling everything so deeply, so freely, opens you up to a world of hurt. You put on your best poker face, keeping your body language neutral while you still feel his eyes on you.

“Hands are not inherently symbolic of one thing.” Reid agrees with you.

“So we have to try and decipher why this mutilation is a compulsion for the unsub,” Hotch nods, “Wheels up in 30.” Everyone tucks all their belongings away. Hotch is quick to stand up from his seat at the table, storm down the catwalk back to his office, closing the door loudly. You try to ignore the weird looks from the team as you introduce yourself to all of them.

You watch as Morgan is one of the first to leave the conference room, walking after him, “Hey, Agent Morgan!” You run to catch him at the top of the stairs, “Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off so rude in there.” You shake your head.

“No problem,” He states simply, intending to walk down the stairs.

“I get it, I’m new, I’m throwing off the team dynamic and you don’t seem like the type to trust me immediately.” You stick out a hand to shake his, “But I’m committed to this team and I want to earn your respect in time.”

He nods, giving you one of those judgmental once overs again, “From what I can tell, Hotch doesn’t seem too pleased about you being here. Now just because he’s my boss, doesn’t mean I have to always agree with him, but if he’s wary, then I’m wary.” He avoids shaking your hand. Your suspicions about Morgan seem to be proven before your eyes. He doesn’t trust easily. He’s been burned by someone he trusted in the past. You can relate to that. You’re not a very open or trustworthy person anymore either.

“Agent Hotchner and I knew each other a really long time ago. A lifetime ago. Way before his time at the BAU. I’m sure he’s just not thrilled about his past colliding with his present,” You nod taking a few steps back to let Morgan continue down the stairs, “I just hope… I hope you can learn to trust me, and I, you.” You smile softly. Morgan seems stuck in his place. You can’t tell whether or not he’s surprised by your manners, or if you’ve just driven further the wedge between you two.

“See you on the jet,” He speaks up as he walks down the stairs, scooping his go-bag from under his desk and disappearing around a corner down the hallway.

When you turn to walk back to the conference room, you catch Agent Hotchner’s eyeline through the blinds of his office. He’s watching you, studying you, trying to read you. However, he definitely does not get access to you anymore.

You’re determined to keep your animosity towards Hotch private. No reason for the team to detect that anything is wrong. But throughout the case, there are moments it slips. First, it was on the jet...

You step onto the jet, looking around, taking the entire environment in. You were never blessed with a private jet in your time in crisis negotiation, just stuck with driving from place to place. Morgan reaches across you, taking your bag and stowing it away in the back for you. It’s a simple gesture, but from the look in his eye as he does it, you can tell Morgan is already reevaluating his judgment of you.

You’re one of the last on the jet and you see everyone settled around the table and surrounding seats. The only available seat is the one next to Hotch by the window. You’d have to ask him to get up… or squeeze past him. You try to cover it up but nearly everyone notices the way that you eye the seat before deciding against it. You end up leaning against the arm of the sofa that JJ is sitting on. Once again, Hotch’s gaze lingers on you as you do. He’s taking note of the way you’re actively avoiding him, and he’s right. You’re actively avoiding any alone time with him. Minimize the alone time, minimize the pain.

You run through the facts of the case again, Reid rambling on about the significance of hands throughout different cultures, the importance of sensory neurons on the skin of your hands, and how hand size is an indicator for a lot of things. You share a small smirk with Morgan, who is clearly warming up to you because you both know the one thing that hand size is rumored to correlate with.

Morgan shoots you a small smirk before saying what you were both thinking, “That’s interesting and all kid, but any knowledge in that big brain of yours about whether hand size is related to—”

Hotch cuts off Morgan, “Focus, please.” He gestures with his hand to stop the conversation and you have to hide your smile. It’s nice to smile. You weren’t expecting to feel anything but pain today. Hotch puts a fast end to that feeling of happiness.

“When we land, JJ and Rossi head to the local police and talk to the families of the victims. Prentiss and Morgan, you’ll head to the ME, get a better evaluation of the state of the body,” Hotch pauses for a second. He takes in a slow breath as if preparing himself for what he’s about to say. Once he says what’s coming next, it’s all official. You start your first case. He’s your boss, you’re his subordinate. You’re in each other's lives again whether you like it or not. “Y/L/N, Reid, and I will go to the most recent crime scene,” Hotch nods and you feel the blood drain from your face, that sick and twisty knot growing in the pit of your stomach. You knew you’d have to work with him, that’s part of the job, but he’s already keeping you close to him. Maybe he doesn’t trust you.

From the way he spoke to you in his office, it’s clear he thinks you’re here as some sort of revenge. Some convoluted vindictive scheme to ruin his life.

“You look terrified,” Prentiss tries to tease you.

You look around at the team and shake your head, “College campuses,” You scrunch up your face in disgust and shake your head, “Undergrad sucked because I was younger than everyone, so I missed out on all the fun.”

“Damn, we got another kid genius on our hands, don’t we?” Morgan reaches out a hand to high-five you. “Like our own female Einstein.” Your eyes immediately flick to Hotch. That nickname. No one’s called you any form of that nickname since him. “Watch out Reid, you’ve got competition.”

“I was 14 when I was in college,” Reid states in an attempt to one-up you, but it’s clear that he’s just joking. He knows he’s smart but he doesn’t seem like the cocky type, at least what you can tell so far.

“Don’t worry, brainiac,” You laugh at him, “You are the only genius on this team.”

“And grad school?” JJ pipes up, catching onto the way you dropped the sentence.

“I dropped out of law school after my first year,” You clear your throat uncomfortably, “Wasn’t for me I guess.” The air seems suffocating. Your face is burning hot. You feign extreme interest in the crime scene photos on your tablet, knowing that if you look up, your face will give you away to Hotch. The last thing you want is for him to know how much he affected you.

He said it himself: So in 10 years from now, when you're at the top of your career, know that it's all because of me. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Everything that has happened for the past eight years happened because of his impact on your life.

You remind yourself yet again to try and keep the conversations focused on the case. The team wants to get to know you, but every personal conversation seems to lead back to Hotch.

The second slip-up comes when you arrive at the crime scene...

“She told her roommate she was coming here to study, that she had booked the meeting room just for herself.” Reid lifts up the crime scene tape, holding it up for you to slip under. You give a small smile at the gesture.

“But she told her friends she was meeting with her professor here for extra help.” Hotch shakes his head, pulling on a pair of gloves. You glance over at Reid as he does the same.

He looks at you for a second before he raises his brows in realization, letting out a small ‘oh.’ He digs into his pocket and hands you a pair of gloves. “I usually grab them from the crime scene team,” He nods.

You take them from him, “Thank you.” You like Reid. He’s kind and smart and polite. He’s your age, but you can see that he’s worlds ahead of you in terms of knowledge. You wonder just how much is going on inside that brain of his. When you look at him you can see the gears constantly turning, he’s always working over something in his brain, forming theories, or running through facts.

“She was stabbed in the back and the back of the head, correct?” You glance over at Hotch for confirmation.

“Yes.” He plays with the fingertips of his gloves, paying more attention to you rather than the scene. Without the body, there’s not much to go on, it’s your average office space. You see a log on the wall with the names of who has scheduled the room. They haven’t wiped away the victim’s work from the whiteboard. It looks like some form of math.

“Linear algebra,” Reid speaks up as he sorts through some of the papers left on the table in the center of the room.

You nod and smile, “Math never was my strong suit in school. I was definitely more entranced by a book rather than formulas and numbers.”

Reid’s face lights up with joy, “If you ever want any book recommendations, please do ask. I just finished an absolutely amazing biography about Albert Einstein. It’s not that long of a read. It’s only about 1200 pages. You know I’m sure that I have a copy…” He catches sight of Hotch’s stern expression, stopping himself mid-sentence.

You both go silent as you skim through the pages of work scattered on the floor. You then analyze the writing on the whiteboard, leaning in close. Hotch speaks up again tilting his head to the side, narrowing his eyes in confusion at your behavior, “What are you thinking?”

“It wasn’t random. This was planned out. The unsub specifically sought out her.”

“How do you figure that?” Hotch questions you, but not in the hostile accusatory way you’re expecting.

You hesitate, losing your train of thought the longer you look at Hotch, so you look back to the whiteboard, “When you’re waiting to meet someone, you expect someone to come in, right? So if she had her back turned, writing up equations on this whiteboard, she wouldn’t think twice of the door opening. If you’re not expecting someone and you hear the door open.” You point at the whiteboard.

“You would turn around to see who it is,” Hotch finishes your sentence.

“That’s why all her wounds were to the back,” You fall into a rhythm with Hotch. He’s following your train of thought.

“So the unsub had to know she would be here ahead of time,” Hotch sighs and digs in his pocket for his phone, “Garcia, I need your help.” He clicks his phone onto the speaker and places it down on the table.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Her chipper voice comes through the phone. You can picture her office probably matches her appearance. Probably bright, full of color. For a technical analyst, she probably still has a hefty collection of colorful and funky pens. You remember the octopus mug she was holding when she walked into Hotch’s office this morning.

“This building has a key card access system. Can you access the log of everyone who swiped into this building on the day and around the time of the third murder?”

“Sir, it’s not a matter of can or can’t. You know I can,” Her voice is laced with a smile.

“Check that list for the professor that she claimed she was meeting with,” Hotch adds.

“He…” She trails and you hear the ambient sounds of her rapid typing and clicking. There’s a pause. Her voice grows small, “He accessed the building around the time of her death.”

“He’s our prime suspect. We need to bring him in,” Hotch concludes, “Garcia, you’re the best.”

“Aw I know,” She giggles softly, “PG out!”

“Imagine that,” You chuckle bitterly, “She comes in here to meet her professor, someone she trusts, and she gets stabbed in the back.” You shake your head, the words slipping out before you even realize the weight of what you’ve implied.

Reid doesn’t catch on to the look that you and Hotch exchange. Hotch looks as if he’s seen a ghost. He’s not shocked by what you’ve said, but by the fact that you even said anything. It’s the first sign of hostility towards him. The first crumb or clue into how you feel about him after all these years. The answer is betrayed. You still feel betrayed.

“We should deliver the profile.” Hotch leaves the crime scene at a brisk pace, leaving Reid clueless, and you and that damned twisting knot of anxiety in your stomach.

The rest of your interactions with Hotch are limited for most of the case, restricted to only group discussions that are entirely professional. No more slip-ups, no more sideways glances. What all your interactions were rife in, was that intrusive look of his eyes. Every few minutes you can feel his eyes on you, scanning your posture, your facial expressions, searching for any idea of what you might be thinking or feeling.

You try your best to avoid it, opting to go check out every lead, just for the opportunity to get some space from him. You feel smothered and suffocated. You’re so on edge, you’ve torn your nail beds to shreds. He is seemingly unfazed by your presence. That is if you don’t consider how often you catch him rubbing his fingers at his side or up by his face or biting his bottom lip. Every time you catch him, however, he stops.

You’re having a difficult time reading how he feels about you being here. You just want to know how he feels about you after all these years. Does he still harbor feelings for you? Does he still care about you? The sleep deprivation from working so hard and the excess caffeine you’ve consumed don’t help to slow down your thoughts which seem to be moving at a million miles a minute. At least while you’re working you can put all your energy into solving the case, helping the team, and parsing through evidence.

It gets worse at night when you’re alone in the hotel room. You try to bring the case file back into the room, working on it in bed until you can barely keep your eyes open, but you find that you don’t get any work done, your brain a continuous stream of questions.

You’ve been able to profile every member of the team pretty efficiently. You have a good understanding of how Reid’s brain works. The comfort that he has with numbers and facts. He uses his intelligence to cover up for his social insecurities. Morgan puts on a tough exterior, but really he’s hesitant to let people in and trust them. Prentiss, similar to Morgan, seems to keep everyone at arm's length, preferring to be the confidant rather than the one doing the confiding in someone else. JJ struggles to separate her emotions from the work, a quality that is not in and of itself a flaw, but you can tell it weighs on her heavily. Rossi has the most experience and constantly feels inclined to be a figure, a leader while trying to balance cooperation rather than individualism. He’s used to being a lone wolf, doing the job on his own.

This new Aaron Hotchner is a mystery. He’s closed off. He is entirely business. Even when Garcia cracks a joke or embarrasses herself. You all laugh and smirk at her, but his face never changes. When you all get off track, he sternly reminds you of the importance of the case at hand. That’s his job, but there’s something more to it that you can’t quite figure out. There’s a sense of urgency, as there usually is with these cases, but almost this feeling that he’s constantly running out of time.

Even his office provided you with very little to profile. You remember a few photos from Hotch’s office. One of him and a small boy. A son, possibly? There was another of him and a blonde woman hugging the little boy. Your first guess is wife, but you don’t remember him wearing a ring.

You can’t profile him. He’s closed himself off to that. Yet you find yourself coming back to the same question over and over again, does he still care about you? You get a glimpse at the answer as you and the team track down the location of your unsub, three days into the case.

You lean forward from the backseat of the SUV, looking between Morgan and Hotch in the front, “What does the profile say about this kind of unsub’s behavior once faced with police and authority like us?”

The two men exchange knowing looks. You have your suspicions but you really just want them to vocalize what you’re thinking, “He won’t let us take him in without a fight.”

“Suicide by cop,” You mutter frustratedly, “Great.”

“It’s likely, but that doesn’t mean we don’t try to talk him out of it.” Hotch clarifies, gesturing with an outstretched palm that he takes off the wheel temporarily. He pulls up to the small house, sirens off. “A big show will just scare him into making sudden moves to get us to shoot to kill. Morgan, you head around the back. Y/L/N and I will take the front.”

You nod, knowing the rest of the team isn’t far behind you all, but they’ve all been instructed to try and appear as discreetly as possible. You get out of the SUV, watching as Morgan runs around back. Both you and Hotch approach the door. Hotch kicks the door down. The unsub sits casually in an armchair, holding a gun that he twirls in his fingers. He knew you were coming.

Then Hotch does something that complicates your questions about him. It’s subtle but you notice it immediately. He instinctively moves a little in front of you. He doesn’t block your line of fire, but he blocks the unsubs. He’s shielding you with his body.

Your profile is right, the unsub doesn’t want to be taken in peacefully, resulting in Morgan putting two bullets in him from behind when he raises his gun to you and Hotch. AT first, you think Hotch put his body in front of yours by accident.

It wasn’t an accident. He gave a small look over his shoulder at your location before taking a few steps right, to block you. Then you assume it was purely because of his status as team leader. He doesn’t want the members of his team to get hurt. That also doesn’t seem to make sense to you. No matter how much he wants the team to be protected he wouldn’t do that. He would trust Morgan to get the shot if you two couldn’t.

So why would he shield you?

Almost everyone but you, Rossi, and Hotch are sleeping on the jet home. You have a book out in front of you, but you’re barely reading, just attempting to look deeply enchanted by the novel to avoid any awkward eye contact or conversation with Hotch. The only sounds in the plane are the whirring of the engines, the wind outside, and Hotch’s typing on his computer as he finishes up the report for the case.

Rossi sits down across from you on the jet, placing down a small glass of some amber liquid, which you assume is whiskey, in front of you.

“Trying to get me drunk, Agent Rossi?” You tease him, tearing your eyes away from the book you weren’t reading.

He laughs heartily, taking a sip from his own glass, “I thought I’d welcome you with something from my own personal stash.”

“Where do you keep it hidden in here? You know… just in case I’m curious,” You smirk and reach for the glass. It’s nice of Rossi to sit with you and talk to you.

Rossi just smiles, shaking his head a little, “You did well out there, kid,” He puts the glass down, to roll his ring around his finger. You’ve noticed he does it a lot when he’s thinking. “You can read all the books in the world, but profiling in the field, thinking on your feet, analyzing a crime scene, it’s all much different than the words on a page.”

“I’m realizing that,” You trail your finger around the rim of the glass, “My previous position incorporated a lot of what you guys do here.”

“I’m sure that makes this job a lot harder. You probably want to put the past behind you.” Your head snaps up to look at him. No one told the team where you came from. Even Hotch doesn’t know. “I remember hearing about the incident.”

“The FBI tried to bury their involvement,” You sigh and finish off the glass, noting how smooth the alcohol goes down. You’ve learned how to handle alcohol really well this past year. “They keep all the details top secret. However, that didn’t stop them from throwing me under the bus.”

“What happened in New York was not your fault.” Rossi’s voice drops in volume as he leans closer, keeping your conversation more private, “The brass has a habit of blaming agents instead of criminals. You couldn’t have stopped it. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

You exhale loudly, air rushing over your teeth as you give a little shake of your head in disagreement, “Agent Rossi, I’m sure you’re experienced enough to know this, but as reassuring and comforting it is to hear you say those words it doesn’t necessarily—”

“It doesn’t change how you feel. I know. I understand,” He pauses, “Don’t let it consume you. All of us have been where you are right now. Some of us are currently where you are right now, constantly consumed by guilt over something that wasn’t even our fault.” You get the sense that he isn’t talking about himself. You don't need to reply. The both of you sit in silence for a while.

You start up a conversation again, this time about Virginia and DC, where you’re living, when you moved, what you studied in school, where you grew up. Rossi loves to tease you and every few sentences he’ll simply reply, ‘I already knew that’ acting as if he could profile every fact about you.

You like him a lot. You like everyone a lot. Just as the jet lands and you’re all packing up your desks back at Quantico, Rossi offers to drive you home.

“Let me just check in with Agent Hotchner before I leave,” You glance up at the office. You know you have to check in with him, it’s your first case finished, you’re new, he’s your new boss, but so far, you’ve managed to avoid being alone with him and you’d like to keep it that way as long as possible.

You knock lightly on the open door, to which Hotch responds, “Come in.”

“I just wanted to check-in, you know, with it being my first case and everything,” You nod, taking just a few steps into the office, leaving as much distance between you and Hotch. He stands at his desk, focusing intently on your face. You know he’s trying to read your intentions. He’s searching for the hidden meaning behind your words. And for once, in the past few days, you don’t have any meaning behind your words. You have had enough small slip-ups and double meanings. This time, you truly just mean to check-in.

“You did really good work out there, Agent. You’re a fast learner, you pay attention to details, you work well with the team,” He rattles off a series of compliments, “Strauss is going to request a formal evaluation with me and I’ll be sure to report how quickly you’ve adapted.”

“Thank you, sir,” You try your best to function with the utmost composure.

“Hotch,” He corrects you.

You ignore the correction, “Is that all, sir?”

“If you need anything… I mean I’ve read through your psych evaluations and I know the details are classified but–“ Hotch is struggling with his words. You know what he’s trying to say. He wants to tell you he’s here for you. Funny. Really, it is. Funny that he doesn’t realize the one thing that might send you spiraling is being around him. “I just mean if it all gets to be too much, it’s okay to take a step back. I… I understand.”

“You do?” Your words come out more bitter than intended. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this. You had gone this whole case without snapping. It’s childish and immature. You can be professional. But right now, you can only see one thing: boiling hot rage at Hotch. How could he possibly understand how you feel? You pause to take a breath, “Thank you, but I’m okay. Goodnight, sir.” You walk to the door, wanting to get away from him as fast as possible.

“Y/N—” Hotch calls out, his voice softer, less firm, less professional. “Please,” You beg, finally breaking. Your voice is raw with emotion. You’ve been holding all the pain in for the past three days and your plea comes out sounding more broken than you intend to. You don’t turn around but place a hand on the doorframe. “Please… don’t make this harder than it already is.” You wait for a moment, hoping, praying, that he doesn’t try to talk to you anymore. A moment of silence serves as confirmation that he isn’t going to keep pushing you to talk.

You get down the stairs, meeting Rossi at the elevators. “Thank you… for driving me home.” You try and hide your face from him, hoping he doesn't see the sheen in your eyes as you fight away the tears that have been fighting their way out for the past three days.

“Anytime,” He nods, holding an arm over the elevator doors for you as they open. You think he can sense something is wrong. He’s probably been able to sense something is wrong between you and Hotch since the minute you made eye contact with him your first morning. If he does, however, he also knows not to ask or press the issue.

You flick the lights on in your apartment. You look over the boxes, still left unpacked. Not much of a home yet. You have no place of safety, of comfort yet. You feel like a guest in your own place. However, the thought of unpacking all the boxes right now is way too intimidating.

Deep steady breath in. Shaky breath out. You bite at your lip harshly. You haven’t cried over Aaron Hotchner in years. You drop your bag by the door, kicking your shoes off. You turn to close the door and everything starts to bubble up inside you. The anger, frustration, sadness, heartbreak. It’s all too much. You’ve been through so much these past eight years. This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. But fuck. It hurts.

You let out a frustrated yell. It’s a scream that feels good to let out but ends up scratching your throat. You slam your fist against the door, ignoring the way it sears your knuckles. You pace your apartment, trying to steady your breathing.

You’ve been suffocating the past three days. Three long days of close quarters with Aaron Hotchner. Even after all these years, he manages to suck all the oxygen out of the room, leaving you breathless. In another life, you remember thinking how much you loved suffocating around him, but now, it tears you up inside. Your chest burns and aches, your head is fuzzy, and his presence is dizzying. It’s not exhilarating. It’s not exciting. It’s not all-consuming in the way you remember. You’re just trying to keep your head above water, but the current is strong and the rapids are relentless. You’re sinking under the surface quickly and you don’t know how to pull yourself up out of it.

You walk over to the stack of boxes, pushing them aside until you find the exact one you’re looking for. You rip open the top, tearing the tape off. The box is full of books, one of many that you brought with you. It’s organized perfectly so that when you unpack it you can set up your personal library just the way you had it back home in New York. So it doesn’t take you long to find that book. That damned book. The cover is faded. The dark brown leather is weathered and much lighter. The spine has lost all structure and the pages have changed color.

You sit down exactly where you stand, cross-legged on the floor, you open to that first page. You look at the all-too-familiar note. You were tempted, over the years, to burn the book, tear that first page out, cross out every one of his notes. But you never could do it. Deep down, no matter how bad he had hurt you, the book seemed to remain separate from that.

Maybe it’s because it’s a constant reminder that you weren’t some naive, foolish, young child. You hadn’t deluded yourself into thinking Hotch cared for you. He did. There was some sense of care and attention to detail. The book is evidence of that. However, it forces you to hold on to an image of Hotch that clearly is not the prevailing personality. Looking at the book reminds you of the bashful, almost embarrassed, man who handed it to you in his office so long ago. The careful way he traced your jawline, the way he tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing it out of the way to really get a good look at your face. That image of him sometimes wins out when you think of Aaron Hotchner. You want to remember him that way, but that only seems to prolong your pain. It makes you want him back.

You lay down on the floor pressing the book close to your heart. You could simply pick up the phone. You could just call him, tell him you want to start all over. But you can’t start all over. Being with Aaron Hotchner was a lifetime ago. That doesn’t change how vividly you can remember being with him. For the first few years, you hated him with every fiber of your being. You thought about what would happen if you ever saw him again. You would scream at him. Tell him off, curse him out. But as the years passed, you stopped hating him. There’s a fine line between love and hate. And as you know, Aaron Hotchner has always been good at keeping lines blurry.

Everything in you is screaming at you to pick up the phone. You’ve dreamed of hearing his voice tell you, “Let’s try again... please.” But you fight the urge. You close your eyes, the cold floor of your apartment sending a chill through you, enough to keep your wits about you.

——

Hotch runs a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes forcing himself to stay awake, forcing his attention back to the case report. His attempts to work fail, his mind always traveling back to you. He knew you would be a different person. It’s been eight years. He’s a different person. What he didn’t expect was how much of you is still the same.

That bright look in your eyes while discussing the case was one he had seen so many times while you poured over a novel in his office. You still talk with your hands, punctuating every sentence with a little shake or gesture of your fingers. You crack your knuckles when you’re thinking.

The differences are clear to him too. You don’t hold your tongue. You’re blunt. Brutally honest, almost to a fault. You seem to have pushed aside any attempt at politeness, or social niceties. You no longer feel so openly. He finds it much harder to read your face and body language. Your thoughts are not as clear to him as they used to be. He used to know exactly what you were thinking. He can tell you’ve practiced your poker face. He tried his best the past three days to get a read on how you feel about him. He doesn’t want to dwell on the past. All of that was before Haley. And indulging in thoughts of before is just simply too painful for him.

He walks to the window, looking out at the city. He wonders where you are tonight. Are you thinking about him? Are you hurting? Or has it been so long that he’s unimportant to you? Is someone holding you close to them, pressing soft kisses to your lips, whispering comforting words?

He could just pick up the phone and call you. He could profusely apologize. Not that his apology would mean anything, but it’s a speech he’s been rehearsing for years. He loved Haley with his whole heart. She was his whole world, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t regret how he treated you. Haley showed him a world of love, yet he managed to ruin that as well. He prioritized the job over her. Look where that got him.

Hotch knows you will never forgive him. He has never forgiven himself, but he can’t help but think about what would happen if he showed up on your doorstep. Would you immediately turn him away? Or would you let him in? Would you hear him out?

He shakes his head, tearing his eyes away from the lights of DC. He walks to the kitchen, pouring a fresh mug of coffee. He can’t call you. Too much has happened. He thinks about the sleeping little boy upstairs. Every night he’s tormented by memories. He can still remember what it felt like to hold Haley’s lifeless body in his arms. When he does get sleep, visions of Haley’s dead eyes, his bloodied clothes, Foyet’s knife, invade his dreams. He frequently wakes up coated in sweat, the scars on his chest and stomach stinging with the same intensity as the day Foyet inflicted the stab wounds.

Which is why he feels immense guilt over the fact that three days ago, he shook your hand to welcome you to the team, and it ignited every nerve in his body. Everything has changed, but your hand in his made him feel alive.

Chapter 13: II.II →

[electrictoes]

Time Flies Over Us

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 2: Off Duty 

Characters: Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Fin Tutuola, Olivia Benson, Dominick Carisi Sr, Gina Carisi, Bella Carisi, Mama Carisi, Jesse Rollins, Billie Rollins

Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi 

Warnings: Gun violence

Five time Sonny Carisi's off duty time gets interrupted + one time it doesn't.

Read on AO3

1.

Sonny held his newest niece above his head, grinning as she laughed gleefully - he wasn’t quite hiding in the kitchen with his father, but he was definitely avoiding the living room where his mother and sisters were fretting over last minute wedding preparations. Sonny could have been relaxing in his own apartment, getting an early night ahead of tomorrow morning’s chaos, but his father had needed the moral support so he’d packed an overnight bag, collected his wedding suit on the drive over, and had plucked baby Grace from her mother’s arms as soon as he walked through the door.

He’d put up with thirty minutes of his sisters squabbling over how exactly Bella’s hair should be styled in the morning, before his dad had rescued him with a quick, “Hey son, give me a hand with something?”

The something turned out to be emptying the bottles of beer he had tucked away at the back of the fridge behind boxes, trays and tupperware dishes filled with food for tomorrow’s festivities - according to his dad, his mom had been cooking non-stop for almost the whole week. They’d been left to their own devices, sipping beer and passing the time with quiet conversation.

“It’ll all be over soon enough,” his dad was saying.

“Real positive, Pops,”

“You know what I mean,” his father gestured to the door,  “The fuss, the speeches. Your mother’s worryin’.”

“Ma’s never gonna stop worryin’ about Bella, Dad,” Sonny told him.

“It’s you she worries about the most, son,” he said, watching Sonny carefully as he rested Grace against his chest, her head dropping onto his shoulder sleepily, “You gotta get yourself a good woman.”

“Don’t start that again-”

They were interrupted by Gina, a frown on her face as she held out his cell phone like she was delivering a bomb, “It keeps ringin’, Sonny,” she said, exchanging his phone for Grace.

Sonny glanced down at the screen - five missed calls, two from Benson, two from Dodds, one from Rollins. He gave his father a sheepish look as he returned Rollins’ call - better than getting it in the ear from his boss about not picking up, “Hey,” he said when she answered, and she sighed down the phone.

“I know you’re with your family,” she started.

“What is it?”

“It’s bad, Carisi. Four kids,” Rollins said, the stress of the case already evident in her voice, “I told Liv you’re busy this weekend, but she wanted me to try you anyway.”

“Where do I need to be?” he asked, already grabbing his jacket and keys.

“Meet me at Bellevue?”

“Okay, okay. Tell the Lieutenant I’ll be there as soon as I can. But Rollins-”

“I already told her you’re out tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded gratefully into the phone, though she couldn’t see him.

His dad frowned at him when he hung up the phone, “Duty calls?”

“Yeah, I- I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“What? Sonny, you can’t leave!” Bella said, her arms curled around herself in the doorway.

“I’ll be back in plenty of time for the wedding,” he promised, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he passed her, shuffling down the hallway to make it out of the house and on the road before his mother caught him sneaking off.

2.

It was Sunday afternoon, the first Sunday afternoon he’d had free in a long time, and Sonny just had a few errands to run before he could get back to his apartment, enjoy some down time for a change.

His last stop at a bodega just down the block from his apartment building was meant to be a brief one - just grab a couple of things he’d forgotten at the grocery store then head straight home. He was at the back of the store when he heard the shout - the demand for money, a scream from a woman near the cash register. He shuffled backwards, already reaching for his badge as he craned his neck down an aisle to get a better view.

Standing in front of the counter was a kid - no older than than fifteen. He had a gun pointed towards the cashier; it was shaking in his hand. He didn’t have a mask or even a ball cap covering his face - he was in plain sight of witnesses and CCTV cameras alike. This was no seasoned criminal.

But he still had a gun in his hand, and inexperienced kids with guns could pull the trigger like a startled animal at any moment. Sonny quietly edged down the aisle, making eye contact with the cashier as he lifted his badge.

The boy jabbed his arm forward, bringing the gun slightly closer to the cashier, “Hurry up. And don’t press no panic button.”

Sonny continued to move quietly forward as the cashier emptied the register, he'd almost reached the end of the aisle before the boy turned around, his eyes widening at Sonny’s proximity, at the badge in his hand. He turned fully, so that the gun was now trained on Sonny. Behind him Sonny saw the cashier reaching under the counter, and he sent up a silent prayer of hope that there was a panic button there, that back up was coming. He held his hands up as non-threateningly as possible as he stepped closer to the boy.

“I’m Detective Carisi,” he said, “NYPD. You wanna put the gun down?”

“I’ll shoot you,” the boy said, his finger moving to rest on the trigger.

Sonny was now inches away from him, an arm extended out, a hand reaching for the weapon.

The boy pressed his finger to the trigger.

It was a miracle that he missed, given how close Sonny was, even with his hand shaking there were plenty of places he could have hit Sonny, but the bullet soared over his shoulder, not even grazing him before it embedded itself in a shelving unit. The recoil startled the kid - he’d clearly never fired a gun before, and he looked around himself in panic. Sonny closed the gap between them, curling his fingers around the top of the gun and wrenching it from the boy’s hands.

The kid was shaking even more now, terror in his eyes as Sonny read him his rights.

A patrol unit arrived barely a minute later, taking control of the scene, but the peace of his Sunday afternoon had already been shattered; adrenaline coursing through him even as he gave his statement and his badge number to the patrol unit.

3.

Sonny had insisted he didn’t want a fuss - was happy to go for a drink with the squad, dinner at his mother’s house. Just another birthday, just another reminder he was getting older, his joints a little achier, his hair a little greyer. But he should’ve known giving Amanda Bella’s number would one day come back to haunt him, because his drinks with the squad had turned into a party that mixed his two worlds, and threw half of his former law school classmates into the pot as well.

He would admit he was enjoying it, though - having almost everyone that mattered the most to him in one room; drinking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company whilst making jokes at his expense.

Although someone seemed to be buying him a drink every thirty seconds, he’d barely managed to actually drink anything, which meant he was still relatively sober when the call came in. He was leaning up against the bar, Amanda at his side just a little closer than she needed to be - Gina standing opposite them with her latest boyfriend talking their ears of about investment banking, when Liv came over to them, a solemn look on her face.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, “But we’ve got a case.”

Sonny pushed off from the bar with a sigh, turning to pass Amanda her coat where it was lying beside his.

“Happy Birthday to you,” Amanda said with a wry smile as they shrugged on their coats.

“Told you I didn’t want a fuss,” he countered. He made his way around the bar as quickly as he could, biding goodbye to his friends and family, ignoring the choruses that he couldn’t leave his own party early.

Amanda held back as Fin and Liv left the bar, waiting for him and walking in step with him the few blocks back to the precinct. They were almost there when she stopped him with a hand on his arm, “Hey Carisi.”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Birthday,” she smiled at him and he returned it gratefully. She nodded once before stepping ahead of him, holding the precinct door open for him when they got there; fully disengaged from party mode and ready to throw themselves into whatever darkness Manhattan was bringing their way tonight.

4.

It was their first official date - after Fin’s not-wedding and the kiss he had played on repeat in his head for the last two weeks they had spent as much time together as they possibly could - he now knew the feel of Amanda’s lips on his like kissing her was his sole purpose in life, he knew the touch of her hands, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled sleepily over at him in the mornings, and it was all beyond what he had let himself imagine - but that didn’t stop him from wanting to make a fuss of her - to take her out for dinner and spoil her a bit - to spend an evening just the two of them, in a way their demanding jobs and her two rambunctious children didn’t often allow for. Sienna hadn’t blinked when they’d asked if she’d stay late on Thursday night - something in her face told him she was happy for them, even if she didn’t say it aloud.

He’d chosen Thursday because trying to schedule anything important at the weekend seemed too much like tempting fate, and so there they were, a quiet evening in a small, family run restaurant that he loved - their fingers intertwined on the table, him trying not to say anything too stupid, given how mesmerised he was by her tonight.

And then her cell phone rang; she released his hand to pull it out of her bag - concerned it might be about the girls, but Sonny’s heart sank as his own phone began to ring barely a second later - Olivia Benson coming up on his caller ID. So much for a night off.

“Hi Liv,” he said, “Everythin’ okay?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Liv said, and he wanted to tell her that yes, she was, but that wasn’t how these things worked, so he made a non-committal noise and listened as she told him they needed him at the precinct - that it wasn’t a case that couldn't wait until morning. He could tell from the look on Amanda’s face that she was getting a similar phone call.

They arrived at the precinct ten minutes apart - or rather, Sonny lurked outside for ten minutes after Amanda walked inside - they’d yet to disclose and their first proper date being interrupted was more than enough frustration for one night. When he walked into the bullpen everyone was gathered together, Liv updating them all on the urgent case they’d been called in for - a missing fourteen year old, a suspect in holding who needed a deal to loosen his tongue, and the mayor’s office breathing down their necks because the missing girl was the deputy mayor’s niece.

Amanda had kicked off the heels she’d been wearing earlier - tucked them under her desk and slipped on the old sneakers she kept in her locker - she hadn’t had time to change of out her red dress, though, and from the looks Kat was throwing her way, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He got a similar look himself when he approached them, a raised eyebrow as Kat’s gaze moved over the suit he was wearing late on a Thursday evening. Not the same suit he’d been wearing at work earlier that day, “You on a date too, Carisi?” she asked.

“Huh?” Sonny feigned ignorance, his own gaze trailing to Amanda, trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she looked, how much effort she’d gone to - for him.

Liv was impatient; under pressure and not willing to entertain any charades, “Kat,” she said firmly, “Focus.”

Hours later, when the girl and been found and Kat and Fin were escorting the perp to holding, Sonny leaned against Amanda’s desk, ready to head home for a few hours sleep before they had to come back here.

“You can head off, Amanda,” Liv said, walking towards them, her own bag under her arm. “Sorry to have crashed your date.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda said, not meeting Liv’s eye, “I’ll get a rain check.”

Liv looked from Amanda to Sonny and back again, “Well, maybe the two of you can salvage some of the night,” she said, turning away from them, smiling to herself.

5.

Sonny could feel the insistent buzz of his phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, but he was resolutely ignoring it; cursing himself for not having put it on airplane mode before the show started, but knowing he couldn’t pull it out now. Someone wanted to get hold of him really badly - but whoever it was would just have to wait.

He’d taken a last minute half-day to be able to sneak into the auditorium just as the show was about to start, finding Amanda on the aisle and lifting Billie into his lap so that he could claim her seat. Amanda turned to him, a surprised smile on her face, “You got away?”

“Didn’t want to miss it,” he whispered back.

When Jesse had brought home the invitation two weeks ago, Sonny had looked at his trial schedule and found his heart sinking - the Brewer trial - a CEO forcing his unwanted attentions on the high school seniors who took work experience placements at his company - was scheduled for the whole week. He couldn’t pass it off, it was too big a case, and no one was going to let him reschedule a whole trial around his goddaughter / sort-of-stepdaughter’s school talent show.

He’d made a note of the date and time just in case, and he could hardly believe his luck this morning when Buchanan had requested a recess just after 2pm - an absent witness who had yet to be located delaying the case. The judge had glanced at his watch and with a sigh ordered that court would reconvene 9am the next day. It gave Sonny just enough time to call Hadid, explain the delay, and ask if he could take the rest of the day off - all in one breath as he darted from the courthouse, mentally calculating the time it would take to drive up to Jesse’s school. Hadid had reluctantly agreed, just instructed him to keep his phone on, which he had technically done.

He slipped an arm along the back of Amanda’s chair, the other holding Billie steady on his knee as they eagerly waited for Jesse to take the stage. He’d watched her dance with an intense pride - caught the smile on her face when she noticed him and Amanda in the audience, the way she faltered her steps just for a second before rejoining her friends.

His phone continued to buzz; it had been going almost non-stop for at least 10 minutes now, and he was sure the other parents nearby had noticed, based on the looks he was getting. Once Jesse had taken her bow he slid Billie onto Amanda’s lap, “I’m gonna have to take this,” he whispered, and she nodded in understanding - it was a near miracle they’d both managed to be here at all.

There were 27 missed calls on his phone when he slipped out of the auditorium - every single one of them from his boss. “Ms Hadid,” he said when she answered his returned call, awaiting the bite in her tone.

“I told you to keep your phone on, Carisi.”

“I know, I had something I had to do-”

Hadid didn’t entertain excuses, didn’t give him an opportunity to remind her that he’d been allowed to take the half-day, just insisted he return to the DA’s office as soon as possible. New evidence that could shake the trial’s outcome. No time to waste.

He sent an apology message to Amanda before heading out to his car; he was frustrated the whole drive downtown. Some days it felt like there was always one thing after another, like he’d never catch a break whether he was on duty or not. Still, the next several hours spent reformatting trial prep after the latest bombshell were necessary if he wanted to stand a chance of winning this trial. His mind, though, was drifting continually back to Jesse, standing on that stage with a proud grin on her face.

Although both girls were long in bed by the time he got out of work, he still made a stop en route to pick up flowers to give to Jesse in the morning - and when this trial was over he’d make it up to her, take her out for an Uncle Sonny and Jesse dinner to celebrate.

& 1.

Sonny was once again hiding with his father in his parents’ kitchen the night before a wedding, only this time it was his own, and he wasn’t hiding from arguments about hair and makeup, but rather from the intensity of his sisters’ knowing looks, the baby pictures his mother had pulled out and the way she seemed constantly in the brink of tears at the idea of her baby getting married, despite the fact that her baby was comfortably into his forties now.

“I told you,” his dad was saying, sat opposite him at the same kitchen table Sonny had done his homework at for most of his childhood, each of them cradling a glass of scotch, “Your mother worries about you most of all.”

“I’m gettin’ married tomorrow,” Sonny said, “I’ve got two kids, I don’t know what it is she’s got to worry about.”

His father shrugged, taking a long sip of his scotch, “Ah, mothers and sons,” he said, “Kinda like fathers and daughters,” he added, his eyes going to Bella’s wedding portrait hanging up on the wall behind Sonny’s head. The wall was filled with pictures from every moment of the Carisi children’s lives - birthdays, graduations, weddings - although Teresa’s wedding photo had long been replaced with one of the Carisi siblings at the reception - and an empty patch his mother had already cleared for Sonny and Amanda’s wedding photo, another gap just below it ready for a photo of all the Carisi cousins she was hoping to get - Jesse and Billie included. “You’ll get it when they grow up a bit.”

They were interrupted by Gina, once again handing him his phone with a frown on her face, “You can’t run out the night before your own wedding,” she said as he took the phone.

“What harm’d it do?” he argued, though he had absolutely no intention of going back to work, “It’s not like anyone will let me, y’know, see my fiancée.”

“Dominick Carisi Jr,” his mother scolded from the doorway, “It’s bad luck, and don’t the two of you be arrangin’ a work emergency just so you can see each other. I’ll know.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he glanced down at his missed calls - all from Fin - and dialled him back, “Fin, please don’t tell me this is a work call.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Fin said.

“I’m getting married in thirteen hours,” Sonny said, “Whatever it is can wait until I get back from my honeymoon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fin mumbled into the phone, “I’m not about to get slaughtered by your bride-to-be. You don’t need to come in,” he added, before launching into the reason for his call - an issue with the ADA covering their cases in Carisi’s absence, a disagreement over something Fin was sure Sonny had already put in place. “I wouldn’t bother you, but I gotta get out here tonight too.”

“You better,” Sonny said, “You’re a groomsman.”

He confirmed Fin’s memory of the deal on the table, offered to call Crosby himself and put the issue to bed. “Nah, I got it,” Fin assured him. “And I’ll be at your folks’ place at 9am sharp.”

Gina reached out a hand for his phone when he hung up, but he kept his fingers wrapped around it, glancing down at the lock screen where Amanda, Jesse and Billie all had wide - ice cream covered, in the girls’ case - grins on their faces. “Nah, I’ll keep it,” he said.

Gina tugged the phone from his hands, the same way she’d taken toys from him when they were young. “No more work calls,” she said, “And Mom says you’re not allowed to call Amanda either.”

“What? I can’t even talk to her now?”

“It’ll be worth the wait, son,” his dad assured him, and he already knew that was true.

And he was right - of course - because thirteen hours later he married the love of his life, surrounded by their family, their friends, their colleagues - no interruptions, just them.

[bi-bard]

I’m Not a Party Kind of Person- Malcolm Bright Imagine (Prodigal Son)

Title: I’m Not a Party Kind of Person

Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,298 words

Warning(s): violence within the show’s canon

Summary: (Season 1, Episode 13) (Y/n) was intrigued by Malcolm Bright as soon as he started working with Gil’s team. They were basically best friends within a few days. However, during a new case, Malcolm isn’t blind to the danger that (Y/n) seems to jump into for him... and that makes him aware of so much more.

Author’s Note: I’m back to writing about Malcolm Bright too much.

Please consider supporting my Ko-fi account. It would mean a lot to me. If I know there are people interested in it, I’ll get the monthly donation part set up. 

Support my work? https://ko-fi.com/khoward0 

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I put my hand over my mouth when I saw Malcolm step out of Gil’s car in an all-white suit. He looked at me before pointing at me.

“Not a word,” he said quietly as we all started walking.

“I was just gonna ask... Aziraphale, where’s Crowley,” I asked, chuckling at the look he gave me. “You can’t tell me that you weren’t expecting a Good Omens reference.”

“Miami Vice,” J.T shouted as he caught up with us.

“J.T, be nice,” Dani said.

“Thank you,” Malcolm nodded.

“So, were you able to kill James Bond or...,” she trailed off.

“I am definitely happy that I brought you along today,” Gil said with a smirk. 

We all walked into the crime scene. The body was lying in the middle of the room, an old gun sitting on the ground next to him. 

“Hello Edrisa,” Malcolm greeted.

“Hi Malcolm... sorry, Colonel,” she saluted at him. “I love your chicken.”

I gave her a high five as Malcolm examined the body and crime scene. I walked around the room, careful to avoid evidence, and looking for anything that could help me. Malcolm rambled about the Count of Monte Cristo and how this murder was exactly like the book. 

“Wait, what’s this-”

We all heard the click when Edrisa lifted the body.

“Edrisa,” Malcolm yelled, jumping over the desk and putting his hand on the bomb. I ran over and pulled Edrisa back, pretty much hugging her.

Tensions only went higher when there was another click.

“The bomb activated,” Malcolm explained. “As soon as I move my hand, it’s going to explode.”

“Bright, don’t move,” Gil said as a vest was slipped over Malcolm’s chest.

“Good thing I don’t have a hand tremor,” Malcolm sassed. 

“Are you making jokes,” Gil snapped back. 

I sighed before kneeling down across from Malcolm. He looked at me with wide eyes as I reached over and placed my hands over his.

“What are you doing,” he said. 

“You have a hand tremor, but with the increased weight, I can hold onto it even when your hand shakes,” I replied.

“You do realize that this is absolutely insane, right? It might not even work.”

I just looked at him for a moment before looking down at our hands. He stayed silent for a minute, studying me before rambling instructions off to the others in the room. 

“Please go,” he begged quietly as everyone started leaving the room. I shook my head. “(Y/n)-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I snapped. Malcolm nodded. “Now, what do we do?”

“I never said I had a plan-”

Malcolm was cut off by his phone ringing. He used one hand to grab it and answered it when he saw the caller ID.

“Are you serious,” I asked. He just gave me a shrug before talking. I tried to ignore the conversation for a while. “Is that your dad?”

“Who’s that,” I barely heard through the speaker. “Is that (Y/n)? They stayed with you while you were holding an explosive? They sound more amazing than you-”

“Bye,” Malcolm hung quickly. 

“So... that plan that you didn’t have,” I asked. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

“You really shouldn’t,” he replied.

Before I could respond, Malcolm grabbed the gun, picked his hand up, and wrapped an arm around my waist so I would stand up with him. He shot the window out and dragged both of us out. I curled up, hoping my back would absorb most of the shock. I barely registered the explosive going off as we both landed on our backs on the top of a car... Gil’s car.

“Told you that you shouldn’t trust me,” Malcolm said after a few moments of shock. I looked over at him in silence for a moment before letting out a chuckle. 

“I think that proved the exact opposite,” I replied just as medics got over to us. Malcolm smiled at me. One of those post “I almost got myself killed but I still lived” smiles that I had grown accustomed to... but still wish I didn’t see so often. 

--Time Skip--

“So... you’re just going to sneak into a wedding that your mom’s invited to when she thinks you’re on vacation and accuse someone of murder,” I said. Malcolm nodded. “Wait, I’ll make it better... you’re accusing a woman that’s been presumed dead for years.”

“Yeah,” he nodded again.

“Oh my god,” I chuckled. 

We were waiting in a department store, waiting for Dani to put on a dress. They were going to the wedding to catch the killer. I was just moral support. I was seeing them off and then I was going home or back to the station.

“Go get changed,” he nodded back towards the changing rooms. 

“What?”

“Go get changed.”

“I’m not going.”

“Since when?”

“When was that the plan?”

“The whole time,” he said. “Go get changed.”

“I-”

“Go get changed,” he repeated, pushing me towards the dressing room, looking at the women in the shop. “Will you please help (Y/n) find something?”

“Sure,” she nodded before guiding me back. I glared at Malcolm over my shoulder. He waved at me and winked. I turned around, now blushing and nervous.

--Time Skip--

“You didn’t have to walk with me,” Malcolm said as we got closer to his apartment.

“I’m only a little bit further down the road,” I shrugged. “I could use the fresh air anyway... especially after tonight.”

He chuckled, nodding at me, “I guess so.”

He stopped in front of his door, looking up and taking a deep breath. I stood next to him. 

“You did a good job today,” I said. “I’m sorry I questioned your theory.”

“You were smart to,” he chuckled. “I suggested a dead person killed someone.”

“But you were right, like usual,” I replied. “I am just so happy to be done.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, you look amazing,” Malcolm said. I looked down. 

“Barely,” I mumbled.

“What? You look great,” he insisted. There was a moment of silence. “Why did you stay with me?”

“Hmm?”

“At the first crime scene,” he explained. “Why did you stay with me when I found the explosive?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“But you do.”

“Malcolm,” I sighed. 

“You don’t just decide to do something like that,” he said. “So why?”

“I just... I like you. A lot.”

I felt like I was in middle school.  

He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, “I like you too.”

“But what about Dani,” I asked. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What about your feelings for Dani?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Malcolm said. “I really like you. I think you’re amazing.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. He chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm shook his head. 

I just looked down for a moment before smiling at him. He stepped forward and cupped the side of my face. I felt my heart speeding up as I watch him move. He slowly got closer to me but stopped with only a few inches between us. I leaned forward, closing the space and kissing him gently. 

I pulled back a few moments later, smiling and chuckling quietly as our foreheads touched. Malcolm chuckled with me. 

“I should get home,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he replied before I stepped back. “Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? My treat.”

“That sounds great.”

“Good,” he nodded, looking down nervously. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Malcolm turned around to head into his apartment and I headed down the street. I had never felt so awake that late at night. Everything that had just happened had given me a whole new rush of adrenaline. I was buzzing. Absolutely buzzing... and it was the best feeling in the world.

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