#and my friend probably realized he made me uncomfortable and apologised to me and i just laughed it off but damn

[greg-montgomery]

.

[silversainz]

Hi! I love your work, and I will take advantage of my free moment.. to ask you if you can make an imagine of Esteban Ocon jealous of the reader and his friendship with another driver (who is the ex of the reader)? Thanksss <3

jealously, jealously

esteban ocon x reader

summary: esteban can't stand the fact that Mick Schumacher got all your attention tonight and so he decides to do something about it (obviously based on the request, uptop)

warnings: some angst if you squint, mentions of drinking, lots of jealously, like one cuss word, light fluff. Not proofread, probably some errors.

esteban knew he shouldn't feel like this, you weren't his and he wasn't yours simple as that. but the amount of jealously and anger that was consuming his body that night, from the way you left him at the bar alone and walked over to mick, sitting down right beside him all happy and ready to start your night with him, even though you were supposed to be spending it with him. made him feel beyond pissed off and the way Mick's eyes wandered over your body in that tight dress you decide to wear tonight, licking his lips and just very casually laid his hand on your thigh gripping it, while you showed absolutely no reaction just placed your hand on top of his and left it there.

gripping onto the glass in his hands that contained a strong alcohol beverage, he took in a deep breath trying to relax himself, but the longer he just stared at you and Mick, the more he noticed how much higher Mick's hand was going up on your thighs and was getting closer and closer to going under your dress. he clenched his jaw, his knuckles getting whiter as he still held on to the glass in his hand, which he decided to set down, in case he actually broke it in his hands.

god he felt stupid and embarrassed for feeling like this. he knew very well that you and Mick were exes, but we're still very good friends, who talked on the regular basis and pretty sure flirted with each other on a daily basis Everytime you two saw each other on the grid, and that also made people question if you two even broke up, but they decided to not ask and keep their mouths shut.

but as a result of that. esteban made a promise to himself, that he wouldn't fell for someone like you, someone that was not only way out of his way out league, but also the ex of his best mate. stealing one more glance at the two of you, he saw you looking at him and throw him a small wave, before returning your attention back to mick. esteban shook his head, took in another deep breath and got up from his seat. he shoved a shot down his throat, fixed the selves on his white button up shirt and started walking towards you both.

As he got closer and closer he heard the sounds of your laughter and Mick's laugher mixed together, and that made him question if he should have just stayed sitting at the bar alone and continued shoving drinks down his throat, to get you off his mind. but his legs continued on walking and so he knew there was nothing he could do now.

"hey buddy, there you are" mick's enthusiastic spoke voice up and god his breath smelled like so much alcohol mix together. "I thought you left" he shook his head at Mick and sat down beside him, moving all the empty shot glasses out of the way, so he could lean on the table.

"nope. was just chilling at the bar. y'know alone. my friend kinda ditched me" his voice was laced with so much bitterness and that made you and mick shift in your seats uncomfortable.

"shit, fuck, I'm sorr-

"No it's fine, don't worry about it" he cut you off before you had time to apologise. again the tension at the table returned. Mick looked at his phone checking the time and let out a fake grasp, pretending to realize the time.

"damn I didn't realize the time. I better get going. i-we have early practice in the morning." mick looked between esteban and you, giving you both a soft smile, but you knew there was a hint of uncomfortableness behind it. You cleared your throat as you got up from your seat to give him a hug goodbye, the tension was starting to feel very thick and so uncomfortable.

"see you later hum. I'll be cheering you on" esteban rolled his eyes at your words and looked at the very interesting painting's on the wall. god he couldn't stand to see you and Mick together anymore.

as soon as Mick left. you turned and looked at esteban who was still looking at the painting's on the wall. "So we're just not going to talk about what just happened?" you leaned over on the table and jumped slightly when esteban turned to look at you slowly, like in some horror movie.

"what is there to talk about?" He asked all causal, like he hadn't just made the mood in the room so uncomfortable for you and mick.

"um how about the fact, you were acting, I don't know weird?" esteban laughed and you grew concerned "look if this is about how I abandoned you at the bar. I'm sorry, I haven't seen Mick in awhile. we just wanted to catch up and-

"oh catching up is that it" esteban cut you off again and you became confused when he got up from his seat and sat down on the one beside you "yes, catching up, y'know something that friends do. every once in awhile" you continued on and stared at him. before a smile grow on your face. "Oh I see what's happening" now it was esteban's turn to look confused.

"are you mister-ocon, jealous, that Mick Schumacher, got all my attention tonight?" You poked at his arm, teasing him and gigged when you saw the light blush appear on his face. " yeah maybe I am" esteban said with way too confidence, a wide smile appearing on his face.

"honey, if you wanted my attention. you literally could have just pulled me away from him and brought me a drink instead" you poked at his arm again, causing him to grab your hand locking his hand with yours. "well how about I buy you a drink now and maybe I can get your attention for the rest of the night" esteban asked while looking at you

"y'know what. I would love that" esteban smiled and decided now was the time to say fuck it and risk it "and how about after this, I can perhaps take you home, to my place" he smirked when he saw how red your cheeks got and how you dropped your head into his shoulder, hiding your face from him."Yeah I would love that to"

Sand me some more request for this man. because I'll gladly write them all day long!

[rogue-durin-16]

STICK TOGETHER

Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: swearing

A/N: @meph1stophelian is here putting pressure on me to post this already so I'm apologizing for the poorly written ending lmaoo enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Fred, calm down." George begged me; he walked by my side, trying to talk some sense into me, but it was not the moment. "You gotta understand her— throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone—" I didn't even look in my twin's direction while he spoke. "Bloody hell, Fred—"

"Y/n!" I quickened my pace, leaving George behind after spotting her in one of the corridors, having a chat with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure— Oi!" I hadn't waited for her to reply before grabbing her hand and snatching her away to pull her into the nearest broom closet. "What was that about?"

"Tell me I heard Katie wrong and you're not actually leaving."

"I can't tell you that." She plainly responded, her voice steady.

A single, gobsmacked snide left my throat. "You're joking, right?" My heart ached as if it was being constricted when she shook her head no. "So you're fleeing?"

"What?"

"Things are getting ugly so you're running away."

Her eyes dug into mines as she stayed in a very uncomfortable silence before replying with. "So what if I am?" When I averted my eyes from hers, she called my name. Her eyes were somewhat softer now, with a gleam of plea in them. "For the last two years we had nothing but tragedy. Diggory died, You-Know-Who is back and recruiting, the ministry is full on going against a teenager, this pink colored nasty toad is physically abusing us, and on top of that, I have to put up with my housemates' bullshit for having muggle blood— I'm tired!" Her voice had raised a bit, enough for me to know she was struggling to keep it at bay, but still managed to. "If I can have a life out of this then—"

"You're a coward."

"Fred." there was a warning on her tone, but I couldn't listen.

"You're leaving... people behind," she attempted to reason; I didn't let her. "Dunno why I'm surprised, really. At the end of the day you're a Slytherin for a reason."

Her eyes started to well up, and I couldn't tell if it was with anguish or fury. I knew I was getting under her skin, but that was exactly what I intended to do; if I was going to leave that room scarred, so would she.

"Self-preservation, you call it." I scoffed, feeling my own rage building up faster each passing second. "Pure cowardy."

"Is that what you think?" Her tone wasn't steady anymore; she was holding back the poison of her words, for my sake.

"Yeah." I wasn't capable of doing the same thing for hers. "And I don't want your cheap excuses and emotional manipulation to convince me otherwise." My face was probably red due to the anger, my jaw and fists hurt from clenching them; I was off the rails, and the person who would usually stop me was standing in front of me. "Better leave now so you don't have the chance to sell us out when shit goes down."

Silence fell upon us, our gazes locked, equally watery and with the same amount of fury and sadness within them.

And finally she snapped. "Maybe I'm a coward, but you're a self-absorbed prat who's not able to see beyond your own ego!" The way she said it hurt me more than the sentence itself. "This is not gonna be a DADA class, Fred! I don't want to fucking die because I was too slow casting Protego."

"Good luck, Y/l/n." I curtly wished her before stalking out of the broom closet I have initially dragged her into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We avoided each other for a week. The following Monday, when I entered the Great Hall, I found George and Katie quite depressed.

"What's gotten into you?"

They shared a look before my brother turned to me, deciding to break the news himself.

"Y/n left last night." He gave me an apologetic look. "Thought she'd wait until the graduation—"

"But she's had enough." Katie finished, toying with her breakfast. "Honestly, I wish I had a life in the muggle world too."

My lungs were refusing to take the air inside; I felt as if I would choke if I stayed there, so I stormed out, jogging to reach the countryard.

I needed to breathe.

Even after the wind hit my face, that vital task felt like the most difficult thing in the world to accomplish.

I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her.

A sob escaped my chest, realising the harsh words I had spat at her were probably the last ones she would ever hear from me.

I love her.

A Year And A Half Later

READER'S P. O. V.

I managed to apparate somewhere in the cornfield —the only place around the Burrow I remembered clearly.

I should have landed with a broom, but apparently, Mad-Eye didn't inform Lupin that I would serve as an extra escort for Harry if they were ambushed, so my broom was now smashed somewhere down the muggle road we had flown over.

Mentally cursing the damn moment in which I spoke to Shacklebolt in hopes of being useful in this war, I looked for the entrance of the Weasley home, which took me quite a while.

Funnily enough, it was Lupin who stepped out, wielding his wand and casting yet another hex at me that I somehow managed to block.

With a swift wave of my hand, he was propelled back into the house. "YOU!" A long-haired redhead I recognized as the eldest Weasley helped my old Professor up as I stalked to them with my wand up. "YOU HEXED MY BLOODY BROOM! I'M LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!"

"Y/n, calm down—" Shacklebolt was now besides me with his hands up. "He didn't know you were coming— he was trying to protect George from further harm."

My brain was slow to process his words, but as soon as it did, I started to down my arm. "What happened?"

"Snape hit him with the sectumsempra." My eyes widened at Lupin's heavy words.

"Did everyone else make it?" The three of them remained silent, the ginger shaking his head no.

My breath caught up in my throat, but before I could ask if Fred was alright, another tall ginger flashed the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the living room's door.

FRED'S P. O. V.

Everyone was scattered around the house. Ginny took Hermione and Fleur to her room; Ron and Harry made its way up too; Tonks went out —she needed a moment alone to mourn Mad-Eye—, and, while my parents and I stayed with George, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Bill went to guard the entrance.

I was still kneeling by George's side, holding his hand while our mother healed his wound the best she could, when we heard a yell followed by a strong blow in the kitchen.

I looked at my mum and dad, my eyes flickering to my twin while I reached for my wand.

As I got up, more yells were heard, this time clearer; the voice was familiar— I knew that voice all too well.

There she stood, at the entrance of my home.

Her eyes met mines as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, and my head started to spin. I knew I had no right to do what I was about to do, but after that night's events, in which the war became very much real, I couldn't help but rush to her and engulf her in a tight hug.

Surprisingly enough, I couldn't take more than two steps forward, since she did what I intended to do first.

"You're alright." She mumbled against my shoulder. My eyes shut, trying to block the tears that threatened to fall. "How's he?" She inquired whilst pulling away with a concerned frown.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded in the living room's direction. A quiet sough escaped my lips as she passed by, her hands lingering on my arms for a brief instant before she entered the room and took careful steps towards the settee.

I barely caught a couple of words from George and Y/n's exchange, my mind still buzzing due to the shock.

"What do you say, Freddie?" I frowned at my twin, regretting not listening to the conversation. "She can take my bed, right? I'm not gonna get far anyway."

"Right." I agreed, struggling for my voice to come out steady. It was Y/n we were talking about; I had known her since our fourth year, I had been friends and more with her, seeing her shouldn't be that nerve-wracking.

A couple of minutes later, we were all heading to our respective rooms, and as I closed my room's door behind me and Y/n, it dawned on me that I had underestimated the anxiety that could cause me being left alone with her.

Get it together, Fred.

"If you want, you can grab a shirt from the drawer." I finally managed to speak, motioning at the chest besides the window. She nodded and turned to it to look for one she could sleep in.

Now that I had the opportunity, I carefully observed her, and soon realized how much she had changed in the time we were apart. Not only when it came to her physical appearance; she stood a bit straighter, talked a little calmer; the joy with which she used to sparkle was dim now, eclipsed by a severe, worried attitude— a sign of us no longer being the kids who messed around at Hogwarts.

"I missed you" I knew right away that wasn't the best start for the conversation.

"It sure didn't seem like it." The bitterness in her tone stung my heart harsher than I expected.

"You're still mad?" The way I was conducting the conversation was making me want to bang my head against the wall.

She sighed, turning around now that she had the shirt on to meet my gaze. "A year and a half, Fred. You didn't contact me for a year and a half. I thought we were friends."

"You left me behind!" I talked back, partly because I panicked, but also because I, to my surprise, was still mad too. "What did you even expect?"

"A letter?" She questioned, throwing herself down on the bed. "I mean— I didn't really expect anything, but a letter would have been a good way to let me know you didn't fucking hate me." My eyes, now fixed on my lap, went wide when Y/n's voice broke at her last three words.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, quite ashamed of having to apologise while also being scared of saying anything that could harm her further. "I'm sorry about not writing and- uh... I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's not an excuse but I was really mad and..." I cleared my throat and felt the blush creeping up my neck even before I finished the sentence. "... and hurt 'cause you- I thought that maybe I wasn't important enough to you and- yeah, I'm sorry about what I said." I tried meeting her eyes but they were fixed on the wall before her.

"It's fine." She shrugged, "I guess you were right anyway."

"I wasn't right-"

"You were." She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face there. "Wanna know why I'm back?" She didn't need my response. "They're hunting down my family." My heart stopped beating for a second due to the shockingly deadpanning tone. "A friend gave me a tip-off— they were tracking them down. I got to them just in time." I refrained myself from asking about them —the less I knew, the better. "So yeah, you're right, I was a coward and left people behind."

My body shot up and my legs carried me to George's bed; without me being fully aware of what I was doing or which consequences it could have, I sat down and pulled Y/n into my arms.

Though she was shocked at first, her body soon relaxed into the familiarity of my arms, and she let out a relieved sigh. "You're not alone on this." I whispered, pecking her crown. "I'm here, okay?"

"So you don't hate me?" She murmured against my chest.

Maybe it was the fragility of her voice, or the warmth of her embrace I missed so much; maybe it was this past year and a half of regret, or the night's events, but I couldn't hold back my words.

"I love you."

And even though she went stiff, even if I had just blurted them out almost in accident, I didn't regret saying them, because I, in fact, loved her.

She pulled away to look into my eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." I replied, calmer than I had been in a while. "And I'm really sorry about everything, if I could turn back time—" words and air were cut off by her lips crashing against mines.

We had kissed before, but it was on a bet's behalf or to prank someone; this was different, this was her pouring her 'I love you' into actions, and I embrace it gladly.

"No more running away." I commanded when she pulled back. "From now on, we stick together." She nodded, her forehead resting against mine and her palms on my chest.

[tyblackthornlovebot]

End Up Here || Reggie Peters x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reggie seems to find you the coolest and most enthralling girl he has ever seen. He wishes he could find the way to your heart. The only problem? He is dead, you’re not.

Pairing: Reggie Peters x Fem! Reader.

Word count: 2k

Warning: None that I can think of. Maybe one mention of them being dead? Reggie being his clumsy cute self.

Requested?: Yes, thanks for requesting! “hey! what about a reggie x fem reader based on that 5sos song, “end up here”? with a fluffly ending if that’s possible? ty!”

A/N: This was my first fic so I hope you enjoy it! If you had something different in mind or want to request anything else, please feel free to do so. I had so much fun and loved writing this one!

Once again Luke and Alex had told him to give up on you, that he had no chance. They didn't want to see how, without even knowing it, you ended up breaking his heart.

Once again Reggie had decided to ignore them and to go see you at high school. 

He knew they were only trying to protect him, save him from getting hurt. 

He even tried to fight those growing feelings but it didn’t seem to work so he resigned himself.

He was just too fascinated by the way you acted. The way you didn't seem to care what other people thought about you.

Like every morning since they showed up at Julie's garage he watched as the doors of high school opened. And among the crowd of students it wasn’t long until he located you. 

At first he went there because he was curious. After so many years without going to high school Reggie wanted to see how everything had changed.

Once he saw you there, so calm, so immersed in your own world, he knew that high school wouldn’t be the only thing that would change for him that day. 

From that moment on he discovered that never before, not even in his previous life, had he wanted to attend high school as much as he wanted now.

At the beginning it was nothing more than pure intrigue. Reggie felt attracted to you. There was no doubt you were the type of girl who would catch his attention. So he decided to do some research on his little crush, without telling anyone just yet. 

As the days went by he found himself following you to all of your classes. Marveling at the way you didn't seek attention, yet you always managed to catch it.

From the way you walked down the hallway, seemingly without a care in the world, with your headphones on. He wondered what kind of music would you be into.

To the way you always seemed to know the correct answer when asked, despite spending all your time drawing in your notebook. He found it to be so alluring, how clever you were without having to try too hard.

Soon his friends began to notice, seeing how he disappeared daily early in the morning. And how he would come back whenever Julie did. 

First they thought that perhaps he was beginning to catch feelings for their mutual friend, the only person that could see them. As they found out later when following him, that wasn’t the case. 

They asked him about you, how he felt towards you, what your name was, when did he start going to see you at high school. Endless questions that Reggie was more than willing to answer. A little embarrassed, but excited for being able to finally talk about you with his best friends.

Even if his crush was a little one-sided he thought they would be there to support him, just as he had done many times twenty-five years ago. 

Unfortunately for him he soon realized that he wouldn’t have the same luck. Luke and Alex, after listening to him, decided to list each and every reason why continuing to go see you was a terrible idea.

And maybe they were right. They were probably right. But Reggie didn't need anyone to tell him the truth, he needed them to be there for him and for them to be supportive. After all, he was old enough to make his own decisions. If he ended up getting hurt it would be his fault, because he decided so. Not because his friends told him what to do.

That was the reason why he was there once again, sitting on the empty seat behind yours in your mathematics class. 

Not that he was too interested on the subject, but he was entertained by watching you draw. 

When the bell rang, announcing the end of that class, Reggie said goodbye with a small sigh. He had to leave earlier that day, so he didn’t have time to accompany you to your last class. 

He hated having to leave you, even if you weren’t going to notice, but he had to go and get ready. That afternoon Julie would perform a song in front of the whole high school. As her friends they were going to be there to support her.

So this is how he found himself a few hours later, in the high school gym with his bandmates and Julie, watching a group called Dirty Candy perform.

Although he had to admit the choreography was good and the girls were talented, it couldn't be said he was too focused on them. He was busy looking for you. 

The whole high school was there, so you must be there too somewhere in the stands. 

He only stopped looking for you when he saw the principal begin to give her speech. The stands were completely silent and it was becoming a bit uncomfortable.

The three of them encouraged Julie to go up on stage. They knew this was her chance and they didn't want her to miss it.

Having finished the performances and the speech, Julie took the stage but the students in the audience also began to stand up. The three ghosts encouraged her so she would feel brave enough to start performing.

Luke had been helping her with the song, not wanting him nor Alex to see what both of them were working on. Now Reggie knew why, as he turned around to look at his friend, surprised. 

That was a Sunset Curve song with a few piano changes. One they hadn’t released.

Even if you couldn't see him maybe their music would end up making you feel something. That would be much better than nothing, Reggie thought, unable to prevent a huge smile from forming on his lips.

And then, suddenly, there they were. Up on stage with their instruments in their hands. 

Reggie couldn't say which of them was more surprised, but he couldn't miss the opportunity. Now that he knew you could see him he had to give his best, play like he had never done before. 

He looked for you again in the crowd with his eyes finally falling on you. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you cheer them on. At that moment he swears he could have started crying but he forced himself to maintain his composure. For the band’s and his image’s sake but also because he didn’t want you to think he was crazy.

On the other hand, you were thinking about how grateful you were that your best friend had convinced you to go with them. 

Before that you had come to wonder if it was worth attending, seeing as every year the principal gave the same speech. However that year nothing was the same. One second you were bored to death, wishing you had skipped it as you intended to do at the beginning. The next it seemed like you were in a concert, far away from your high school gym, as you cheered to the rhythm of the music.

Julie and you weren't close friends, but you shared some classes and you got along well enough. 

You were surprised and happy to see how she managed to get on that stage, overcoming that fear that until now prevented her from singing.

The fact that she was later joined by three mysterious boys made the performance even better. All three were handsome, that was undeniable. But your gaze was fixed on the boy in the plaid shirt and white t-shirt, unable to tear it away. 

There was something alluring about him, in the energy he gave off while playing his bass. And when he approached the boy in the beanie to sing with him, you were amazed. His voice, even if it wasn't as loud as the beanie boy’s, had the same power. A power that seemed not only to affect you, judging by how those who were around you reacted.

Besides, he knew how to connect so well with their public that it made you feel as if his gaze was fixed on you all the time, you thought.

Then suddenly and without warning they disappeared as soon as the song ended. 

Seeing how everyone gasped, puzzled, Julie decided to explain the situation. Those boys were holograms and the projector operation involved algorithms and science stuff.

Everyone seemed to agree with that explanation, bored by the technicalities of science. But Julie didn't count on the fact that someone would be very curious about the holograms and how they worked. That someone being you.

“Y/N, we should get going. As amazing as that was, everyone has started to leave.”

“I think I’m going to stay and ask Julie a few questions.” You told your best friend. 

“Like, c’mon. There’s a way you can connect with hot musicians and no one is interested in how to do that? Really, just me? Alright, then!” They smiled at your antics, shaking their head.

“You sure?” They asked, to make sure you would be fine going home alone.

“Positive.” You nodded your head, smiling back at them reassuringly.

It took you a couple more minutes, but you finally managed to get them to leave without them feeling guilty. By then the gym was already empty, except for the music teacher and the principal who were talking to Julie.

When they left you realized Flynn was there as well. She approached her best friend with a not so friendly expression. You preferred not to get in the way, stepping aside to give them privacy. 

It was hard not to hear their conversation. Thinking that there was no one left in the gym, they didn’t speak in a low tone, and the echo of that place increased the volume of their words. And still, you tried.

You were there when Flynn ran out, therefore when Julie ran after her. And you, without much choice, behind Julie. You would have felt really bad if after that scene you witnessed you hadn't tried to cheer her up. At least you wanted to apologise for overstepping and hearing their conversation. Even if you didn’t do that on purpose. 

You also had more questions than ever, that much was clear, but the main thing was to make sure Julie felt better after all that.

Dodging Nick you saw Julie in the distance, entering one of the classrooms. 

Accelerating your pace you managed to reach her. She was silent so you took that as the perfect opportunity to ask her if she was doing alright. 

But before you could step into the classroom she started screaming, scaring you to death and making you jump.

“You! Stop doing that! I’m serious.” You heard her say. You wondered who she would be talking to. That also made you decide that you wouldn't come out of your hide spot just yet. What if she had found Flynn and you ruined their moment? It would be better not to move, to avoid making any noise.

“Yeah, the whole school saw you. It’s kinda freaking me out.” She kept talking to apparently no one. Most likely with someone who spoke in a low voice, because from your hiding place you couldn’t hear any other voices. At that point you were pretty sure she wasn’t talking to Flynn. But still, you were in a compromising situation. If you came out of hiding, she would think you were spying on her. It would be better to just wait and hope she would end up leaving soon.

“Are you kidding? They loved us. That was a great song, Luke”. That’s when you realized she was talking to her hologram band.

You hoped you weren't interrupting anything important. But Julie seemed to be in a better mood and the facetime conversation you thought she was having could be the perfect ice breaker for your questions. Maybe you could even talk for a bit to the bassist who had caught your eye. It wasn’t every day that you had the opportunity to talk to three Swedish talented musicians. 

So you decided to pluck up your courage and entered the classroom.

“Julie…? Who are you talking to?” Reggie heard your voice fill with worry, as your eyes scanned the room. Then he thought about the big mess they were in. 

Julie tried to find a reasonable excuse, but you had heard too much. Both at the time and with the conversation she had had with Flynn, to know that she was lying to you.

“I’m sorry, it really isn’t any of my business. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. Had a few questions about that band of yours, as well. But again, none of my business, sorry.” You ended up shrugging your shoulders. Without looking for more answers. After all, it really wasn’t any of your business. And if she had fought her best friend for lying, you wouldn’t be the one to whom she ended up confessing. “But really, you doing alright?” You sounded concerned and they couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for you.

“Julie.” Reggie called her. “Could we… Maybe we can tell her?” He turned around to face his friends, with something that sounded similar to a plea in his voice.

“Dude, she’s so far out of your league.” Luke jokingly told him. “But if it makes you happy I say we tell her. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Besides everything, you mean?” Alex asked rhetorically. “But I have the feeling that whatever I say you're not going to listen to me, so…”

Julie was listening to them talk, wondering what was the best decision to make.

As Reggie watched your puzzled face, he thought about the possible questions that might had been going through your mind. What was going on? Why the sudden silence?

“Well, Y/N. I think it’s better that I tell you the truth, seeing the insistence of some.” Finally, Julie decided to speak. You seemed more and more confused, even a little offended by that last comment, but decided to let her finish talking. “Come to my house tomorrow afternoon. I’ll show you what all of this is about.”

Reggie could read the curiosity on your face. After so many days watching you, it wasn’t difficult for him to distinguish your emotions. Although, honestly, he was also curious and really excited to know what Julie had planned.

The next day passed quickly for the phantoms, but not for you. 

It was the weekend, so Reggie hadn’t been able to see you yet. He had spent the whole morning rehearsing and doing some breathing exercises. His new friend Google had told him it was a good way to keep calm.

You, on the other hand, were so eager to know the answers to your questions that as soon as the time agreed with Julie arrived you were already knocking on her door. More punctual than ever.

It took her two minutes to open the door for you. Not that Reggie was counting… Well, alright, he was counting. But he was impatient.

Since Julie had told them her idea he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you. He had even dressed up for the occasion, wearing a white t-shirt with the In Utero logo on it. One of his favorites that had been left in Julie’s garage. 

He had combined it with his black leather jacket and ripped black pants. Black shoes and his red flannel shirt tied at the waist. His pendant clinking every time he moved, in a rather attractive way.

Julie (and Reggie, even though you couldn't see him) went to greet you at the door, smiling as soon as she saw you. She was a bit nervous, but determined.

“Let's go to the garage, what I want to show you is there.” She told you, impatient to get there. But Reggie couldn't blame her, he was feeling the same or even worse. “But first, do you want something to drink?” The ghost snorted, which earned him a bad look from Julie. He knew it was polite to offer something to your guests, but this wait was going to be the death of him once more.

“Not really, thanks, I'm fine. Nervous, but fine.” You let out a nervous chuckle, which made Reggie look at you enrapturedly. Julie just smiled with amusement, without saying a word to either of you about it.

Then she made you follow her to the garage. You looked around with curiosity, trying to figure out what she would like to show you. There were two pianos and a sofa there. Interesting objects, but still not enough to find out what was going through Julie’s head.

“I know this might sound a little bit crazy, Y/N.” She started. With that she managed to peak your interest, you were all about crazy.  “But… you remember those guys that were playing with me yesterday?”

“The cute hologram musicians? Sure.” You nodded your head, while laughing. It was hard to forget them, especially a certain bass player.

"Yes, I suppose I am talking about them." Julie tried to suppress a laugh with your answer, as she watched Reggie's face flush completely, before continuing to speak. "Let's just say they're not exactly holograms. And that… they might be listening to you right now."

Your eyes widened, as you felt a little embarrassed. But immediately curiosity took hold of you and you went back to searching the entire garage, looking for a mobile phone or any reasonable device. Finding nothing, you frowned, confused.

“What do you mean by that, Julie? I can’t find anything and I have been looking since we entered your garage.” Now you were focusing on her. You felt like she was going to tell you everything, whatever that was, and you wanted to be ready. 

“They are… ghosts.” She said slowly, trying not to scare you. “They are here, but you can only see them when we play together.”

It sounded like another one of her lies, like the one she had tried to tell you the day before in that classroom. But this one sounded so crazy, you thought it might be fun to go along with it. After all, if she had invited you to go there, it must have been to tell you something important, not to lie to you again. That ghost part could wait, you just wanted some answers.

“So they are musician ghosts?” You asked, still playing along. Julie could tell from your tone that you didn't quite believe it. But it was a matter of time, she thought. 

“Well, they say they prefer to be called musician spirits. But technically, yes.” Then she turned to what seemed to be the void and talked. “All right, guys. You ready?” 

You stayed silent, staring at her like she had grown a second head.

“Actually, can you sit there? Reggie needs some space to rock out and he feels kinda weird walking through you.” You nodded as you went to sit on the sofa that you had previously spotted, still not saying a word. You were starting to get worried, seeing as she had even named the ghosts. “You must have already noticed that there’s no plug or equipment that will produce a hologram. But you can double check, if you want.”

You shook your head. You didn't need to check anything, there definitely wasn't. But you still weren't sure what Julie’s plan was. So you kept quiet, just focusing on what she was telling you.

“We're going to play Bright one more time. It will be just like in high school, but this time you'll know the truth as well.” Julie was explaining everything to you with a smile, but Reggie thought it wasn't going to be like in high school at all. There they were alone, singing exclusively to you. As he ran his hand through his hair, in a gesture of sheer nervousness, he prayed that everything would go well. “Hope you like it.”

While Julie started to sing and play the piano, Reggie felt as Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. He turned to see Alex, who offered him a small smile. This time he took notice of how his friends supported him and that made him gain a little self-confidence. He was ready.

Y/N had to suppress a scream as the ghosts appeared in front of her with their instruments. Any doubts that she might have had thus far had disappeared with the appearance of the three boys. There was no way to fake that. There was no logical explanation, but there was also no evidence that denied what she was seeing.

It all seemed crazy, just as Julie had told her at the beginning, but she had always wondered what happened after death. Finally accepting that she was surrounded by three ghosts, it was her chance to ask them all the questions she could think of. 

Besides, if ghosts were real she could always have had a worse encounter. 

But young, talented and handsome musician spirits? It definitely could have been worse.

Once she was no longer frightened, almost halfway through the song, she was able to allow herself to enjoy the melodic voice of the ghost that had caught her attention and admire the delicate way in which he played his bass.

At that moment she decided that ghost or not, she would like to listen to their entire setlist if she continued to see and listen to his voice that way. Besides, she had always loved that style of music. 

Reggie approached her, cautiously not to scare her and Y/N greeted him with what she hoped would look like a captivating smile. It seemed to work, as he immediately blushed.

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” He introduced himself with a goofy smile, while failing to look cool. Not that he needed to do so. She already found him adorable and that was way better than looking cool.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Reggie.” Reggie loved the way she pronounced his name. An angelic sound to his ears. “Love the shirt, by the way. In Utero, one of their best albums.”

 Reggie had to remember not to stop playing and to grip the bass tightly, because he almost dropped it in surprise. Y/N liked Nirvana. Would she loudly snore at night? Would she eat strange food combinations? He wondered. There was no way such a perfect girl could exist. 

After that exchange of words the rest of the band introduced themselves. Reggie and her talked until it got dark, while the band kept playing different songs so that she wouldn’t stop seeing him. 

It was hard having to say goodbye. In a single afternoon they had both connected with each other as they had never managed to do with anyone else.

Reggie was afraid he would never see her again. Or rather, that she would never see him again. It was on her to decide whether she wanted to or not, and that was what Reggie feared the most.

He had had such an awesome afternoon with her that he hadn't even considered never seeing each other again. But when it was time to say goodbye, all the doubts and insecurities suddenly overwhelmed him. Had she had an afternoon as pleasant as he had? Would she like to see him again?

"See you tomorrow? I'll get my bass. You still have to teach me how to play Livin' On A Prayer, I love that song."

All his doubts were dispelled when she gave him that warm smile, with which only she managed to warm him up inside.

And with that Reggie knew that he would continue to accompany her to class, although this time she would know. And he would send her notes, as he had recently learned to do. 

They would also keep organizing small concerts for as long as she wanted, just so they could see each other. 

It might not be perfect, nor ideal, but it would be one day. Meanwhile they would figure ways to make it work.

At the moment Reggie was happier than ever. He never imagined that he would end up getting to know the girl of his dreams. Much less that she would also end up being interested in getting to know him.

As he grinned to himself, while walking her home, he couldn’t help himself but wonder: how did we end up here?

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing III

A/N: Okay. This one has it all: action, betrayal, confessions, concussions (again), snark, and an ending that is neither happy nor sad, or maybe you make it what you want it to be :) This was so different from anything I’ve written and I want to say thank you everyone for reading it and motivating me to continue loll

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I’m surprised to find Harry on my doorstep this early on a Wednesday morning. At first, I think he’d cracked the case. But he looks like he’d just rolled out of bed, a stubble roughening his usual freshly shaved face. He didn’t look like he had good news.

“You look rough,” I comment. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he blows his cheeks out with a breath. “Ab-so-lutely nothing, literally. I’m hitting a dead end with your case and I feel like shit about it.”

“So...you’ve decided to knock on my door at quarter to 8 and? Discuss the case with me?”

“Well I...not exactly.”

“Did you want to come in? Maybe go through some more of my private boxes?” I ask. I was being petty, making him feel uncomfortable. But I also wanted to just put it out there, so it didn’t hang above us like the rest of our past. The last thing I wanted from him was pity, so if I had to make him feel guilty instead I would own that.

He blushes, just like I knew he would. “M’sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking appropriately self-conscious. “I could do with a coffee if you have some?”

“You look like you need one but...I’ve got to head out soon.”

“I’ll give you a ride in,” he offers. “I...we can just talk about the case. This can be professional.”

My laugh is brittle as I open the door to let him in, like a stray I knew I would regret. “Nothing about this is professional.”

He walks right in through to my kitchen--he knew where it was by now. I put on another pot and the awkward silence settles in. This was exactly how my friends described interactions with their exes, I guess I was truly living the life of a divorcee and it was all very mundane.

“So, did you have a guest over?” He asks. I raise an eyebrow and he motions to the two cups sitting on the table.

I roll my eyes and pick them up, “Great observation skills, Detective.”

“It’s my job,” he rolls with the sarcasm, cracking the ice we’d found ourselves in again. He takes a seat at the table and begins, “So the group that hit your bank hit up two more in the last week.”

“Two?” I was shocked. So many victims, I almost want to make a Bank Heist Survivor Group for us.

“Yeah,” he accepts the cup I pour for him. I sit across him with my second of the morning. The first I had drank with an on-and-off again guy I’d been seeing for the last few months--Alec. I never really let myself get serious with him, afraid to get hurt I guess. I knew he liked me, and he was good to me, but I didn’t want to make any commitments. This morning was the first time I let him stay for breakfast...after that letter it felt like something changed in me.

The letter...Harry...I focus back on his words as I realise he was talking to me, “...last one they’ve actually put someone in hospital--the ICU. If she doesn’t make it, it becomes homicide and-”

“Homicide?” Once again, I’m shocked. These people were really terrorizing the banks, and the police had no leads. Or at least that’s how Harry made it seem: “Any leads?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t say-”

“So that’s a no.”

He looks up sharply before a small embarrassed smile softens his gaze. “Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like a load of useless shite you lot are doing at the station. Three banks and you’ve got nothing?”

He avoids answering, taking a sip of his coffee. “There are some leads, but the group’s really good. I just--I feel like there’s something staring me right in the face but I can’t see it.”

“What’s new?” I raise an eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he busies himself with the coffee. “What? I’m not joking.”

“This,” he gestures to me. “This snarky Y/N is a bit of an adjustment. I know you like your sarcasm, I just haven’t had it directed at me in a while.”

I cross my arms, maybe I needed to dose up my attitude so he knew I was 100% serious. When he catches on, he sets his cup down. “They’ve hit your bank up first yeah? I feel like there’s a reason for that, some personal connection maybe? Have you guys turned down anyone for a loan or anything recently? Someone that might want to target your bank first?”

“I’d have to check,” my mind begins to go over anyone we’ve had come in recently with issues.

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat. “The client you were meant to see--did you talk to him? I was going to ask you when you came to pick up the evidence but...”

“I was too busy to go.” I finish his sentence for him. “It’s weird actually, I called and got voicemail. I also emailed to apologise and reschedule but his office is away, I only get automated replies that they’re out of office or something.”

Harry pulls out the notebook he uses and asks me to write down their information, I was sure I’d written it down for him already but I write it a second time. I push the notebook back towards him, and he places his hand on top of mine instead of taking it back from me. I freeze, his large hand familiar and yet, heavier than I remembered.

“What are you doing,” I ask.

“I...want to apologise. For the other day.”

“Please let go of me,” I stare at his hand on mine.

“If I can just say-”

“Let go,” I say, slower. He clears his throat and removes his hand.

I pick up my mug, and move to the sink. Harry realises he’d overstayed his welcome and gets back up, throwing his jacket over his arm and hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says awkwardly. “And letting me think out loud. Should I um, wait outside?”

I remember I’d forgone getting to work on time on my own for his coffee and case updates. Fuck, this was going to be awkward. “Sure, I’ll just grab my things.”

He waits on my front stoop, talking on his phone and once he’s done we walk silently to his car when I join him. The silence in the car is deafening. I watch his hand twitch to the radio but he rests it back onto the steering wheel without turning it on. After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up.

“So uh, did you want to ask me about what you brought up...the day you came to pick up the evidence? You said you had questions?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him, incredulous. He really was incredibly thick if he thought I wanted to have this conversation now, after this morning.

“What? I’m just trying to make conversation and you’re the one that wanted to talk about it so-”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I only want to talk to you about the case? What makes you think that’s a good topic right now?”

He shrugs, and I once again pray that the other people on his team were smarter than him because if he was the lead, my case was going nowhere.

“Can I just ask one question?” He tries again. I almost want to slam my hands on the dashboard but I sigh through gritted teeth instead and tell him he could. “Did you...ever actually read the letter? Last week...you sounded sort of surprised when I mentioned it.”

“I...” I consider lying. but I go for the truth which is a change for us. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds dejected.

“I read it last weekend.”

“Oh,” he says again, slightly hopeful. “But this whole time...you didn’t know?”

“That’s another question.” I didn’t want to go into what I thought of him this whole time. “I only agreed to one question.”

“Fair enough,” he taps the steering wheel. We’d managed to get stuck in some traffic. “So that box I sort of looked into the other day...”

“I said no to more questions, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he says, neatly catching me in his trap. I glare at him, but his cheeky smile tells me he was slightly enjoying pushing my buttons. I make a mental note to never accept a ride from my ex-husband ever again.

We fall silent, and the letter plays through my mind again, I’d reread it a few times before I tucked it into my bookshelf. I’d decided after that, to take The Box and tape it up. I wrote my sister’s address and left it by my front door to mail out when I had the chance. It was time I let it go, I realized. My sister was having her third child, and I was so happy for her. I had people who loved me, and people I loved. I realised that I was holding on to the box and it was just torturing myself. I had enough torturous things in my life, I didn’t need to be one of them.

It feels like forever until Harry pulls up to the curb down the street from my building. I thank him properly, not wanting to be a complete bitch.

But as I walk around to the sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn back to him standing outside his car with his hand outstretched.

“You forgot this,” he holds out my umbrella. I sigh and go back to take it from him but he holds onto it.

“Are you going to let me have it?” I tug again.

“Yes,” he lets go and I have to balance myself on my back leg. “Thanks for taking me in this morning. And for the coffee...you didn’t have to, yet you did.”

“Don’t read into it detective,” I scowl. “It was purely to get more insight on the case.”

“Right,” he smirks.

“But since you had no insights, it was a waste of time.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” he hisses. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m not telling the people something they don’t already know.”

He narrows his eyes and grins, and my heart skips a beat. It was a familiar look, he used to look at me like that all the time. And I realise that maybe I’d just been flirting with him a little, albeit aggressively but...I drop my smile into a neutral expression. He notices the change and drops his own grin.

“I spoke to my supervisor and I’m going to set up in an empty room if that’s alright. I wanted to interview some of your staff, see if they had any clients who might want revenge by-”

“You’re coming in today?” I feel like he’d just pulled some sleight of hand trick on me, driving me to work only to come in with me. “I don’t know if my staff wants to talk.”

“It’s an investigation, they all agreed to further questioning when they gave their statements Y/N, I’m not going to be invasive. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“I have no choice do I?” I turn around and begin walking up the street. He follows me in.

And surprisingly, I barely notice him in the empty conference room until after lunch when he comes in to tell me he would be back later, that he had to drop by the station for something his evidence team found.

I make a few rounds to my staff, make sure Harry didn’t disrupt their peace. That they were still okay after talking about the thieves. Being on the floor, my eyes continue to dart to the door, eyeing each of the customers.

I lock myself in my office for the last hour, channeling the nervous energy to get work done. It’s a few minutes before closing that I get the email. I rush to open it: the client I was meant to see finally responded.

Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N,

We apologise for the delay in our response, our offices have been closed for the last week blah blah blah. We’re very sorry to hear about the events that occurred in your bank. As a loyal client, we would like to extend our sympathy...

I skip to what I needed to know:

To respond to your inquiry about the meeting we had scheduled, there doesn’t look to be anything on our end. I’ve spoken to the advisor personally, he had a flight out of the city that exact date so he wouldn’t have booked a meeting at the same time. I think this could be an error on your end but do let us know if there’s anything we can provide to help...

I sit back from my screen, my thoughts racing. I read it again to be sure and bury my face in my hands. I read it a third time to be sure.

Adam had specifically told me the meeting was at 10am sharp, the client threatened to switch banks if I didn’t attend. But if they never booked it...I actually had no reason to be there.

Except I was the only one who had access to the vault.

I stand up in a rush, this was an inside job! Someone I worked with knew who robbed this bank, they worked with them! Harry was right, the truth was staring at us and it was so obvious!

I take out my phone and text Harry: call me, the client for Thursday just got back to me...he wasn’t in the city that day?  I think about adding more, but I didn’t want to freak him out. This could be a big misunderstanding, and I didn’t want him to come here only for it to be nothing. I place my phone on my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

I walk out of my office, most of my staff had cleared for the day. Two of them deal with the last customers, but my eyes are searching for Adam. I had to ask him more about this client phone call, what number had they called from? Was he sure it was from the correct offices?

But Adam is nowhere to be found, which was weird because he worked until 5pm.

I move to the staff room, but stop in my tracks when a familiar voice chills me to the bone. I knew the voice, it was the same distinct voice that haunted my thoughts for the last two weeks.

I peek around the corner, Adam and a muscled bloke stand right outside the staff room. My shock catches itself in my throat as my heart plummets; the inside man--it was Adam. Adam had betrayed us all. Shy, awkward Adam. Suddenly I remember all of his jumpy behaviours since the robbery, and all his questions about security before. I just thought he was trying to learn more about the bank. Little did I know...my blood boils but  I have to put aside my own feelings of betrayal when the conversation grows louder. I strain to hear.

“The phone and the fucking card are missing, you better not be the reason we’re found out!” The muscled guy with the voice jams his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam looks scared shitless.

“I swear, I looked through the evidence they returned. I-I gave you the phone back! They haven’t said anything-”

“But that one detective was sniffing around here this morning? That’s why you texted me right? What did you tell him huh?”

“I didn’t say anything, he hasn’t even talked to me I-”

“That’s right. Make something up, a crazy customer from the day before some shite like that. If you even look suspicious to him, I’m going to come over to your flat for a nice dinner and invite my friend with me.”

My eyes bug out when I see him shift his jacket to reveal the hilt of a gun. Fuck!

I reach down for my phone but I don’t have it, double fuck, I think. I left it on my desk after texting Harry. I was an idiot, a big big idiot.

I try to soften my footsteps as I walk away from the staff room but the conversation must have ended because their footsteps echo on the tiled floor. I push into the nearest door and lay flat against the wall inside. I’m so focused on listening for their voices that I don’t realise I stepped into the men’s room.

“-before I leave..” to my horror, their voices stop right outside the room I’m in. I look around and realise I was in the men’s room. My instinct is to hide in a stall but this was a one-toilet bathroom, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In slow motion, the door in front of me opens and the muscled, gun-owning guy looks right at me. It feels like a Western showdown as we lock eyes and freeze.

“Hey...Adam,” the guy calls out to Adam who must’ve been behind him. Adam peers around his shoulder and tenses when he notices me. “She’s in the men’s room! Isn’t that weird?”

“I-Y/N...she usually uses the men’s room.” Adam tries to cover for me but my deer-in the headlights expression is enough to give away that I knew who he was. I was trapped in here like prey. Adam lowers his voice, “C’mon, just leave her here and go-”

“She’s seen my face though,” He steps in and I inch into the corner.

“Look, I can forget your face. We can pretend this never happened please, I really really don’t want to die in a men’s room.”

Tattoo laughs, untucking his gun from his waistband. “I don’t believe you. Adam, get some tape so we can tie her up. I don’t want blood on my hands but if you make any noise, I’m painting this room fucking red.”

I keep my mouth shut, and nod. I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again as I stare at the barrel of the gun. A small part of me wonders how my life could hang in the balance of this man’s fingers, twice, but I stay silent.

“There’s nobody here, everyone’s gone home.” Adam says, more to me. Tattoo pushes me against the tiled walls and pats me down roughly. I protest but he pushes the gun against my skull and I fall silent. Adam tries to step in, offering to make sure I didn’t have anything on me like my phone but I was stupid enough not to have it on me. His friend steps into the hall and makes a call, I assume to his crew.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Adam’s voice breaks as he pats me down gently. I turn to him, with tears in my eyes. I was scared, and I needed Adam to get help. “Adam please, please don’t do this. Whoever he is, the police can protect you I-”

“He’s my cousin Y/N, you don’t understand he will kill me if I go against him. It’s complicated--my family’s complicated. I’m not like them. Y/N I’m so sorry I swear he...” he falls silent as his cousin comes back in. Adam makes a show of taping my hands and legs. I try to whisper, beg him to try but Tattoo notices and shoves me against the tiles. I think I black out for a second because the next moment, he’s pressing tape down over my mouth. I feel the panic I’d kept at bay blow up in full force, along with an ache in my temples. My breathing comes out short and I squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was going to die in a men’s restroom; this was what my miserable life had culminated to.

I remember the text to Harry then, maybe he’ll come. With backup. Maybe he’ll save the day for once. And I think about security, they surely noticed I never left the building, maybe they’ll go looking for me.

But my hopes are dashed when a woman comes in, I recognise her voice as the one who’d pushed me into putting the code into the vault.

“The side door was unlocked,” she tells Tattoo. She notices me and smirks, “It’s like you want your bank to be robbed. Who leaves the side door open after hours?”

She laughs and turns back to Tattoo, tells him that the guards were down and the place was officially locked up. They bring Adam in, and check with him that he knew where I kept my passwords, that he could clear out any money still left at this time of the day. I don’t hold back then, my tears flow silently down my cheeks as I watch them all leave me in the dark. If the police still hadn’t arrived, I really was going to die here like this. I don’t know when, but I pass out, and when I come to again I’m being pulled up aggressively while a familiar voice shouts at the people dragging me. Was that Harry?

H’s POV:

The one time I leave my phone in my car, I miss the most important text of my entire career--my entire life.

Around 2:30, the evidence team calls me, there was a breakthrough on the phone and card from the scene. A few numbers, but they were still trying to process the application for the records. I decided I couldn’t sit around and wait so I drive to the station and rush inside, leaving my phone behind.

It’s a waste of time though, the number leads to a burner that leads to a local shop that leads to a credit card. And that leads to a warrant which could take hours. Two hours later and I’m frustrated and moody. I decide to get some fresh air, and check my phone but reaching for my pocket I realise it wasn’t there.

I head to my car and find it between the seats. When I turn it on, Y/N’s name stands out and her text pushes me to my feet and into my car. I call her three times on my way to the bank but it keeps ringing. Fuck, I think. What if something happened to her? How was it that it was now a second time I was rushing to where she worked, afraid for her life.

I pull up the closest parking spot I can find to see security locking up. I rush to knock on the door but he only glances me, points to the closed sign, and walks away disinterested. I was in plainclothes today so he must have thought I was a customer. I reach for my badge to show him, and realise I’d left that in my jacket in my car. I couldn’t get anything fucking right today. I bang on the door but he ignores me, and the people outside begin to stare at me.

“I’m a detective,” I try to reassure them but they hurry past. It was stupid but I squint to see if anyone was inside, but there’s not a single soul. I see movement cast a shadow at the very end of the room but I can’t see anything with the way the glass is positioned. I center myself at the front again but the security is gone--I was going to have to find another way in.

I move around the big block of a building, looking high and low for another entrance into the building but the next shop over is a cafe so I double back and try the other way. A wooden door sits between the bank and the purses crowded in the store window on the other side. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course.

I go back to my car and find my lock pick kit, picking up my badge was a good idea. Within minutes, I’m in and a sterile hall greets me. I try the door on the left, but notice the keypad. After some bad guesses, I consider who set this: Y/N. I try her birthdate, her family’s birthdates--as close as i could remember. My feet tap against the tile rhythmically when the door knob turns right in front of my eyes. I dash to the side and huddle in front of the next door, rattling my keys as if I were trying to get in. Luckily, that door is unlocked and it’s a utility closet. I rush inside and peek through the crack; a man comes out and holds the door open while a woman opens the door I just came in from.

“It was unlocked,” she says skeptically.

“Shite security, just come in. When’s Russ getting here? He’s always the bloody last of us anywhere.”

Something was very wrong, I realize. But I don’t have time to think, I jump out of my hiding spot and manage to slide my hand into the closing door. I nearly crush my fingers but I nudge the door back open and slip into the bank.

The area’s clear, I move in to investigate. It’s only when I move from the hidden passage to the main lobby that the weight of the situation dawns on me. A different man wraps the security’s hand behind his back and pushes him against the wall. Push was nicer than what it looked like, he practically drags the guard into the wall.

My shoes squeaks on the floor and he looks up sharply, eyeing the area I was peeking out from. I crouch down, next to the trash bin and wait for his footsteps to leave. When I peer around the corner again, a familiar face paces behind the desks. Adam, I think it was, Y/N’s assistant.

It becomes clear in an instant, like a timelapse of a foggy night clearing into a bright blue sky. It was right in front of my face: Y/N’s assistant. The one who’d asked her to come in for a made-up appointment, the one who knew her exact schedule, the one who was jumpy and nervous every time I spoke with him. I thought he was just a shy kid but...he’d betrayed Y/N and been the inside man for these robberies.

I take my phone out, ready to text someone for backup but voices coming my way forces me to stop what I was doing. I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

“I think she’s knocked out-”

“Don’t hurt her,” That was Adam. I recognised his cowardly voice. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without her just, leave her in the bathroom. We can take everything and go.”

“You don’t have a say what goes on around here,” the woman says to him. “Your puny arse is why that detective was sniffing around here anyway.”

“She’s seen all our faces,” one of the guys says. “I’ll do it after you go.”

“She won’t remember, please.” Adam tries again. “Leave the charges at robbery, don’t add murder. She’s my boss I...”

The blood rushes to my head: his boss. Y/N was here, and they were casually talking about killing her? I take my phone out just as it begins to vibrate. I jump and manage to stop it in time, but my badge--the one thing I’d taken from my car purposely, clangs against the metal trash can.

Footsteps rush towards me and I stand up with my hands up, “Backup’s on the way, I suggest you lot put down-” they were all pointing guns at me. Bollocks. “your weapons.”

“That’s the fucking detective,” the one I’d seen tying up security waves his gun at me and I try not to panic. I wasn’t involved with a lot of guns, just the wounds they left in victims. I listen to him swear, “Backup yeah? I don’t hear shit. How did you even get in here?”

“I told you, the door was unlocked. The security here is shite.” The woman says, eyeing me. “I say we tie him up with the bitch and skip out now.”

“We haven’t even taken everything, this idiot doesn’t know the passcode-”

“I told you it changes every week. She must have changed it today.”

“Adam, how could you?” I speak up and all eyes-and guns-are back on me. Adam opens his mouth like a fish out of water but nothing comes out, I watch as he squirms and his group moves closer to me.

“Phone,” the one with tattoos points to the device in my hand. “Check his phone, if he called backup it would be on it.

I curse, they were smart. They’d robbed three banks after this and hadn’t left much behind--I should’ve known to be better prepared.

Someone takes my phone, another comes around and shoves the gun in my back which forces me to walk out into the lobby. They go through my phone and snicker at something. type something in and then toss the phone in the trash can beside us. I balk at the sound it makes when it crashes; the gun in my back pushes me forward and I’m forced to walk down the lobby, through a door and up to the men’s room.

“Wake the bitch up,” one of them men speak behind me. “Tie this one up and get her to open the safe with the new code.”

I knew I was outnumbered, they push me through the door and Y/N’s body is curled in one corner. The freshly pressed clothing from this morning are rumpled around her frame and she looks unconscious. The one who tied up security tapes my hands around my back and pushes me beside the sink.

“Don’t touch her!” I struggle against the arms who hold me back as the tattooed guy hauls her up and slaps her face.

“Wake up, it’s show time.” he shakes her. I push against the body pressing me down as they take Y/N out of the room. Her eyes flutter open and catch mine before she’s dragged out.

“I swear if you guys touch her I’ll snap your neck in half,” I can’t stop the panic turning into rage. “She-”

“Are you sleeping with her or something? Shut the fuck up.” The woman kicks the back of my knees and I fall, hitting my head as I crash down on my knees. She closes the door behind her.

I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like hours. The next time the doors open, they shove Y/N inside and she stumbles. I jump up to help her but with both of our hands behind our backs I accidentally lurch forward and her head bumps off chest.

“God! Harry!” She winces. “Way to hit the one part of my body that already feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Y/N,” I steady her with my chest and lean down to look at her. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“Other than terrify, harass, and manhandle me? Oh, and give me another concussion...hm...”

“Here,” I motion with my chin. “Turn around, I’m going to get this tape off of you and you help me.”

She does as I say and I use the sharp edge of the ring I wore to make a small tear.

“Holy shit that’s better,” she shakes her hands out and gets to work on mine. As soon as my hands are free I try the door, there was a slim chance but we were in a restroom. I had to try. But it’s locked. Y/N speaks up from behind me: “They lock from the outside if you have the key--they probably got it from security. I don’t know who I angered in a past life but this is some shitty karma.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this room,” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There isn’t. But shouldn’t there be, like, backup coming?” Y/N takes a seat against the wall, watching me explore every inch of the tiny room.

“I...no. They took my phone before I could-”

“You came here without telling anyone? Even after the text I sent?” She shoots daggers at me.

“Well your text wasn’t exactly screaming danger!”

“I really have no fucking clue how you got your position Harry, surely anyone else would not be this dense.”

“I’m trying to find us a way out of here, this isn’t my fault! And anyway, it is your assistant that’s set this all up,” I say defensively.

“Sure know how to pick the men in my life, don’t I?” She says, but quieter. Seeing her bruised and hopeless there fuels me to look harder for a way our but after a frantic search, there really wasn’t anything in this place. No window, no vent big enough, nothing to pick the lock. I find a first aid that’s mostly empty, but there’s still an ice pack, tape, and painkillers inside. I crack the ice pack and hand it to Y/N who takes it silently, and then I slump down against the wall opposite Y/N and hang my head.

“What do you reckon they’re doing out there?” she asks.

“They were going to clean the place out and skip town.”

“Do you think we’re gonna die here?” she asks, her voice wobbly like she was about to cry. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just...asking.”

I look away from her face, her expression crumbling under my light scrutiny. She sniffs. Without looking at her I say “We’re not dying here. I told my guys to call me when they have something, and if they can’t reach me it’ll be suspicious enough to followup at least.”

“By the time they grow suspicious enough to track you, we’ll be dead. I’ve not got much faith in your team.” Y/N crosses her arms. Even under these circumstances, she’s fierce.

“They’re close to a breakthrough. It was them calling me that got me caught out there actually. Not even the call itself...my bloody badge clanged against the--it doesn’t matter anyway. But they must have something, they’ll be here soon. We won’t die in here.”

I felt more than hopeless stuck here. Out of the two of us, I was supposed to be the one who could make their way out of this type of situation. Months of training and years of experience, and here I sat stuck in a bathroom with the woman I gave up on.

“What a way to go,” she sighs. “In the bloody loo.”

I want to go over and put my arm around her, maybe I needed the comfort more than she did. But based on the way she crosses her arm and keeps her legs up I know she’s guarding herself. I could read the signs. So we sit there silently for who knows how long. Every so often a muffled noise comes from outside, we hear a crash but the silence after doesn’t tell us whether the thieves had left or they were still around.

With Y/N going mute, I look around the room again but there’s still nothing. She slumps further to the floor, and I seat myself back down again. I stare at her, remembering the shape of her face under my hand, the curve of her hips when my fingers traced them. Her laugh, the way she liked to tease me. If I was dying here, and this was my life flashing before my eyes...I sure had missed out on a lot of it. And if the robbers decided to come in here, and put a bullet in each of us, what kind of person had I even been?

A new surge of energy goes through me, I take the slim door handle and try it again. I know it wasn’t going to open but I tug it, again and again. I brace my foot against the wall and try and try again. But it remains stubbornly closed.

Winded, I sit back down. Y/N just watches me silently as the hope officially leaves my body. We sit in silence.

“Are you happy?” she asks after a few minutes. I look over at her bruised forehead, she raises an eyebrow and immediately winces. I reach over--in the small space, even on opposite walls, she was an arm away. I guide her hand with the ice over the bruise.

“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning back against the wall. “Why?”

She shrugs, going silent. I stretch my legs out and she mimics me, finally letting down her guard as her legs rest beside mine. I give her another minute, and she responds. “Your letter, you said you left because you weren’t happy. So I’m just wondering...are you happy now?”

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?”

“Well, it would make you falling in love with another woman and breaking my heart in the process a little easier to accept...it wouldn’t have been for nothing if you’re happy.”

“You sure have a lot of tact,” I sigh.

“We might die here?” she fixes me with an annoyed glare. “There’s no time for tact when I could get closure? Before I die?”

“We’re not dying in here,” I promise but she shrugs like she didn’t have much faith in me. And why should she?

“Don’t avoid the question: are you happy?”

I give myself a moment, taking in her face. I didn’t know how to answer that without the overwhelming shame and guilt choking me. In a way, yes. In others, no. I settle for, “Sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she hits her foot into my knee. “Sometimes? You cheated on me, and dumped me for a sometimes?”

“Okay wait,” I stop her. “I want to get something straight, I never cheated on you--”

“You did! You fell for some woman a-and you literally married her not even a year after we split!”

“Y/N,” I grow serious. She had thought that this whole time that I... “That’s not how it-” I let out a breath, truly realising what she thought of me this whole time. “Y/N, I fell for someone, sure, but I never even went out with her before we split. Nothing happened! It just took falling for someone else to make me realise my heart wasn’t in it--with us. It made me see I wasn’t happy where I was. But I-I went on one date with that person after we split and it was awful. She avoided me at work after that.”

“What?” she furrows her brows. “So-so who the fuck did you marry?”

I almost laugh, but it would be so inappropriate. “Someone else I worked with-”

“Wow, Harry, you really know how to get around.” She crosses her arms.

“I never denied that--you knew me in uni.”

A small smile cracks her guard but she covers it with an eye roll. “That’s the only thing you’ve said all day that’s actually made sense.”

“It’s nice to see you smile,” I say which earns me a glare. I saw it coming, and that makes me smile. Her glare falters at my smile and she covers her face with the ice pack. I continue, feeling more confident to explain. “Anyway, it was this other person from work, we’d worked on a few files together and she was actually the one who asked me out when she found out I was single. I felt like I had a strong connection with her--to be honest I think I was just lonely and h-um,..y’know. Mistook that for a gem, and married her.”

“I always thought you married the woman you fell for. So you could have a baby.”

I have to laugh at that. “I didn’t want a baby that badly--with someone I barely knew at best.”

She shrugs, “Well we were so tumultuous after we found out our chances were low and you were such a bitch to me about that so what else was I to think?”

I feel like an arse all over again. “I was an idiot, a big fucking idiot Y/N.”

“When did you realise?” She leans forward. “Cuz I’ve known that for years now.”

I rub my face with my hand, she was never going to make this easy. “I thought having a kid would make me happy, make me feel complete; it was the missing thing in my life. So when I realised our chances were low, it just killed my hope of ever being happy. Honestly I think even if we got pregnant I would’ve still been unhappy. I was just...using that as an excuse to..break us apart. It was never about you, I was just too cowardly to admit that I was going to hurt you if I told you I wanted a divorce for the real reason: because I wasn’t happy.”

“So...you made me feel like a fuck-up for not being able to get pregnant instead?”

“I...yeah,” there was the waves of shame crashing into me, I was drowning in it. Y/N just sits there, I can feel the judgement and hurt rippling off of her as she pieces everything together. “I feel awful about that. You really didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her tightened fists tell one story, but the tears pooling in her eyes tells a different one. I slide closer to her, crossing my legs in front of her. “There’s nothing I can say to even begin to apologise for that. I should have just been honest, told you I wasn’t happy in the relationship, in my job, where my life was heading. But I let you believe it was somehow your fault and I can never take that back.”

She continues to watch me, her mouth a tight line as she tries not to cry. But with a blink of her eyes, the tears are streaming down her face. I reach out to her, out of habit, but she shrinks away. So I move back to the opposite wall and watch miserably as she cries into her sleeves.

“I was still unhappy, after the other marriage.” The only thing I can do is continue, I didn’t want to watch her cry in silence. “It took me finding her flirting with another bloke at work to realise we were a farce. I split with her, quit my job a few weeks later, and it was only then I felt free. It was a good feeling; the closest to happiness I’d felt back then. And then I lived with my sister for a few weeks while I figured out my next steps. You should know she was fuming when she found out we split, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Y/N had wipes her tears by now, and listens to me talking in silence. When I mention my sister, she smiles. “We talk, here and there. Never about you, but I still keep in touch with her. And your mum. We had dinner when they were in London last year, it was really nice.”

“What?” This was news to me. “They never mentioned it.”

“Obviously not,” a smile pulls at her mouth and I’ve never been more relieved to see it. “They like me better than you.”

“Ouch,” If we got out of this--when we got out of this, I had questions for my mum.

“So,” she traces a crease on her trouser. “you switched jobs? Found the right fit?”

“Yeah, I did really good there. Moved up quickly. I found something I was passionate about, and it felt good. I think I was happy until...recently.”

“What happened?”

A shout from the other side of the door gives us pause, the door bursts open and I quickly move to block Y/N. But someone pushes an unconscious body into the room with their hands tied. With three bodies in here, it’s suddenly overcrowded.

“If you say one more thing to me, I will put a bullet in his fucking head...” The conversation fades out as the door slams and they walk away. Y/N rushes past me to the body and turns it face up.

“Adam,” she gasps. I walk over and her assistant lays there with a black eye and bruises forming all over his face. She unties his gag and I make sure he’s breathing.

“He’s alright, Just unconscious.” I let her know as she pulls off her jacket and piles it under his head. “He is the one who let these people into your life, you remember that?”

She glares at me, “He didn’t have a choice Harry. I spoke to him when I gave him the code--one of them’s his cousin. He said they were going to break in one way or another and if he didn’t help they would shoot him and me during the process.”

“He had plenty of time to tell you after the fact-”

“Have a little compassion,” she throws her hands up. “He didn’t ask to have a fucking criminal family. Just, let’s wait for him to wake up. He’s been through a lot.”

“So have we,” I mumble but she doesn’t acknowledge me. She moves to her wall instead, putting her hand to her head.

“Let me see,” I slide myself towards her and move her hand away from the area. I pick up the ice she abandoned on the floor and hold it to her head but she snatches it back, saying she could hold it herself, right before she pitches forward and passes out herself.

Y/N’s POV:

I wake up confused and groggy, only to see Harry’s face hovering above mine. For a second, I think that maybe I was living in a twisted Groundhog Day type of situation, forced to relive the bank heist until I resolved things with Harry. But then I notice his split lip and remember my life was that unlucky that I was in the same position twice.

“Jesus, you’re awake.” Harry lets go of my hand which he’d been holding.

“It’s actually just Y/N,” I try to crack a joke. It flies past his head, his eyebrows pinching together. He asks me if I remembered my name, where I was, and a dozen other questions even though I insist I was fine. I was laying down with my head in his lap, I realise halfway through the interrogation. But trying to get up made me dizzier so I stay. He shows me the paracetamol he found in the first aid and forces me to down two, and I only agree because my head had started pounding.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he pushes my hair back. I try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on my skin, how nice it felt. I was bloody delirious. “You have to stay awake Y/N, this is the second time you’ve hit your head I think your concussion might be more serious this time if you’re passing out--”

“Harry please,” I put my hand up to stop his rambling. “Your voice is hammering at my migraine.”

“Sorry,” he smooths down my hair again, and again, like it soothed him more than it soothed me. “I’m not used to feeling so useless like this. But there’s absolutely nothing in here that’s going to help us get out. All we can do is sit tight and wait for one of them to come back.”

“So finish your story,” I ask. “You said you were happy until recently. What happened.”

He looks at me skeptically but I insist I wanted to know. I was finally getting the full story, the closure that actually made sense. And I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The box,” he says simply and I flinch because I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, seeing you and realizing-- this whole time it’s like, I’ve missed you in the peripheral y’know? And seeing you that day, forced me focus on how much I missed my...best friend. And after that, the box? I realized what I did to you...the impact of it? Maybe I was just daft this whole time for not really thinking about it but-”

“I was pregnant,” I blurt out. If I was going to die, I may as well tell him. “A few weeks before our...breakup. I found out. And I was going to tell you. I was-I was just so excited I’d bought some things prematurely. But then I lost the...baby. I’d just boxed the shite away after that. Carrying it with me...it hurt but I almost believed that I deserved it?”

I watch him swallow, from this angle I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. I reach up and my hand lands on his neck, I move it to rest on his chest where I intended. He looks down and I see the tears coat his lower lashes. I think I was half-drowsy from the pain meds but I want to cry with him, and wipe his tears. A distant part of my brain screams at me for being confused and slightly fucked up, but my medicated brain reach up to pat his face. My heart flutters when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He whispers.

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask, my eyes drifting shut. But he shakes me rudely and they fly open.

“Stay awake.” He insists. “And...it wouldn’t have made a difference but at least you wouldn’t be carrying it alone.”

“Well I’m not, anymore.” I yawn. “I told you, and you seen it. And m’gonna mail the box to my sister--she’s pregnant by the way. She might have better use for it.”

He eyes me, “How did that make you feel?”

“You’re not a bloody therapist,” I laugh. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I think I’d make a good therapist,” he says over-confidently.

“You’re the reason why I had a therapist,” I mumble. “You’d be an awful therapist. Your patients would need therapy from therapy.”

I laugh, it wasn’t even that funny but everything just felt ridiculous. Harry’s smiling down at me, but a loud crash from outside wipes it. His body tenses, and I watch the door.

“Sorry,” he whispers before gently moving my head off his lap and onto his jacket he’d bundled. He picks something up from beside him--the toilet seat.

“Why are you holding a toilet seat?” I whisper-shout. He puts his finger to his lips and crouches on the side of the door.

“You were passed out for a while, I had time to make a bit of a mess-”

He cuts his sentence short as the door opens and Adam’s cousin comes in swearing at Adam but before he can reach for him, Harry slams the toilet seat over the guy’s head. I watch it all sideways, my head feels too heavy to pick it up. The man crumples on top of Adam, and Harry expertly searches him, picking his gun off of him.

From outside, the woman’s voice come closer.

“What’s taking so long? The car’s outside just grab your stupid cousin let’s go! The cops will be here any min-”

She freezes when she comes face to face with the gun in Harry’s hand. She reaches for hers and in half a second, Harry’s fired his gun into her arm. She lets out a shout and falls to the floor. Harry kicks the gun out of her hand and pulls her inside, blood trailing in her wake. He uses the jacket under Adam’s head to tie her arms and comes back to me.

“Y/N, let’s go. I hear sirens.” Harry bends down and gently lifts me up. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms but I manage to prop myself enough to walk beside him. He closes the door behind him and checks the handle that it was locked.

He helps me down onto a chair, the brightness of the lobby nearly blinds me, my migraine tearing my skull apart. I think I throw up on the floor, I felt entirely out of it. I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Harry letting in some people, and I feel arms putting me on a stretcher, taking me out into the cool air. The fresh air smelled incredible, and that’s the last thought I have before I pass out.

***H’s POV:

It was a crazy 24 hours.

Right before I’d been shoved into a 7′ by 5′ restroom, my team at the station had received the warrant for the credit card. That was the call I received that put me in the tiny room with Y/N. When I didn’t pick up, Detective Cole had taken the lead in tracing it. The credit card belonged to Adam’s cousin and they eventually traced him to Adam. That was the smoking gun for them, they tried me a few times. Finally, tracking my car to outside the bank. Suspicious, they sent out a few uniforms here and when they noticed my car sitting empty, and no guard at the entrance, they called for backup.

I’d debriefed, spoken and written out in detail, what happened. They’d taken pictures, handcuffed everyone in the bathroom, and I’d watched triumphantly as they walked the criminals out. Two had escaped after hearing the sirens, but at least two would be put away.

I drink my third coffee at the station now, when my supervisor finally comes in to talk to me. Tells me I could go home, finally. To get rest--the paramedics had checked me out and I was okay considering what just happened.

But instead of going home, I drive straight to the hospital where Y/N lay like a shell of herself. A tall bloke in a perfectly pressed suits stands above her, brushing her cheek. I watch as she reaches up and holds his hand, I watch him pull her hand up and kiss it. Then he leans down and kisses her bandaged forehead.

My stomach is in knots; I can’t look away. It was the same person who left her flat just this morning--god, this morning felt like years ago. It must be her boyfriend, but she didn’t mention she was seeing someone. Maybe it was casual, I think. But casual wouldn’t come to hospital like this, caress her like that.

The obvious was that I was lucky just to have a glimpse of her in my life again, long enough to clear the air between us. But I couldn’t hold on to her, when I let go so many years ago, I’d lost my grip entirely. And now she was out of my grasp.

I knock gently on the door, Y/N’s boyfriend (?) looks up.

“Sorry, the doctor doesn’t want anyone taking her statement right now-”

“I’m not-” I unclip my badge to show that I wasn’t there for my job. At the same time Y/N rests her hand on his arm.

“Alec,” she says in a hoarse voice. “It’s alright, that’s Harry.”

“Oh,” I can read everything in the two-letter word and the look he gives me. He seems to swallow what he really wanted to say and comes up to me to shake my hand instead. “Thanks, for helping Y/N tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I grasp his hand, he had a strong handshake. Which was a stupid thing to think about I realise, as my eyes land on Y/N. She’s looking at him with a purity in her eyes that she used to look at me with. Something inside of me falls away, it feels raw and dark. I remove my hand from his, “Y/N’s a strong woman.”

“She is,” he looks at her with the same look she gives him. I felt like I should go, like I was interrupting them. But Y/N asks him to give us some space. He happily obliges, like I wasn’t even a threat to him. With what Y/N told him, everything she knew to be the truth before tonight, I didn’t blame him.

“Hi,” she says, she clears her throat, watching me watching her.

“How are you feeling?” I brush her hair back from the bandage on her head.

“Like there’s a rock concert in my head,” she jokes. “Except it’s mostly screaming.”

“Kind of like that one party we went to in uni,” I remind her.

“I thought the party’s theme was emo,” a laugh bursts out of her.

“It was screamo,” I laugh with her. “My ears were bleeding the next morning.”

“You crashed in my bed that night,” she remembers, her voice soft as the nostalgia washes over us. I take her hand in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. How times changed.

“You know, my girlfriend broke up with me that day when she found out I shared a bed with another girl.”

“Really?” She laughs again, twice in one conversation with me. She must be high on meds, or finally letting me in again. “You never told me that.”

“I never told you much about the girls I dated,” I say truthfully. “A lot of them dumped me after seeing how close we were. There was always that ultimatum: you or them.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I guess you chose me until you didn’t.”

We lock eyes and I open my mouth--to apologise? To explain something? But she waves her hand. “It’s a habit, I’ve got to get all the one-liners I’ve kept pent up out. I’ll be done eventually, don’t worry.”

“I look forward to that day,” I drum my fingers against the bed. “In the meantime...Alec?”

“Oh,” her face flushes as she looks out the door to where he stands on his phone. “Yeah. He’s been...really good, he came over as soon as he heard.”

“How long?” It was torture for me but it was like I needed to know.

“A few months, on and off again. I think I’ve just been keeping him at arm’s length because...well...”

“Us,” Once again, I’m reminded that I could never fully grasp the enormity of the damage I’d done. “He seems like a smart chap--he’s here for you after all.”

“That would make you a smart chap too,” she says which brings my attention back to her cheeky smile. “If you want to compliment yourself, you don’t have to do it in such a roundabout way.”

I laugh, she was good. She grins back at me and my breath catches, this feeling in my chest made me feel like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the old fear of being unhappy had been creeping up on me ever since I got here and saw Alec with Y/N. Now it drapes over my shoulders like a heavy coat.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing,” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Just thinking about everything that happened. And what we talked about.”

“I’m glad that we...” she picks at the thin blanket covering her body. “I feel like I have some closure now?”

“I wish I knew...what you thought this whole time. The baby and...everything.”

“I’ve got a long way to go but,” Y/N rubs my arm. “Let’s just agree to leave all the heavy stuff behind. And live our lives to the fullest. Almost dying in a men’s room has really given me perspective. We both deserve to be happy.”

“You should write a book,” I joke. “It would sell.”

“We can co-write it.”

“We’ll title it Bad Timing,” I say. “A memoir of two people, right place, wrong time.”

“That’s good!” She grasps my arm. “And you could write the whole thing and just give me credit.”

“I’m okay with that,” I would do anything for her.

“You’re the writer after all,” she smiles and it strikes me again, how deeply she knew me. I don’t know if anyone would ever know me the way she does. “Do you still write?”

“Not really,” I didn’t at all.

“I was remembering the other day how you used to leave post-its all over my room-”

“I remember that,” I remind her of a few of my famous ones including one I stuck on her back that said kiss me. She scolds me for that and I pretend to be sorry but she knows I’m not.

“I am sorry,” I say, resting my hand on her arm and she understands I’m not talking about the prank.

“I know,” she looks away, out the door to Alec.

“So I should go, maybe I’ll be the one to take your statement? Tomorrow--or I’ll have my best officer come in here for it.”

“You should take a day off,” she says. “We almost died today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “And we were not going to die today. You’re so dramatic.” I flick her knee and she flinches.

“Ouch,” she milks her current position in the hospital bed, rubbing the spot on her knee.

“Did that hurt? I don’t remember any knee injuries in your file.” I lean down over her and pat it extra hard.

“You’re evil,” she grins but for a small second her eyes flicker down to my lips, and when they meet mine again they look uncertain.

“Alright. Rest up. I’ll see you...later.” I lean down, my lips ghost her cheek, and I hear her sigh. “Goodbye Y/N,” I say, and somewhere it feels final. I don’t dare look at her when I stand up. I walk out of the room, and out of her life.

I think back to the one other time I saw her before the bank robbery. It was outside a grocer, and she’d told me to never talk to her again. I was glad the universe or whatever hadn’t listened, that our lives had crashed into each other even though that meant that in the end she was left in hospital and I was left unhappy again, realizing what I was missing in life. But for a brief moment, in the grand expanse of this universe, we orbited each other again.

As I nod at Alec on the way out. I stand to the side as he walks back in. I hear him comforting her, and I hear her tell him she had to talk in a low voice. I leave then, with every intention to leave her alone. She deserved this happiness she was finally finding as she put our past to rest, she didn’t need uncertainty. As for myself, it felt like it was my burden to bear now; Y/N and I just had bad timing, it felt like, but I just wanted her to be happy. So I let her be; I let go.

[ratherbefangirling]

hi!! my name is sina-cathrine & i’d love a bts ship 🥰! i’m samoan, and in my culture we do have a lot of respect towards elders & our parents. we are also very family oriented. i’m an ambivert, someone who will speak first in awkward situations, unless someone else does. i’m also the type to be shy until i feel comfortable around you haha.

my ideal type is someone who can also be my best friend…and can match my energy. i like to joke around a lot but sometimes my humor is taken a bit too seriously and i always end up having to apologize for them. i’m also very competitive in ways, and sometimes i’m very stubborn. again, someone who can handle my attitude or match it 😭. also! someone with great music taste. personally i listen to a broad range of music and i love being introduced to new music! also, someone taller than me. i like being able to hide my face in their chest hehe (i’m 175 cm)

i’m currently a uni student exploring majors. I’m particularly interested in chemistry, comp sci, & anything to do with media/business. i currently also work with elementary school children after school, i love it <3

i’m a very observant person. i won’t speak unless spoken to at some times, and i like to think that sometimes shutting your mouth is the best thing you can do. there’s also times where i get really upset and just start to rage, without even realizing it. i do always make sure i apologize for my actions/words if they were out of pocket. although i don’t follow a set schedule, having one always helps me remember what i need to get done. i always thank the earth when i wake up for my blessings, and do it before i sleep. i don’t think i’m insecure at all but i do have my days we’re i’m just like ‘wow 💔’ but then the next i’m the hottest bitch i know lmfao. i also think i’m hilarious, and i like playing around (playing fighting, etc.) i’m also very sarcastic.

my biases are joon & hobi. joon, because i admire his down to earth personality and the way he speaks like he’s lived a thousand lifetimes before this one. he made me realize i need to start noticing the smaller things in life, to which i do. hobi, always makes me smile at the most random times. like i’ll see something that reminds me of him and i’m a gone woman! his style is probably the most similar to mine, that man can dress. jungkook is definitely my bias wrecker. he reminds me most of myself; lover of tattoos, piercings, dogs (i have a lab named shadow!), music..i do see myself in him a lot.

i’m uncomfortable with abo/omegaverse and hybrid AUs, but anything else is fine! my fav tropes are idol au, college au!

the ship type will be regular :)

Hello sina-cathrine

I apologise for choosing a heavy storyline but this is something I want to write about and I feel people need to read. Hope you have a good day and enjoy the ship.

The person I ship you with is Jin.

Trigger Warning ⚠️: Discrimination

You take deep breaths to calm your nerves as you finish getting ready to meet your boyfriend's parents. To you family was an inseparable and essential part of life. You could only hope that Jin's parents liked you.

Jin waits for you in his car but when he realises it would take you some time he comes up to your front door.

You're locking the door as he reaches you.

"Hello, beautiful." He greets.

"What if I say something weird?"

"Like you did when we first met." He replies.

You groan at the memory and hide your face in his chest as the recollection of the incident strikes you.

You had gotten into an argument with a racist who asked you to go where you came from and called your tattoo's disgusting. Usually you'd ignore such people but it had been a tiring day and you were done with the bullshit. Jin who was the teaching assistant in one of your classes for the semester had intervened and instead of thanking him you'd lashed out at him.

"What would you know how it feels when you're the exotic desirable male."

You'd regretted it later and as an apology got him some traditional Samoan food when you d overheard the girls in your grade talking about his food channel 'eat Jin'.

And it is not unknown that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

"You did call me desirable though." He jokes.

"Jin." You say hitting his arm lightly.

He only laughs in response.

[spencergourdgourdler]

sleepovers (chapter 1) (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer and profiler!reader seem to be sleeping over at each others places a lot. 

Next Chapter

cw: alcohol?? and none other than that

A/N: This is my first fic ever and I am nervous!! This will be a multiple part series and you will have it all: fluff, smut, and a lil angst. Hope you enjoy and please let me know if i need to add anything to the cw list!

word count: 2k :)

“Here you go, a glass of water for you and a glass of wine for me.” you said as you place his Lego Movie glass down on his desk. Spencer didn’t raise his eyes from the case file he has been reading but didn’t hold back on his comments.

“You really should drink more water Y/N,” which you replied, faking an offended voice. “Hey, I drink enough water, okay?” 

“Funny you say that, because I actually have been keeping track of your water intake. You drank 1.26 litres of water today and with your daily intake of 2 cups of coffee, several cups of tea and well, alcohol I can guarantee you that isn’t enough.” Spencer said as he smirked proudly. 

You rolled your eyes at his smug face. “How- ugh fine Spencer, I will drink more water,” you admitted . “After I drink this glass of wine.” It was your turn to smile now. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to the case file he was studying while you finally got to relax and turn to your book on his nice sofa. 

You have been doing this with him a lot. Hang out. Casually. In silence. You guys would come back from a case, you would carpool to yours or his place and then watch a movie, have dinner (or breakfast, depending on what time you guys land in D.C) or this. You would relax together, enjoying each other's company silently. 

It started after a very hard case, not long before you started and the resident genius offered to take you home because he assessed that you would probably break down, said something along the lines of how dangerous it is to drive while crying. He wasn’t the best or the most experienced driver out there but he wanted to make sure you got home safely. 

You were very shaken up that day, not having seen a brutal murder-suicide happen before your eyes in your life, so you took up his offer and followed after him to the parking lot. Both of you walked quietly to your car and when you got to it you just stood there.Not moving a muscle, just out of it. Spencer was sure he made the right choice to offer his help. Spencer slowly raised his hand and touched your arm slowly. “Y/N, the keys.” You were so zoned out that you flinched when he touched you.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry Y/N, it’s just me. Can you hand me the keys?” said Spencer with the softest voice he can make. “Oh, sorry,” You said with a dead tone then started scrambling through your bag. You couldnt find them. You were sure you were hearing the jingling sound they made as they rolled around your bag but you couldn't get your hands on them for the life of you. That’s when you started crying. 

Spencer wasn’t the best when the case was touching people but he had to get you out of that parking lot and get you to the safety of your home. He shook his hands to remind himself that you were a clean person and he could touch you, then reached for your handbag. He slowly took it out of your hands and put it on the hood of your car. 

“Spen-- Spencer- I’m- I’m really,” you tried to apologise in between you sobs.

“Y/N, shh, I’m right here and you have nothing to be sorry about,” That’s when he wrapped his arms around you and you started sobbing on his very nice sweater vest. He had put one hand on your back that he rubbed softly and one on your head that pushed into his chest like he was trying to get you to hide in there. He didn’t even realise how naturally affectionate he was, but you did. 

The waterfalls that are your eyes were still running but you calmed down a little and the embarrassment of getting your mucus,ugh, on your very new colleague was starting to dawn on you.

“Spencer, I’m fine, let’s just go home, okay?” You managed to muster out while you squeezed yourself out of his embrace and tried to hide your face from him. You reached for your bag and once again out your hands into it looking for your keys. There they were, stuck underneath some papers that you threw in your bag. 

Spencer stood there, doubting himself. Did he cross the line? Was hugging you unprofessional? Did he make you uncomfortable? He had once read a research about hugs calming down the sympathetic nervous system under distress so he tried to help you calm down a little. It wasn’t his intent to make you uncomfortable. Oh god, he thought to himself, now Y/N thinks I’m weird too. 

He was pulled out of his little freak out by Y/N handing him the keys. He pushed his lips together in a really awkward smile and started stepping towards the driver’s side.

The drive was pretty weird. He drove too carefully and there was his colleague silently crying in the next seat to him. His mind was still swarming with the ideas of him doubting his choice of hugging Y/N, her quiet voice took him out of it. “Spencer, I can’t thank you enough. You really helped and I know I’m not very good with words but I really do appreciate this.” 

Spencer was shocked. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn't expecting a talk at all. So he stammered trying to answer her. “Uh, yeah- yeah, sure,” 

While his conscious mind was going between doubting himself and oh shit, she’s crying, what do i do, his subconscious mind had led him to his house. He realized it when he was at the last traffic lights before home.

“Y/N, I’m afraid I drove all the way to my house,”

She raised her head from her hands on her knees slowly and looked around her, clueless. Spencer was quick to apologise. “I’ll turn around at the next U-turn and we’ll get to your place. What's your address?”

You didn’t want to bother him driving all this way and back, also you were starving and sleepy. “Spencer, if you don’t mind, can we go up to your place? I don’t really wanna bother you with driving all the way to mine, also I am so tired and I assume you are too?”

Y/N kept surprising Spencer tonight. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine- Yeah, we can order takeout too, yeah, yes.” She almost giggled at his nervousness.

He pulled up to the parking spot of his apartment complex and you two silently walked up the stairs to his apartment. He welcomed you in, “So, this is my place, ugh so sorry this is very messy,” 

Spencer was very skittish about touching people and letting people into his place. He did both of them with you that night and he was weirdly okay with it.  

“It’s perfectly fine Reid, hell, looks a lot neater than mine honestly.” You smiled while you awkwardly stood in the entrance. Spencer had already taken his coat off and was walking into the depths of his house. He kinda yelled from across the house, “Please come in Y/N, I will be there in just a second to take your coat. What do you wanna eat? I know this Indian place that makes great chicken tendoori that delivers.” His voice was getting closer and closer while he got back to his living room. 

“Spencer, I am a vegetarian.” you said while he took your coat and hung it over a chair.

“Oh, sorry, I somehow didn’t know, but they should have vegetarian items on the menu, let me go find it for you. Do you want a drink? I have water, coffee, all kinds of tea you can ask for annnd,” He was scrambling through his kitchen cabinets now. “Wine, yeah, what can i get you?” 

“Wine would be nice,” you kind of yelled from the living room. You did not want to yell but you also didn't want to follow him around or go looking for him, invading his place. 

He came after a few minutes, a glass of water and a menu, you assumed, in one hand and your glass of wine in the other.

“Here you go, a glass of water for me and a glass of wine for you, are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?” He put the classes on the coffee table and handed you the menu. “While I’m not completely sold on the idea of you drinking before dinner, what do you wanna get Y/N? I can also call the pizza place that’s close and we can get all the toppings you’d like.” When you thought he stopped talking and opened your mouth, he started to ramble again. “I’m sorry I know I said we could get all the toppings you wanted but I have issues with grouped foods and can we maybe stick to the basics and get a mushroom pizza?” He was embarrassed but you smiled so widely that his embarrassment washed away and his chest filled with relief.

“Yeah, Reid, I’d like that.” 

Thus began your sleepovers. That night he had given you a spare toothbrush, some of his clothes, clean towels for your shower in the morning, and his bed. Genius took the couch that night, “That’s the least I can do,” he said, even after all he had done for you. You would much rather have him beside you but you would never admit to that and he would never agree to it anyways. 

Second time you two had a sleepover, it was Reid who was struggling and you offered your sweet but lonely home to him. This kept going on between you two, there were rarely nights where you slept at your place alone. 

Spencer called you from his grocery store run one day, asked you about your shampoo brand. And would you rather use a vanilla or lavender body wash. 

You texted him asking about his after-shave and razor brand he uses after he slept over at your place and had to go to work with a scruff. You felt bad for people making fun of him and his “big boy beard”. 

Spencer was really glad, while he didn’t have a lot of affectionate relationships like this, he didn’t mind having you around at all. You were really glad, you didn’t go to bed in a lonely house, that you made really good friends with Dr. Spencer Reid.

You finished your wine while flipping pages on your book and your eyelids started to feel heavy. “Spencer, I’m really sleepy,” 

He had moved to the end of the couch with you, you were lying down but your legs were barely close to him.

“I’ll be done in just a second and I’ll let u sleep Y/N,” 

You were feeling the wine and you felt courageous that night. You carefully got up to your knees and crawled towards him on the sofa. When you got to him you slightly nudged his arm to let you in and he lifted his arm to embrace you. “Oh, hi,” he said. “I thought you were sleepy.” Was there a smile in his voice or were you just hearing things? “Yeah, and I am using my favorite pillow.” Stupid wine talk.

He chuckled slightly to my words. “Okay, let’s go to bed, I was almost done anyways. I can finish it up tomorrow.” Now, you felt bad for interrupting his work. Stupid wine.

“Oh, no, no, nooo! I can wait for you to finish, really, look! My eyes are all open,” You opened your eyes wide while you looked up at him in his arms. He chuckled again. Oh, that chuckle. Stupid wine.

“You look a little flushed.” Spencer said while dragging his hand over your flaming cheeks softly. “Yeah, wine does that.” No, Spencer does that, Y/N, don’t lie to yourself. 

His eyes were looking into yours so tenderly that you debated if this was a dream or not. Then something happened that raised your suspicions of dreaming.

He slowly put his lips on yours. Oh, stupid wine. 

Next Chapter

[mrs-dynamight]

Be Nice To Me 3

Part 2.

*************************************************

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader, Denki Kaminari x fem!Reader

Warnings: Eventual mature content, angst, hurt/comfort, love triangle, the reader is lowkey toxic, everything will be adressed in every episode (:

Chapter warning: Swearing but just a little bit of it. Kissing because this is still on fluff mode

Chapter: 3/? Yup still don't know

Synopsis: You're in love with your best friend Bakugou, and you're cofessing to him but things get a lot more complicated when Denki starts to treat you different *wink wink*

Word count: 2.2k

Author's note: Okay friends, this is a little longer but it's cute, and it has some interesting things that will be relevant to the story, so read carefully, aaaand I must warn this is a slowburn. Hope you like it

Chapter 3 My Oh My - Aqua

We both left the empty classroom and went directly to class 3A. Tenya saw us coming late and started rambling about how punctuality is key for heroes and how we as seniors should give example and just Tenya stuff.

The rest of the class went pretty fast, I was thinking about what Denki said, he sounded so serious when he said the gig stuff, maybe I was overthinking, he has always been nice with me, just nice, we are friends right?

All those years getting to know each other, being partners in crime, spending too many nights wide awake talking about our future, the amount of pressure being a “hero” meant, how at the end of the day we were still children risking our lives, he understood that better than most of our friends; some of his words were burned in my mind forever: “I love helping people, but sometimes I wonder who’s helping us?” “I’m afraid I’ll turn into a puppet of the hero commission, like Hawks did” “I’m afraid of losing myself in the process”; as far as I know I was the only one that knew this side of Kaminari, everyone else always thought of him as the dyslexic class clown, but there were so much more of him that only jokes and a funny face after using his quirk, such a complex mind, sometimes I wonder if he plays dumb on propose…

Thinking about Denki almost made me forgot how nervous I was for my date with Katsuki, but the ring of the bell that indicates the end of the class made me jump from my desk in excitement.

-Oi dumbass, see you in a while, be punctual- Bakugo said picking up his stuff and heading to the door without looking back at me.

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

We talked about nothing in the way to the ramen restaurant, I wasn’t as nervous as I were on Monday and everything seemed to be going so smoothly, just as I thought, this was Bakugo Katsuki my best friend, the guy I was in love with, he had seen me covered in sweat and bruises from the hero training, had seen me cry over my failed math tests, he knew me, if he didn’t like me back I could deal with it, but this date definitely won’t ruin our friendship.

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

-Don’t make me laugh when I’m eating, you idiot- Bakugo said between coughs from almost choking with his noodles

-I didn’t mean it, but it’s true my greatest fear are those wacky waving inflatable things they put in the cars sales, they scare the shit out of me- I said laughing and with a bit of embarrassment for telling this stupid thing to my crush, but he found it hilarious

-I’ve seen you take down villains with a single hand and without sweating a single drop, but your greatest fear is ridiculous Y/N-

That kinda sounded like a compliment, and knowing Katsuki it probably was, I couldn’t help but blush but if someone asked me it was the spiciness of the ramen.

-I’m also a little bit afraid of heights, not as I used to, but it makes me a little bit nervous thinking about falling to my inevitable death- I said slurping the last of the broth in my plate

-Heights? No way, that means we can’t go rock climbing because of a certain pussy- Said the ash blonde, finishing his ramen as well

-Why? Is Bakugo Katsuki planning on taking me on a road trip anytime soon? – Oh shit that sounded way more flirty than I had planned.

I turned bright red right after I said that and to my surprise the boy in front of me was just as red as I was, that’s it I just made Katsuki Bakugo blush, I can die a hero now. We were not looking at each other, not saying a single word, just awkwardly sitting in front of each other.

-I… I was joking ´Tsuki- I began but he interrupted me with

-Maybe I want to take you to a stupid road trip, what you’re going to do about it? You can chicken now and saving me seeing you cry in front of a rock, but that wouldn’t be very Y/N of you- Aaaaand just like that Bakugo’s back

-Let’s go, Draw, I still wanna kick your ass in Mario Kart before curfew and knowing you, you will want to play those claw things and get some weird weeb thing, like a figure of that loud anime guy you like, the one who plays Volleyball; and of course you will be wasting all your money in the process- This man knows me damn too well

I was about getting my money to pay but he stopped me

-I got this-

-But ‘Tsuki I invited you, I have to pay for it- I said but the waitress had already taken Katsukis money

-If you beat me at Mario Kart, I’ll let you pay me back, but if I win… Well we will see about that later- Bakugo said without looking at me

Was that flirting? Is Katsuki Bakugo flirting with me? Did he noticed this was a date and that’s why he wanted to pay? Nah, he’s probably doing it to bother me, but if anything made me bush a little.

-Oi, you coming or what? – I was so caught up in the emotion that I didn’t noticed he was already heading to the front door

We walked a couple of blocks to the arcade, it was still early in the afternoon, we had a couple of hours before our curfew and I was going to make the best of them.

--------

After the tenth time losing against him, I gave up.

-This is bullshit, I don’t know how but you’re cheating, there is no way I actually hit all those frigging banana peels, this game sucks, you suck- I said making an overdramatic mouth pout and crossing my arms on my chest.

I could hear Bakugos laughing on my side and when I turned to look at him, he had the most gorgeous look on his eyes, but when he noticed that I was looking at him he changed his expression.

-I told you so, you can’t beat me, but I’m a compassionate God, so I’ll let you choose the next game for you to lose in- His big smile was equally irritating as it was beautiful

Three games in and Bakugo was about to blow the whole arcade up, apparently, he can’t dance to save his life, so Dance Dance Revolution was the perfect game for me to choose. I was literally tearing up from laughter, he was so angry and upset.

-If you had spending more time with Mina and me you could have learned a couple of steps, but you had to go sleeping at eight like an old man-

-Have you seen this face? This is what a good sleep schedule does to your skin, but I guess you’ll never know about that-

-Oh god, is that a pimple? – I joked to make him even angrier, I leaned towards his face to mock him more -Oh he has a brother, and a whole family of angry little buds, this even looks like you-

He turned his head and his nose was almost an inch away from mine, his eyes locked with mines, we were so close that I could feel his breath, a little bit more and our lips would be touching, my mind was going blank, I suddenly forgot how to breathe, I thought that it was actually happening, I should close my eyes and go for it, I leant a bit closer, we were almost there…

-Y/N, we both know there is not a single pimple in this face- Said Bakugo moving his head back and creating some distance between us.

I felt my heart drop to the ground. He didn’t wanna kiss me, I probably made him uncomfortable being that close, I’m so stupid, I fucked up.

-There is the claw machine of the Volleyball dudes, and there is the owl one you like- Bakugo was trying to be a good friend to me, and as much as I appreciated it I was way too sad to even think about volleyball

After more than a half of my money spent, I was walking to the UA dorms with my Bokuto plushie and an ache in my heart. I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, was I imagining everything? Was he not flirting with me? It felt so real, I wanted to cry, but that would only make things worse, I wasn’t looking at Bakugo for the first time since we’ve met. I couldn’t hold a conversation after that, I used the excuse of being too concentrated in winning the plushie, but now that we are walking side by side it feels weird not saying anything. Bakugo doesn’t seem to care, or even notice, he’s also very quiet, this feels way too awkward, I just want this night to be over and cry my heart out in my room. There is only a couple more blocks and this nightmare will end.

-Hey Y/N, wait- This is the first time I hear Bakugos voice since we started heading the dorms

I try to put my best “Everything is okay” face but I fail miserably when I see his face. I started to tear up and just hugged my plushie with my eyes fixed in the ground, I can’t see him in the face

-I’m sorry Katsuki, I wasn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation, I wasn’t thinking and…-

I was grabbed so suddenly I dropped Bokuto

Before I realized his lips were pressed against my own. I was way too shocked to respond to his kiss, to my very first kiss. He pulled back, and a sigh left his lips.

-‘Tch, don’t apologise, I didn’t wanna kiss you in front of a bunch of losers- He said looking to his side, clearly avoiding my confused gaze

I didn’t hesitate, I grabbed his face and kissed him, trying to let him know how much I waited for that kiss. He quickly responded to it, for someone as strong and tough as him he was being gentle and caring, if this ain’t heaven, I dare God to come down and tell me this isn’t what glory feels like.

We kept the kiss, it became more and more passionate, he got closer to deepen the kiss, I could feel his arms around my waist, and I could taste the melon soda he had at the arcade in his lips. I opened my mouth just a little and I felt his tongue slowly brushing against mine. This was the pinnacle of happiness.

We broke the kiss with blushed cheeks and racing heartbeats. This was too much; my head was spinning and I almost cried tears of joy.

-I thought you didn’t wanna kiss me- I said with a broke voice

-I didn’t- His reply felt like a bucket of cold water

-What? You’re kidding, you kissed me- Knowing Bakugo he just said that to mess with me

-Y/N I didn’t want to kiss you, but not because of whatever stupid thing your mind its thinking right now-

-Then why? You can’t just kiss me and then tell me you didn’t mean it, you don’t like me? –

-I like you, a lot, and that is why this is getting way harder that it’s supposed to be, I’ve been dying to kiss you for a long long time Y/N, you had no idea how much I have fantasized with having you between my arms and telling you just how much I like your dumb pretty face, I like you, and don’t you ever doubt it-

-Then, why? –

-I’m going to become the no. 1 hero, and that means I have to try even harder than the rest of the losers in this and the other hero curses, that’s why I will be having internships abroad this semester, with the bests heroes not only in Japan but in the world. I have to be the best in everything, having a girlfriend will only be distracting and possibly a complete disaster because I will be a terrible boyfriend being that busy with hero training, and asking you to wait for me is selfish, even for me. I didn’t wanna kiss you and then leave for half a year, maybe even more, but then you looked at me with those stupid kitty eyes and I just…-

-You’re going away? And you didn’t told me? – Now I definitely started to cry

-Oi! You’re the first one to know I haven’t even told my mom yet –

-I’ll wait –

-What? No I.. –

-I said I’ll wait for you, Bakugo Katsuki I’ve been in love with you since we first meet, I’ve been waiting two years for this, this is just half a year, then we will have all the time in the world-

Now it was Bakugos time to shed a tear

-You don’t have to; I don’t want you to be waiting for me while I…-

My kiss didn’t let him finish what he was about to say, he was tearing, I was tearing, but it was beautiful.

-Six months and then you’ll be mine Katsuki, get it? –

-I don’t think this is a good idea, you dumbass-

-Maybe it isn’t, but what are you going to do? Stop me? - I replied and then we kissed one last time

************************************************

Part 4.

I really liked how this turned out, I'm going to the the masterlist post soon so you can find all the chapters together. As always I'm starting to write and in my second language (just give me my certificate already) so any error let me know, and if you want to be tagged message me. LY

[goodlucktai]

Could I request some good bro Natori and Natsume stuff for prompts 1,2,3, or 5? Either separately or merged into one frankenfic?

PROMPTS LIST

1. “I apologise in advance for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.” +2. “I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.” +5. “This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.” “Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

x

When Shuuichi called the Fujiwara house to invite Natsume to the upcoming wrap party, he was braced for the type of dogged, exacting negotiations better suited a hostage situation. 

Instead, after a pleasant fifteen-minute conversation with Touko, he was painlessly gifted custody of his friend for the weekend. 

“Shigeru-san and I need to meet with one of his relatives about some of Takashi-kun’s missing belongings,” she says, a sliver of steel in her sunny voice that promises, in no uncertain terms, that these relatives will almost certainly have a fight on their hands. “I’d hate to have to bring Takashi-kun along, but I don’t like to leave him here alone, so this is quite the neat solution!”

Natsume is grim and resigned when they meet at the train station, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his ugly cat tucked into his arms. Shuuichi can’t help but beam at him, having come out of this arrangement fully on top. 

“Shopping!” he announces gleefully. “You’ll need something fancy for the party. And then we’ll get lunch-- my treat, of course. And if you don’t listen to me, Touko-san will be sad!” 

If looks could kill, Shuuichi would almost certainly have met his unfortunate end right then and there. 

xx

Natsume has been uncomfortable all evening, in a fixed position at Shuuichi’s elbow and nursing the same flute of champagne that was foisted upon him at the door. 

He’s in dark-washed jeans and a smart blazer, his hair tucked out of his face with a few strategic hair clips. He toes the line between youthful and stylish well, and his quiet personality comes across as shy instead of standoffish. The cast and crew are all delighted to finally meet the kid Shuuichi talked so much about, and Natsume is doing his best to hold up under all the attention.

So it had taken a bit of blackmail and bribery to get him here-- was that so unusual? 

Networking is a necessary evil, and usually Shuuichi is stuck at these functions until the early hours of the morning. But it’s only a couple of hours before Natsume starts to flag. He’s edging into nonverbal territory, only mustering eye contact for a few seconds at a time, and Shuuichi doesn’t waste time in steering him away from the press of the party and into an out-of-the-way office. 

“Who’s office is this?” Natsume asks quietly. When Shuuichi presses lightly on his shoulders, he sinks into a leather armchair without fuss. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m famous, I can do whatever I want,” Shuuichi says with a winning smile. 

Natsume is recovered enough by then to scowl at him, a knee-jerk reaction. 

“I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

After that exchange, Shuuichi feels alright about leaving Natsume alone with Hiiragi while he sweeps off to make their excuses, and say his goodbyes, and steal some food for the road. 

And now they’re bundled in coats and scarves, making their way back to the hotel. Natsume looks much livelier now that they’re outside, working on the second half of an egg sandwich that Shuuichi smuggled out for him. 

“I can’t believe you do that for a living,” the boy murmurs after a moment. “It’s exhausting.”

“You get used to it,” Shuuichi says. “And I’m good at talking.”

Being charming and personable on cue is one of his greatest skills. No closed door, or VIP entrance, or members-only sign has ever kept him out. 

When they get back to the hotel, an ugly cat is waiting for them outside. Natsume smiles to see it, his pace quickening, and offers the yokai the last bite of his sandwich. 

Madara takes it with a scoff. “This is all you brought me? I want barbecue!” 

“What kind of party do you think we were at?” Shuuichi mutters. 

“Maybe tomorrow, sensei,” Natsume says agreeably, lifting the cat into his arms. 

“Hmph. In that case, I guess I’ll pass the message along.” Settling into a comfortable loaf in the crook of the boy’s arms, the cat squints at them with shining, dark eyes. “Someone came for their name while you were gone.”

Shuuichi stiffens in alarm. They’re hours away from Hitoyoshi, where Natsume’s reputation proceeds him at every turn. To have been tracked this far, despite the wards... 

Natsume only looks mildly surprised. “Are they still here?”

“No, they’re waiting for you in the woods,” Madara says. “Human settlements make them nervous.”

Nodding as if this is all perfectly reasonable, Natsume glances at Shuuichi. Shuuichi, waiting for his cue, says, “Absolutely not.”

“Natori,” his friend says, with the same tone of a tired mother attempting to wrangle an unreasonable toddler.

“In what universe would I allow you to wander off into the forest in the middle of the night?” He opts to ignore the rich orange dusk above and around them, and the fact that the streetlights haven’t kicked on yet. Natsume’s eyebrows are inching toward his hairline, so he decides to play his trump card. “Your parents said I’m in charge.”

Hiiragi sighs deeply. It’s only after Shuuichi says it that he realizes how juvenile it sounded, but by then it’s too late. He has to double down. 

“Let’s just go inside, and we’ll discuss it over a proper meal,” he says with a smile. He waves Natsume toward the door, but Natsume doesn’t budge.

Shuuichi realizes he used up all his authority earlier, in forcing Natsume to the department stores and restaurants and the wrap party. The boy has played along thus far but he’s clearly reached his quota for the evening. He doesn’t even entertain the idea of listening to Shuuichi this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” Natsume says plainly. He turns back the way they came without another word. 

Shuuichi struggles with it for a moment, but he really doesn’t have any choice but to follow. It doesn’t help that the ugly cat is laughing at him, or that Hiiragi is judging him silently with every step.  

xx

Honestly, if Shuuichi were feeling marginally more generous, he would admit that there was some sort of cosmic justice at work here. He had forced Natsume out of his comfort zone all night, and now the tables have turned entirely. 

The trees tower around them as they pick their way up a faint foot trail, stretching up into a dark, endless canopy. The wind combs through branches and leaves in eerie, hushed whispers. They only have the shiki’s night-eyes and the flashlight on Shuuichi’s phone to see by. 

“This is my life now,” Shuuichi complains, out of breath. “I climbed this hill and now I’m going to die on it.”

“Shut up,” Natsume replies mildly. “We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

He certainly seems comfortable here, for all that he’s never been in these particular woods before. With his green eyes and silvery hair and thousand-yard stare, Natsume might as well be a mountain spirit himself sometimes. 

The thought cinches painfully in Shuuichi’s stomach, and he speeds up a bit until they’re walking alongside one another. 

“How do you know you can trust this spirit?” he asks.

“I don’t,” Natsume says, sounding surprised by the question. “How do you know you can trust any of those humans you work with?”

“Because they’re human.”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Shuuichi can see his own incomprehension reflected in Natsume’s expression. There’s a sudden chasm open between them, a lack of understanding that goes both ways.

Natsume looks away first. He doesn’t quite hang his head, but he isn’t standing as tall as he was before. Shuuichi remembers, belatedly, just how many humans have hurt Natsume up to this point. He realizes that what he just said was very stupid. And on top of being grossly inconsiderate, he managed to alienate his friend at the same time.

This is what he gets for being so smug all day. 

He puts a hand on Natsume’s shoulder, throwing a line across the chasm and hoping it will hold. He squeezes, waiting until Natsume has mustered the courage for eye contact once more, and only when he has the boy’s full attention does he say gravely, “I have a lot to learn from you. I’m only sorry I won’t have the chance. And I apologize for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.”

Natsume splutters, and then laughs, and those sad, clinging shadows peel away from him as easily as a broken spiderweb. “You’re not going to get murdered!” 

"Hm,” Shuuichi says, deeply unconvinced (and deeply relieved to hear his friend laughing).

“Honestly, if you’re this worried, why not just wait at the hotel?” Natsume asks. He’s animated again, picking his way ahead confidently. Shuuichi is happy to follow, leaving that painful, aborted conversation behind them for another day. 

“Because Touko told me to look after you this weekend,” Shuuichi says mulishly. He’s still clinging to the thin veneer of being in charge, for all the good it’s doing him. “How could I look her in the eye if I let you go charging off into danger?”

“Easily,” Natsume mutters. “Charmingly. And with a bouquet of roses, probably. You said it yourself, you’re good at talking.”

Now it’s Shuuichi’s turn to laugh. He thinks of his conversation with Touko earlier that week-- he thinks of how, even now, she and Shigeru are off getting into a fight with their family for their foster son’s sake, with Natsume none the wiser. 

“You’ve sorely underestimated how protective she is of you,” Shuuichi says ruefully. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get to see it firsthand when I take you home, since I’ve made an absolute mess of this weekend so far.” 

Natsume tips his head curiously, but whatever he might have said is interrupted as they come around a bend that opens up to a glade.

There’s lantern light up ahead. The glow is unnatural, slightly off-color, and the lights sway even though there isn’t a steady wind. Hiiragi goes tense and alert at Shuuichi’s shoulder, and Shuuichi himself feels a cold thrill of anticipation, his fight-or-flight reflexes primed. But Natsume lets out a little huff of relief, and Madara says, “Finally!” as a rabbit spirit steps onto the path to greet them. 

It’s about as tall as Shuuichi’s waist and dressed in a neat yellow yukata. It greets them politely, and apologizes for making them go out of their way, and invites them into the glade. Madara jumps out of Natsume’s arms to lead the way, and Hiiragi follows distrustfully, but Natsume lingers for a moment. 

“What if Touko hadn’t said anything?” he asks, in the tone of someone testing a theory. 

For all of about three seconds, Shuuichi considers lying to preserve his dignity, but he gives it up for a lost cause. He sighs, and musses his hair up even more, and admits, “I’d still be here.”

Natsume might as well be a mountain spirit himself sometimes. But then there are times like these, when his face lights up like a summer sky, and he smiles as though he’s never been hurt, and Shuuichi has never met anyone more human than him.

[oloreaa]

Vencuyanir Ch. 9 - The Medcenter

Summary: Their first conversation about what happened. A deal. Some first time parenting together thrown into the mix

Words: 8.0k  i KNOW

Warnings: descriptions/treatment of wounds, allusion/inquiry about sexual assault, (past) child abuse, sick and distressed child, hospitals (please let me know if I missed something)

Notes: Hi, hello my friends!! I am overwhelmed by all of the feedback and responses I´ve received, and I want to thank you SO MUCH for it. You are all amazing and I am SO grateful to you. HUGE thanks at @adikaofmandalore​ for all of the logic suggestions and @over300books​ for going over the chapter with me and being endlessly patient. 

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……………

They were in hyperspace, moving towards some planet that the Mandalorian was steering the Razor Crest to. Elana stood in front of the mirror, examining the bruises on her face and arms, covering her skin, and tried to make sense of everything.

Facts first.

She and Bean were captured by the Mandalorian on Arvala-7. Bean was the actual bounty, for which he got a camtono of beskar. He took the payment and got himself a whole new armour made with that beskar. The Mandalorian risked his life to go back and get them away from the Imperials he had originally handed them to.

Speculations second.

The Mandalorian seemed to have taken a liking to them, in some way or another. He also seemed to have regretted giving them away, going to great lengths to rectify that action. He had risked everything in his job in order to rescue them, and now all three of them were probably wanted by the Guild.

Coming to a conclusion.

The Mandalorian, Bean and Elana were stuck together for an indeterminate amount of time, and even though she wanted nothing more than to never see that blasted beskar helmet again, she had to be realistic. If not for her own life, then for Bean's.

Elana knew that she was not suitable to protect Bean. She could not fight, she had nowhere to go, and no one who could help her. The only thing she would be able to do was to pick up jobs and earn enough credits to keep them afloat. But that was something that she could only consider to do for the rest of her life if there was not the issue with Bean being wanted by remnants of the Empire.

Thus, their best chance was, once again, staying with the Mandalorian.

Elana sighed deeply, staring at herself in the mirror. The bruise on her cheek where the stormtrooper had hit her was deep purple, the skin bloody. There were small scrapes all across her face, hopefully they would heal over the next few days. Her skin looked pale, the shadows underneath her eyes almost as dark as the bruises on her face. Gently using the water in the sink to wash away the grime on her face, Elana rubbed the dried and crusty flakes of blood out of her hair line, running her hands carefully through the tangles in her dark strands when she was finished. When she was satisfied with how her wounds were relatively clean, she unscrewed the bacta jar and smeared the cool substance onto her face and her wrists, careful with the sensitive skin. After she was finished, she stepped out of the fresher and saw the Mandalorian sitting on a crate, methodically cleaning one of his blasters. He looked up, and she squared her jaw.

"I think we need to talk," she said, shoulders tense.

The Mandalorian nodded.

"I don't think that I need to tell you what I think of your actions," Elana started off, picking her words carefully, "And you can obviously guess at what happened in that warehouse."

He met her gaze through that impassive beskar helmet, and she felt herself becoming furious.

"Why?" Elana did not care that she had asked this already. She wanted to hear it when he was not trying to constantly brush her off. The Mandalorian was quiet for a long time. "Is this because you want-- my offer?" Her mouth tasted like ash, jaw clenching at the thought of him cashing in the favour of yesterday.

His head whipped up. "No," he said quickly, voice hoarse, "Never that." He sounded so earnest that a part inside her relaxed, but she still could not help but stay wary, arms crossed in front of her chest defensively. "The job had felt off from the beginning," the Mandalorian sighed, a slight shift in his posture the only indicator for Elana that he was uncomfortable. "And when I saw that the bounty was the baby--"

Elana interrupted him, "You did not seem to mind when you dragged us away."

He was quiet again.

"I don't want a full on apology, Mandalorian, though Maker knows we deserve it," she spat, "I want to know if you will give us away again."

"Not to them," he said, voice low.

Elana scoffed slightly. "What a relief."

"I went back because it was wrong. The job, the payment, the bounty were all wrong. I had to go back."

Stepping a bit closer to him, staring down into where his eyes should be, she started to speak, fury burning in her. "You owe me, Mandalorian," she said quietly.

"If you want to be specific, it was me who saved both of you," he pointed out weakly, voice tense.

"Well, think again, tin can, whose fault was it that we needed to be saved?" Elana snarled, "It would have been something entirely different if you would have only turned me in."

His helmet tilted up.

"If it was only me, an adult, it would have been something entirely different," she repeated, "But the actual bounty was Bean. A baby."

The Mandalorian dropped his head down, and she hoped with all her heart that it was shame that crushed on him. She hoped that it would haunt him forever.

"So, I want a deal for you to make up to this." Elana hesitated at that, and turned the points, the logical points over in her head, chewing on her lip. "Isn't there a saying about you bounty hunters? You make the best deal for yourself and survive? Take what you can and make the best out of it?"

The Mandalorian nodded, voice grave, "Yes."

"I'm aware that I am not a fighter," Elana started off, "I am simply a hired caretaker, nothing more. But the only thing I can say about me, that I'm good at? I am a damn good caretaker for that baby." She pointed at the sleeping Bean. "Do you know how abused and neglected that child was when I arrived on Arvala-7? How quick he latched onto me because I would hug him? I will not let him fall into the hands of the Empire because that, that exact thing will happen again."

Elana breathed hard, tears starting to gather in her eyes, but she fought furiously against them. "Bean deserves a childhood, all right? He deserves to have his parents back, deserves to grow up without abuse, deserves to be on his home planet, wherever that is! But I cannot give it back to him. So the only thing I can give him is my love, and I will die before letting Bean become that scared child again. He has already seen too much violence in his life," Elana's voice was becoming thick now, the words coming out raw and jagged, pushed out between shuddering breaths as she tried her best to not simply fall apart in front of the Mandalorian.

Choking off a sob, she pressed a palm onto her face, turning away slightly from the bounty hunter who was watching her silently. "I'm sorry, I--" Elana automatically started to apologise for her outburst, before cutting herself off, squaring her shoulders. She did not owe him anything, she thought viciously, eyes burning, and she gritted her jaw, taking a deep breath to stabilise herself.

"Ever since we left the encampment, we've been dragged around, barked orders at, and I am tired of feeling helpless and looked down upon. So, I want a deal," Elana said, going back to her original point, "I want you to protect us until that Empire business is taken care of." Turning sharply to face him, she cut off what she assumed was protest, "You're a good fighter. You have a ship, you have weapons. And you owe us, both of us," Elana enunciated, "Get us onto some planet, help us find a way to get rid of the bounty on Bean, and then you can kark off again to wherever it is that you came from."

Staring straight at his visor, she could not help her tiny sneer as she gestured at his armour. "I think you've received enough payment to make us worth your while." He said nothing, only clenched his hands into fists.

"Make the best deal, right?" Elana said, knowing that she was looking right into his eyes, "Well, Mandalorian. I'm making the best out of my situation. Looks like my best deal is you."

The Mandalorian exhaled, his modulator crackling. Then, he replied, voice impossibly low: "Deal."

They stared at each other, neither of them willing to look away first, fists clenched at their sides, and only the sound of Bean stirring made them break eye contact.

The little baby sat up, big ears backlit by the light in the cubicle as he frowned at them. With horror, Elana watched as his face scrunched up, and he started to cry, ears almost grazing the floor for how low they hung. Hurrying over to him, leaning into the cubicle and putting him in her arms, Elana shushed him gently, swaying from side to side. All she felt from him was fear, sharp and sour, and images started to flicker across the bond. Of the doctor, of Elana being dragged away, of a huge needle poking into his side, him thrashing around until it got dark.

"Shavit," she whispered, before straightening and frantically pushing up the little one's robe, "Shavit!"

There was an injection point right above his elbow, the flesh swollen, a slightly darker shade than his surrounding skin, the band-aid on it loose from him squirming around.

"Get bacta," Elana heard herself say, voice shaking, "get bacta, now."

She dimly realized how the Mandalorian sprung into action, but she was occupied with checking Bean for other injuries, aware of the way he still sniffled and curled into himself. Tracing her fingers over him gently, Elana did her best to keep thinking happy thoughts at Bean, trying to calm him some.

"Mwa," Bean cooed, looking up tearfully, button nose twitching, and he clutched at her arms. She could feel that it was not something that actually hurt him. It was not an open wound, but it still stung a bit, which made him panic. Elana sighed in relief when it became clear that he was more scared that it would happen again than that he actually felt pain.

"Oh, honey," she murmured at him, "you're such a brave little boy, aren't you?"

The bacta jar appeared in her peripheral sight, and she grabbed at it, unscrewing it as fast as she could. Feeling the Mandalorian hover behind her, she ignored him, and started to carefully peel away the other band-aid. "Get new ones, please," she said on autopilot, fingers already covered in bacta, spreading it out on the green skin of the baby, carefully rubbing it in. Bean had not stopped sniffing, but he was watching her with big eyes now, quieter than before.

He was still scared.

"We're away from that place, okay, honey?" Elana started to say, hoping that her voice would soothe him some, "That nasty doctor can't poke you again, all right?" Huffing out a watery chuckle as he grabbed her arm and pressed his face into it, Elana traced his ears gently with her fingers.

Bandages appeared, and she nodded in thanks without taking her eyes off Bean. Quickly wrapping the wound up, she pressed a peck against the bandaged spot, and smiled at Bean, unable to hide how brittle it was. "You're all fixed up now, sweetpea," Elana said, and pulled his robes down again, scooping him up into her arms, "You don't have to be scared, okay?"

Careful of his arm, she positioned him so Bean could lay his head on her shoulder, a hand on his back, backing away from the Mandalorian who was still hovering behind them. "Thank you," she told the bounty hunter, her cheek pressed into the top of Bean's wrinkled head. Bean started to sniffle and whimper again, and shook, fear still in his limbs and lingering in his head.

"You're all right, honey," Elana told him, whispering it into his large ears, pressing kisses wherever she could reach, while never stopping swaying comfortingly.

Turning to look at the Mandalorian, she sighed deeply.

"I still have things I've got to say," Elana said quietly, mindful of Bean, "There are things that still need to be addressed."

He nodded. "That's understandable," he said, his voice rough.

Elana continued: "If we are going to be travelling together until we're on a safe planet, I need boundaries. There will be some general rules we need to establish otherwise this won't work."

"Of course," he agreed, voice so soft she had difficulties picking it up through the crackle of the modulator.

"I'm not looking for a fight, and I do not want to associate with you longer than I have to, and I'm pretty sure that the feeling is mutual," Elana said quietly, looking at the Mandalorian. "I'm only doing this for him," she added, bopping Bean gently for emphasis, and he nodded.

"Can I help?" The Mandalorian asked, surprising her. She blinked in bewilderment. "Uh, if you could set up the cot…?"

If there was a record for how quick a Mandalorian got the cot propped up for them, then he probably just broke it. As soon as he was finished, he pulled himself up in the cockpit with a "Be right back".

When Elana settled down on the cot, the Mandalorian reappeared, dropped down from above and landed quietly. There were dark blankets tucked underneath his arm, and he handed them to her.

"For Bean," he said, and she took them, biting her lips in uncertainty and looked away.

"If there is something like a crate or anything we can use as a makeshift pram? Do you have anything like that?"

"Wait," was all he said, before he moved around her, grabbed the smallest crate in the hull, and took out the tools that were in there before. Putting those into another crate, he presented it to her.

She took it, put it on the floor, and started to methodically pad it with the blanket. Using the leftover flaps to tuck Bean in, she set the crate right next to the cot, and turned to the Mandalorian.

"Would it be all right if we could get to a market in the next few days?" Elana asked before hesitating, "There are things that Bean would need, and I'm not sure if the Crest has all of them."

The Mandalorian nodded. "Sure," he said.

Bean was starting to slip into sleep now, but some sniffles still escaped him, and it was with a heavy heart that Elana traced his little face with a careful finger, using the bond to wrap him in a bundle of warmth, able to draw actual comfort out of her knowledge that they were safe now. They were actually safe for the moment. The bounty hunter hovered around in her peripheral vision, and Elana turned around, facing him, Bean's eyes now closed and his breaths even. The two of them stared at each other for a moment.

Elana hesitated, before adding what was lingering in her mind, resting on the tip of her tongue. "Thank you," she whispered, blinking fast as she felt herself tearing up again, "Thank you for coming back for us."

His head whipped up, body language showing his incredulity. It was quiet between them, and even though Elana did not regret her words, for he actually deserved the thanks, since he had risked everything by rescuing them, and it could not be taken back now. The words hung in the air, fragile like a silk thread, exposing more of Elana than she would have liked.

"... You're welcome," the Mandalorian finally said, and she was astonished at how wrecked he sounded. Maybe he truly regretted it. Maybe it was eating him up inside. A part of her wished for it. Another part was too tired to care.

"I think I'll get some sleep now," she mumbled, leaning against the edge of the cot, "That stuff from before... I don't know what it was."

"I can take you to a medcenter if you want to," the Mandalorian offered quietly, "Then you can also get a checkup for Bean."

Elana nodded, resisting the urge to sigh heavily. "That would be brilliant," she heard herself say, tilting her face so she could look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," he then said, before he dropped to one knee, head lowered while Elana stared at him in astonishment, eyes wide, "For everything. For how I treated you." The voice of the Mandalorian was so soft that she had difficulty picking out the words, but they struck something in her that she had no time to analyse while he was in front of her.

"I don't deserve forgiveness," he continued, words coming out haltingly, the edges jagged, "What I did on Arvala-7-- on Nevarro-- there are no excuses. But I'm sorry." His head was still lowered, the sound crackled through the modulator, and she could not decipher if it was his voice or his vocal filter that made it crack like that, "I'm sorry."

Elana felt her bottom lip wobble, and with horror she realised that her eyes were stinging with tears. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath, and clenched her fists, feeling her nails dig into her palms. "We can talk about this tomorrow," she managed, voice thick, "I can't-- I can't think right now."

"All right," he whispered, "Take your time."

Elana swallowed and looked away, heart clenching and she felt as if she could not breathe properly.

The Mandalorian said nothing, just nodded once, before standing up stiffly. As he lingered for a moment, she could hear the leather gloves creak, him flexing his fingers, but then he left without a word, pulling himself up into the cockpit.

Elana stared behind him, feeling uncomfortably, inexplicably conflicted. She sat down on the cot, the baby starting to snore quietly, and just closed her eyes, resting them for a bit. Whatever it was that the Imperials had given her was still in her system, but other than sleepiness and limbs that were starting to become impossibly heavy, nothing seemed to be out of place. She could only hope that it would be the same with Bean, that whatever they had injected him with would not make him sick afterwards. It was still too early to see if it had any lasting effects on the baby. Elana found the backpack with her clothes where she had put it last, luckily having forgotten to take it when they arrived on Nevarro. After tugging out a comparatively clean set of loose clothes and putting it on, she laid down on the cot and pulled the blanket over herself. It was not long until she fell asleep, but the apology of the Mandalorian rattled in her brain for as long as she was conscious.

~

Something was making noises next to her, waking her up. Elana blinked groggily, turning her head towards the noise. It was Bean, she realised, standing in the crate in front of her, arms outstretched towards her.

"Honey?" Elana whispered, and the baby scuttled closer. Bean gave a low whine, and she frowned, sleepy. Reaching out with an arm, she pulled him onto her cot, letting him crawl into her side. He snuggled into her shirt, and whined again, sounding pitiful. "Honey," she murmured, "what's wrong?"

When Bean climbed up on her chest, and pressed his face into her neck, she was instantly wide awake.

He was burning up.

"Bean?" Elana asked, heart suddenly pounding in her chest, "Oh no."

Carefully sitting up, a hand on his back to support him, she inspected the little child. Elana felt her heart drop as she looked at his glassy eyes and droopy ears, the usual green colour of his face looking faded. The tips of his ears, where the skin was usually pale pink, was a slight yellow instead. Across the bond she could feel him having a headache and a hurting tummy.

"Baby, sweetpea," she whispered, tilting him against her chest, slightly bouncing him, hand splayed across his back. Pressing his nose into her collarbone, he whined again, and Elana looked up, up to the ladder leading to the cockpit.

Should she?

If Bean's temperature rose too high, it could be dangerous for him, and with how bad he looked and felt over the bond, it would not be long until he needed immediate medical attention. Medical attention she could not give him.

Searching her feelings, knowing that she did not have any supplies, she felt her heart starting to race. Should she ask the Mandalorian? Listening to the child's whimpers, her decision was quickly made. Not even bothering to make herself more presentable, she clutched Bean close to her and climbed up the ladder with one hand. Walking around the opening, barely visible in the dim orange emergency light, towards the captain's quarters, she stood in front of the closed door. Elana hesitated again, staring at the grey durasteel.

Even though there was not any reason now to fear him, it was basically hard wired into her at this point. Rationally she knew that he would not go through all the trouble to rescue them and then kill them now, but emotionally she was still terrified of the bounty hunter, no matter if she talked back sometimes or put on a brave face.

But when she felt Bean starting to cry into her, little body trembling, she knocked resolutely at the surface. It was quiet at first, so she knocked again. Recalling how he had slammed her into the ground when she had tried to lift his helmet on Arvala-7, she figured that she should not barge into his quarters where he was likely sleeping without it.

"What?" The Mandalorian's voice sounded from inside, slurred from sleep.

She knocked again, more urgently, biting her lip as she shifted the baby in her arms. "Mandalorian?" Elana asked, face close to the door as she tried to listen to what was happening inside the room.

There was a low groan and some mutterings before steps sounded towards the door. When it opened with a hiss, Elana flinched back when the helmet basically appeared inches away from her face, the Mandalorian hunched down to stare at her smaller frame.

Even without the full beskar armour strapped to him, he had the same commanding presence, and his gloves and boots were clearly tugged on while he was half asleep, tiny bits of skin poking out here and there. "What is it?" he asked, stance intimidating but his voice soft.

"I need your help," Elana said, staring imploringly at the visor, "Bean is burning up."

It was as if a switch was turned, and his scrutiny shifted to the small child whose face was buried in her shoulder, and he gave off a pained whine just in that second. The Mandalorian's posture loosened some, even if the tension was still thick enough to cut with a knife.

"What's wrong with him?" The Mandalorian inquired, still sounding a bit rough from sleep.

"He has a fever, and he's in pain. I think whatever the Imperials have given him is making him sick," she said, shifting Bean up on her body again as he wriggled, unsatisfied with that position. Looking down at him in worry, she noted that his eyes were brimming with tears, and his face started to scrunch up, a pathetic wail tearing out of his little lungs.

"Do you have a medpack? A fever shot?" Elana asked the Mandalorian who was leaning in the door, watching them, clearly tense and uncomfortable.

He was quiet, the only sound between them Bean's sobs, before he sighed. "Let me check," the bounty hunter said, pushing past her, and starting to climb down into the hull of the ship. Elana stayed where she was, swaying on the spot, whispering and humming into Bean's petal soft ears. She gently rubbed his back as he cried, becoming louder by the second. "Oh, honey," she whispered, pressing a kiss on top of his forehead, biting her lip anxiously.

He sobbed harder, pressing his face into her shoulder while she did her best to stroke him across the back, hoping that the gesture would comfort him some. After a few unbearable minutes, the Mandalorian appeared again, pulling himself up to their level.

"I only have a med pack for open wounds," he said, voice tense.

Elana closed her eyes, and exhaled in dismay. "Shavit," she muttered, a frown on her face.

Studying her, the Mandalorian tilted his head, and sighed deeply. "Hold onto him," came from him, and he moved into the cockpit, the door opening with a hiss. She trailed after him, confused, feeling the wet patch in her shirt where Bean's face was buried growing. The pain that was projected over the bond did nothing but to make her more anxious.

The Mandalorian sat down in the pilot's seat and started pushing buttons, reaching up to flick some switches. Continuing rocking Bean, she sat down in the left seat, holding on as they dropped out of hyperspace, the sudden motion making Bean cry out. The Mandalorian did not waste a moment, looking at the navigation system, and punched in some coordinates.

"I'm taking you to a medcenter," he said, voice low, skillfully swerving the ship around to another direction, and entering hyperspace once again.

At the shift in the G-force Bean whimpered, and Elana held him close, cradling the back of his head as she gently positioned it onto her shoulder. As soon as the ship was stable, the Mandalorian stood up and disappeared again, dropping down into the hull with a loud bang. Looking after him, the twist of her body made Bean unhappy, so she quickly turned back, humming gently at him. He was exhausted but still kept crying, feeling too uncomfortable to rest.

Sleep, she told him over the bond, but he whined in protest, the unnatural warmth making him feel dizzy. Sleep, Elana repeated again, more firmly, and to her surprise, he actually fell asleep. When the Mandalorian climbed up again, he handed her an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth, and she accepted thankfully, gently pressing it against the burning forehead of the little child.

Both of them looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms, heartbreakingly pale.

"We'll be at a medcenter soon," the Mandalorian said quietly, and she looked up, right into his visor, and clenched her jaw.

"Okay," she whispered, giving him a serious nod. Only when he stepped away and sat down into the pilot's seat she realized how close he had been, and her hold on Bean tightened.

"Drop out of hyperspace in fifteen minutes," he announced after a while of staring at the navicomputer, pressing some buttons, "Put on some warmer clothes."

With those words, he stood up, and made his way into the captain's quarters, presumably to strap his armour on. It was terrifying how he still looked as broad and tall without the armour as with it. Getting down into the hull carefully, and placing Bean into the pram for the time being, she quickly braided her hair, keeping it out of the way, putting on actual clothes. As she tied the laces on her boots, Bean started to cry again, not yet waking up but right before it. Scooping him up, she climbed into the cockpit and settled into the left seat again, rocking Bean while she hummed a low tune.

The Mandalorian appeared after a while, his new shiny beskar armour glinting in the light, and he carefully approached them, checking on Bean from where he was resting his head on her shoulder. It was quiet for a beat. "He looks a little pale," the Mandalorian pointed out, sounding tense, "Has he showed other worse symptoms yet?"

"No," she whispered, eyes on the worrying yellow-looking baby, "I hope it stays that way."

Dropping out of hyperspace, a station appeared in front of them, and she let out a sigh of relief, noticing that there was not too much traffic. The less people there are, the less likely that there are other bounty hunters. Even though it had not even been a few hours since Nevarro, she did not think that it was paranoid to already look for potential hunters after Bean, and she was sure that the Mandalorian would agree if she asked him.

He maneuvered the ship into the right lanes; it did not take long until the Razor Crest was landed safely.

"Come on," the Mandalorian said, powered the ship off, and turned towards her. Moving quickly, he went past her, and was already halfway down the ladder when she stood up. Reaching his arms up at her, he motioned for Elana to reach Bean to him. She raised a brow at the Mandalorian.

"Give him to me," he said, and motioned again. Hesitantly, she extracted Bean from her shirt, and reached him down, the Mandalorian gently wrapping his hands around the baby, holding him securely. As she descended the ladder, he held Bean in his arms, and the little one whined, pressing his face against the beskar plate.

An idea came to her. "Use your armour to cool him down some," she told him, quickly grabbing a satchel, stuffed a blanket and the water bottle into it, "Do you have credits with you?"

"Yes," he answered, looking a bit bewildered with the baby in his arms, a cheek smushed against his chestplate. Elana nodded determinedly, and pressed the button to lower the side ramp. "Let's go," she said.

They quickly left the ship, and went into an open foyer, the cold light of the sterile place uninviting. Making a straight line to the receptionist's desk, she stopped in front of it. A Cerean male held up a finger at her, gesturing for her to wait with a small perfunctory smile, and finished up his call. "Good day, welcome to Naamel medcenter, how can I help you?" His tone was bored, and he did not even look up.

"We have a sick child," Elana said, "He has had a fever for a few hours now."

"A nurse will come to you in a moment, please go to the waiting room down the hallway, and register yourself."

The Mandalorian stepped closer, and stared down at the receptionist. "No identification," he said. The Cerean looked up, and then did a double take, eyes widening at the sight of the warrior.

"Of course, sir," he was quick to stammer, his eyes darting between the Mandalorian, Bean and her, and he pressed a button on his desk connected to a visible comlink.

"We have a high priority case, please get to it as soon as possible," he spoke into it, before giving them a nervous smile and pointed towards the room they were supposed to wait in. The Mandalorian stalked past the desk, Bean in his arms, and Elana was quick to follow after she shot a polite parting nod at the receptionist.

"That was the fastest response I've ever seen at a medcenter," Elana told him as she caught up to him, a slightly wry smile on her face.

The Mandalorian huffed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Mwa," Bean said, stretching out a hand towards her as they entered the empty waiting room. Elana stepped close to the Mandalorian, both of them working together in transferring the baby from his arms into hers. In no time at all Bean was resting his head on her shoulder again, a big frown on his face, eyes teary, "Eh?"

"It won't take long now, okay?" Elana reassured him, patting him on his back, "A few minutes at most, sweetpea."

The Mandalorian was tense, and every time someone walked past the room his hand twitched towards his weapon holster.

"Keep your hand off your blaster, for Maker's sake," Elana hissed at him through clenched teeth, his behaviour setting her off, pacing around the sterile room. The only reprieve for the cold white paint was a potted plant in one corner and a framed painting of an underwater garden on the wall.

"No," the Mandalorian told her, fingers curling around the weapon. Elana took a deep breath in annoyance and glared at him.

"This is a medcenter, so: Keep your hands off."

"He's still being hunted," he said, looking at her.

"Bean getting treated is more important now, and I don't think the staff would treat him if you insist on being trigger happy," Elana said, voice dry. As if to help her point, Bean sobbed loudly, and she started rocking him gently again, pressing kisses against his forehead, not liking how yellow he looked at all. "Honey, just a bit, okay? You're such a strong baby," she told him, swaying from side to side, "We're gonna get you fixed up in no time at all."

"Mwa," he said, burying his button nose into her soaked shirt.

A Mirilian nurse came in, a med droid on her heels. The Mandalorian tensed instantly. "No droids," he told the nurse without preamble, and Elana's head whipped around to him. Was he being serious? Not only was that rude, but they could not afford being difficult. The nurse stared at him, clearly tired from a long day and dealing with difficult patients.

"Look, sir," she said, sighing heavily and kneading between her eyes, "We are understaffed as hell, and if you want a check in, you'll have to accept the droid."

Elana stepped closer to him, face set in a frown.

"We are not leaving until Bean gets treated," she hissed at the Mandalorian, before pushing past him and talking to the nurse herself, effectively ignoring him.

"Excuse him, miss," Elana said, "We need a check up, and something to lower his fever, I'm worried at how fast he got this bad."

The urgent words were underlined by Bean whining and starting to wail again, his sobs heartbreaking.

The Mirilian raised a brow at the Mandalorian, disapproval in her eyes. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but you're in no position to be picky about the staff. If your child looks as bad as this, I would suggest listening to your wife and letting a droid handle this."

"She's not my wi--" The Mandalorian started to say, while at the same time Elana injected: "He's not my husba--"

The nurse raised a brow, and held up a hand. "That's unimportant. You have a sick child, so let Bee-Two take a look at the baby."

Elana gave the Mandalorian a nasty look. "Yeah," she drawled, voice venomous, "Let the droid look at him now."

He sighed heavily. Bean was still crying.

"Ma'am, please go down that hallway, Bee-Two will accompany you to room A4," the nurse directed and turned around, hurrying to another patient.

Elana smiled at the med droid. "Thank you very much," she said, ignoring the annoyed huff of the Mandalorian.

"Please follow me," Bee-Two said, and started to walk towards the room the nurse had assigned them to.

"What is wrong with you?" Elana asked the Mandalorian, brows furrowed and daggers in her eyes.

"I don't like droids," was his short answer.

Elana scoffed. "Yeah, kriff. I can see that."

"Cut it out," he snapped at her, voice low, as tense as a springboard.

"You cut it out," she snarled, her last bit of patience snapping, "Stars, get yourself together."

The med droid led them into a small, brightly lit room, and gestured to the examination desk in the middle. "Please put the baby on this. I will perform a scan," it instructed, and Elana quickly did as it said. Bean whined as she set him down, claws outstretched to her, bottom lip wobbling. "Mwa," he called out with a sniffle, "Mwa."

Reaching over the bond, she wrapped him in a warm bundle of love, hoping that it would calm him down some. Letting him hold onto one finger, she looked up at the med droid. "Please step back. You can let him hold onto your hand," the droid said, and took out a big complicated looking scanner.

Something clicked ominously behind her, and when she turned her head, Elana saw the Mandalorian, blaster in hand.

"Stop that," she told him, this close to ringing his bell so hard he would have a concussion.

Bee-Two scanned Bean with a blue light, and then switched to a red light. "He has increased temperature that is above the normal range of his body," the droid announced, "Can you tell me what species this child is so I can make a better prediction of his recovery? Or is he a hybrid?"

Elana shook her head. "I don't know what he is," she answered, biting her lip.

"Very well. Going by the symptoms and readings of other humanoid species, then." With a whirr, it ran a diagnostic.

"Quite an amount of blood had been extracted from him, but it's nothing to be worried about. He will be fine in a few days with some rest. But there are substances I cannot identify accurately in his bloodstream," the droid said, and it was as if an icy hand wrapped around her heart. She stared at the droid, feeling her stomach drop.

"Are they dangerous, though?" Elana got out, sounding choked.

"From what I can tell, no. They do not bind to cells or are actively destroying them."

"Could you run a deeper scan?"

The droid whirred again, cocking its head in an uncanny way, before nodding once. "Very well," it said, "This might take a few minutes." Rolling towards a large, white device, it started to press buttons and prepare it while Elana and the Mandalorian watched anxiously. Bean whimpered, claws digging into her shirt, ears hanging low. She gently smoothed over them, hoping that soft touches were calming for him.

As soon as a green light started to blink, the droid turned around, and held its hand out towards Bean. "May I?"

Ignoring the Mandalorian behind her who audibly tensed, she placed the child into the droid's arms, and even though it hurt her heart to see the little child stretching his little arms to her, whining loudly, Elana knew that it was necessary.

The droid rolled over to the device, beeping in a soothing manner, and placed him onto the scanner. Glancing over her shoulder to the Mandalorian, her lips pursed as she saw that his hand was still hovering over the blaster. Giving him a look and a sign to put it down, Elana turned around again, and crossed her arms while waiting for the results of the scan.

"Why are you so tense?" Elana asked the Mandalorian in a low voice, "Because of the med droid?"

He said nothing, but tilted his helmet slightly.

"Are you serious?" Looking at him, not trying to judge, but understand, she furrowed her brows. "Why?"

He stepped closer, and it sounded as if he spoke through gritted teeth when he said: "Droids are unpredictable."

"Droids are helpful," Elana pointed out as Bee-Two beeped happily, probably having some toddler-appropriate programming installed in its software, and finished the scan.

"The substances are non toxic and should not cause any more damage than the fever," Bee-Two explained, "Once the fever is down, he will be completely healthy again."

"Thank the Stars," Elana exhaled, feeling like a weight had dropped from her heart.

"I can administer a fever shot so he will be able to sleep, he is not in a critical stage but with small children it can change rapidly."

"Do it, please." Chewing her lip, Elana watched as the droid left the room, presumably going to collect the shot.

Moving towards the table where Bean was lying on his back, Elana reached out a finger for him to grasp, and smiled at the little one. Mumbling encouraging praises and promises at him, the toddler was calmer than before, looking at her with big, dark eyes, the depth in them stunning.

Bee-Two rolled back, holding a tiny syringe, and it administered the shot to Bean quickly, the baby whimpering at the prick. "You can pick him up now. The procedure is complete," the med droid said, and she flashed it a thankful smile as she scooped Bean up.

He immediately clawed himself into her shirt, snuggling into her and burying his face in her shoulder. A quiet "Mwa" came from him as his fingers tightened to a point where it was almost painful.

"Shh, honey," Elana whispered and pressed a kiss on his left ear, "You can sleep now."

"Can you check on her as well?" Her head whipped around when she heard the Mandalorian voicing his request through gritted teeth.

The droid beeped once, before strolling over to her.

"Hand the child to your partner, please, I will give you a check-up," it said, and after a quick look at the bounty hunter, she placed the sleepy Bean into his arms. He instantly curled against the silver chestplate, ears turned to the back. She could feel the way Bean's mind slowly got fuzzy as the shot started to work, the fever lowering. The Mandalorian gave her a nod.

"Take your time," he said, somewhat awkwardly, "I'll wait outside."

Elana did not want to leave him completely alone with Bean, but she figured that it would probably be fine. If he bolted, Bean would bite him for her, she reasoned with herself, and since there was nothing to be done about it, she gave him an accepting nod.

The Mandalorian moved outside through the door that hissed open, and she could hear how Bean sleepily babbled at him.

Elana turned and faced the droid, before sitting onto the examination desk, her legs dangling on from the height. Bee-Two started to look over her, and its eyes focused on her cheek first, and then her wrists.

"Have you been recently freed?" It asked, and to be honest, she could not even blame it for the question. Elana was very aware how she must look like an escaped slave, especially in the Outer Rim.

"Something like that," Elana said, looking away.

"Do you have an implant?"

"Only standard ones, no trackers," she admitted.

"Have you been injured?" Bee-Two asked, its voice kind, "Are you in need of any specific testing, such as pregnancy tests?"

"No, none of that sort," Elana said, feeling a lump in her throat at the thought, slightly nauseous. Thank the Stars that the Mandalorian had never made any kind of advances on her, and that nothing had happened in the safehouse, probably due to Dr. Pershing.

The med droid beeped, and nodded. "That is pleasant to hear. I will run a scan on you now, and determine the extent of your wounds." Elana held still as it performed the procedure, and listened to it as it listed her various bruises, scrapes and wounds, commenting on the treatment that she had given herself already.

"I will administer a bacta spray on your wounds, they will heal you in a matter of hours. Be warned, older wounds might scar even with the treatment." Elana looked down at her wrists, and suppressed a sigh. There were worse scars to have, she told herself, and gave the droid a nod.

The bacta spray was cool as it misted her skin, and it smelled sharp and sickly sweet. Her skin tingled as the spray set itself onto her wounds, starting to become numb. Sitting up straight, Elana let the droid handle the cuts and scrapes that have already been looked after, letting it apply a new layer of bacta on her skin. Some of the bruises on her back the droid could reach better than she did, and it was a relief to have those treated as well. It did not take long until Bee-Two finished with a happy beep, and rolled back.

"All finished up," it told her with a little whirr, and the eye pieces moved in a way to indicate a smile. Elana automatically smiled back, and she stood up from the desk, her wrists fully numbed. When she peered at it, she could already see skin rebuilding itself. "This is amazing," she whispered, an awed smile on her face.

"Should I call your partner back in?" Bee-Two inquired, and Elana wanted to sigh, but it would be too much of a hassle to correct the assumption, so she nodded.

"Thank you," she said, and tugged on her sleeves, rolling the fabric down. The door opened with a hiss, and she could see how the Mandalorian had been standing right in front of it, arm curled around the little child, hand hovering over his blaster. He turned his head towards them, and his shoulders dropped with an exhale. Elana gave him a hopefully reassuring smile as she moved towards him, standing straight.

The Mandalorian stiffly thanked the med droid and placed some credits in its hand, Bean almost asleep against him. Before she knew it, he had pressed a hand between her shoulder blades in a not-so-subtle way to get her to move again. Elana glared at him, but chose not to comment, and when he pushed her down the hallway, she turned her head and called out a "Thank you!" to Bee-Two, who beeped back, his robotic hand waving in goodbye.

"We're going back to the ship," the Mandalorian said, and pushed a bit more.

She threw him the dirtiest look she could manage. "I can walk by myself, don't touch me."

He immediately put his hand away, but was still using his body to crowd against Elana, forcing her to walk faster, clearly wanting to get back to the Razor Crest as soon as possible.

On their way back, Bean quietly sniffed from time to time, but he was regaining some of his usual colour. After a short transfer of the baby from his arms into hers, Elana pressed her lips against the little one's temple to take his temperature, and was satisfied when he did not feel as hot to the touch as before. Elana held him close, the warmth and the weight of the baby comforting, and the relief of him being better making her feel giddy. Arriving at the port after a quick check-out, they made their way to and ascended the ramp of the old gunship.

As soon as they were safely inside, and the lock of the ship hissed, the Mandalorian disappeared into the cockpit to start the ship. The Crest lifted shortly after, and it was not long until the jerk and sudden roar of hyperspace alerted her to them being out of reach of the station.

Bean was sleeping now, his adorable snores soothing her frayed nerves, cooing at whatever dream he had behind those closed eyelids. Smiling at him, she gently stroked his little cheek, and felt her own exhaustion of an interrupted sleep set in. The Mandalorian dropped down again, but she was too tired to even flinch at the sudden movement.

"He's all right?" The Mandalorian asked, voice gentle, and he motioned to Bean. Not bothering to actually answer, she just made a "mhh" and nodded, her eyes starting to slip shut. He offered a folded blanket to her which she took wordlessly with a nod. "He will sleep like a rock," she said, and shot him a small smile.

"Good," he said, and tilted his helmet at her, "How are you?" His voice was unexpectedly gentle.

Elana glanced down, and was surprised to see that most of the redness had receded, the wound still steadily closing. "Looks nice," she said, her lips curving up once again, "Thank you for taking us to the medcenter."

"It was nothing," the Mandalorian said quietly, helmet downturned, and he took a step back, giving her space.

It wasn't, though.

And both of them knew that.

……………

Thank you for reading!!❤

[myimaginarywonderland]

Okay, so this post will talk about Lance but I will also give my opinion on the Lando situation since I think it is important.

First off, I think it says a lot about Lando that he made an apology. Now, be it because of the backlash he faced, because he actually saw the harm he was causing or because he genuinely regrets it, that is something I don't know. What I do know is that by apologising for it, he acknowledges that his behaviour was wrong and that is really important because it shows that he reflected on himself.

While I do still feel irked by something about the message, be it that he isn't naming Lance or Lewis who he both targeted with his actions in different ways and apologise to them directly which he might have done in person, so I am not able to judge it or be it the weird sorry at the end, I can put aside my feelings and say that this was the right thing to do and is also setting an example for his fans who were one of my main issues with all of this. They then know that saying that was not right and might learn from it themselves.

But this post isn't about Lando. This post is about Lance.

As most of you might have heard, Lance was really affected by what happened on track. He can clearly see that he is anxious and uncomfortable in his post race interview and what happened afterwards tells the story (I don't really want to talk about it because this is something private that he did not share and it is like with the story on Twitter something that was shared by other people who he didn't give the right to share it too so I don't want to spread it any further.)

This is who Lance is.

Someone who is sensitive and takes a lot of things personally.

You want to know why? Because he has, as a person, always been blamed for his dad's wealth. As if he choose to grow up with a billionaire dad. As if he is somehow responsible for it.

And he has always been painted out as someone undeserving, someone that doesn't have talent and totally owns his position to the money of his dad.

Now, let me just give you some data because I want to totally discredit this made up stuff with no roots.

In 2015, he won the Toyota Racing Series. He won by a bit over 100 points. The second finisher was his teammate. You might now some of the other drivers who competed in this series for example one Callum Iliot or Artjom Markelow.

Or in 2016,his first season in Formula 3, he finished fifth. The winner of that year was Felix Rosenquvist (a great driver) who was also Lance teammate and had only one DNF in comparison to Lance 5 and a DSQ. Now, there are two other drivers, one that was the runner up in Antonio Giovinazzi and a fourth who was Charles Leclerc. Pretty competitive field if you ask me and to finish 5th as a rookie,is impressive.

Now, fast forward a year to when he won the F3 championship. He won over his teammate by a margin of over 150 points which is so impressive, even with the two more DNFs his teammate, Maximilian Günther (another great driver) had that is quiet a lot.

Now, if you really want to use the argument that he skipped F2 against him, there is another driver you should be discrediting just as much. You guessed it, M*x V*rstappen. He also went straight into F1 which was a definite mistake but nobody ever likes to say that. I would also like you to remember that Lance did not drive for F1 as a regular driver immediately after he won the championship, no in 2016 he was a test driver, so he could slowly get used to F1. (This is not official but I would guess it's the thought process behind him being a test driver.)

Now, in 2017, his first F1 season, he was teammates of Felipe Massa. Might have heard of him, lost his championship to Lewis by one point, was teammate of Micheal Schumacher and a generally way more experienced driver. Yeah, you wanna know what the difference between him and Lance was in Lance first season? 3 points. And Lance had 2 more DNFs. You know what else he got in his first season? His first podium. In his first season, he became one of the youngest people to ever achieve a podium. With just 7 rounds into his first F1 season, in an okay midfield car with a way more experienced and older driver he was up against, he achieved a podium. And during the entire course of the season, that would remain the only podium for the Williams team that year.

Now, onto 2018. Williams was not as bad as in 2019 but they were still nowhere in terms of pace and he still didn't finish last in the championship (but I don't think we can count this season.)

In 2019, Checo became his teammate. And Checo in my opinion is one of the best midfield drivers, so there was already a lot he had to go up against and he was still so young and had less experience. There is a 30 point difference between them. Make of that what you want but for me, sure it was not Lance greatest season but now you have to think if Racing Point where really that good go be the fifth best car or if maybe, Checo just got more out of the car with his experience and talent. And than, you have to consider that he was still young and only had one season where he was truly competitive (that 2018 Williams was not something you could truly challenge anyone with.) And to then be up to one of the best midfield drivers who is widely appreciated and adored by the paddock, is a lot. Maybe for some of you it was too big of a gap which is alright.

However, don't dismiss his talent. He has had a good junior career and was up to some of the drivers you love and call talented, he even beat some of your faves. Maybe you don't see him as the next great driver but he is not a bad one and truly deserves a seat if you consider his achievements. Maybe he could have proven himself more if he had a season in F2 which is fair but that doesn't take away from anything he has achieved.

And even if you don't see him as talented, that gives you no right to bully him online. He can't change who his dad is.

Now,onto the money. I see a lot of people saying that he is only in F1 because of the money (which I hope you have by now realized is not the case.) But really, let's talk about the money.

Money is something that sadly plays a big role in F1. F1 is above all still a business. And businesses want money. So, why not take someone who has money and talent like Lance? Where are you all saying Michael only got his seat because of money (he is a pay-driver after all or at least he was one when he came to F1.) And now let's talk about his move to Racing Point. Can you truly blame Lawrence for wanting to make his sons dream come true? Wouldn't any father if they had the resources do this? Wouldn't any father want to fufill his son's dream, even if it might be seen as unethical by some or criticized? Would you really care if you saw how happy your kid was? Would you really care if you saw the glow you kid had? I don't think so.

I already said it but he was at Williams before he was at RP. His dad doesn't own that team or have any chairs in it.

Let's forget his profession for a second. Let's say you don't find him talented as a driver or just don't like him, fine. You are entitled to your opinion and sometimes we just don't like people, it happens.

What else would you have against him?

He doesn't post on social media often because people already bully him enough for his family. There is basically nothing you can dislike about him there.

And as a person? He is quiet and basically does nothing to anger people. He is literally just a normal dude. He goes on trips with his friends, he does sports to stay in shape and watches sports. He is not even posting personal stuff because he doesn't want to give people more room to bully him.

If you saw him on the street, would you think he is from a rich family? He does not look like it at all, he looks like that guy from your local sport who is literally just a college student trying to get through life.

And not only was he discredited for all his accomplishments because of something he had no control over but he also saw another driver proudly display a symbol that has been used by people who killed people who belonged to his religion. He saw a driver weat that symbol in cooperation with a company whose boos seems to be a Neo Nazi.

Lance has had to go through to so much shit just because his dad was rich (which Nicky's and Lando's also are, yes I know it's less but it's still more than any of us will probably ever have.)

This boy does nothing wrong.

Did he make a mistake with the maneuvers on Lando? Yes. But he is still so young and also new to F1, he can still learn and is growing as a person and driver. He is expected to perform more just so he proves his worth which he already has because people discredit him for having a rich dad.

Have you seen what he has done this season? He would be in the top 5 had it not been for the last races where none of the DNFs where his fault. Neither was getting Covid or being ill but people literally made fun of him for being in pain, saying stuff like "Did Daddies boy have a little stomach ache?" Yeah, because F1 drivers aren't trainex to perform no matter what, aren't putting their health last when it comes to these things and might have to be really bad if they can't drive and are not even going out of their room.

He has improved so much, he is not blaming other drivers even if they clearly hit him (see Charles) and he stays calm. Because he can't afford to be to emotional since some people would hate him for rightfully calling out others mistakes and just maybe saying that their faves are not flawless and make mistakes (like Charles.)

He has to act a certain way or be a certain way because what would happen if he just showed more of his personality? You call him dull, boring but you don't even try to get to know him. You don't even look up videos where he is more open and comfortable.

He is awkward infront of the press because he has to fear to be discredited or to be questioned about his worth every second.

And all of this pressure, this mask and this pretend eventhough he is just as human as the rest of us. And you see how hard it is, how much he questions himself, how his self-doubt increases and ultimately what happened has happened.

Because while it is just an easy insult for you that you can post anonymously online, it is one of thousands for him.

And you know, he didn't grew up in Europe. Sure he competed with some of the European drivers later one but he didn't have any of them when he started racing and he might already have been an outcast because people would already have seen him as different since his family didn't need to make sacrifices to get him to wear he is now. At least not financially ones. And then, when he came to Europe there were these already formed friend groups and it wasn't easy to get into them. The only friend he had was Esteban and I am so glad. This seems like such an unlikely friendship because they are from totally different backgrounds but that might have been what connected them in the first place. So, with basically only Esteban who liked him from the competitive times, it must have been pretty bad (not to say that the others hated him but I don't think they really cared for him.) I am so glad to see that he now also has Checo and that they get along and I hope that stays this way eventhough all of what has happened (which is also not his fault and I am sure that if he had any say in it, it would have been done differently.) Maybe we can even see their friendship when Checo stays on the grid. And with the potential of Seb next year, that might be the only other friendship or friendly connection he might form.

He is so strong for having to endure the dislike of so many people and he is still so kind and so sweet.

This has been a long post but one that I have wanted to make for a long time. If you got this far, I applaude you.

[everyonesfavoritelesbowrites]

Prompt: 1. Love Letter

Fanfic - SFW

Pansy x Hermione - Harry Potter

Background Luna x Ginny + Draco x Harry

TW: N\A

A03

A\N: Happy Valentine's day everyone! ❤️ This isn't exactly baised on the universe of my upcoming Pansmione fanfiction but some aspects are sprinkled in. I hope you enjoy :)

(I didn't go through and edit it, so sorry for anything)

"Happy Valentine's day, Pansy."

Pansy jolts suddenly, turning to her side to see Luna has popped up by her, smiling brightly. The young platinum blonde woman is covered in glitter, lip stick marks across her cheeks, and holds a large pile of red and pink papers. She radiates more color than the entire hallway they stand in, or even the entirety of Hogwarts.

Pansy raises a brow. "Thanks Luna, happy Valentine's day. You got something..." She vaguely gestures at Luna, "all over you."

Luna chuckles softly. "Ginny loves Valentine's day."

Pansy lets out an airy laugh. "I can see that."

Luna fumbles through the stack of papers in her hands, pulling out a bright pink card, in the shape of a heart, and hands it to Pansy.

Pansy blinks at it, stopping in her tracks. "What is it?"

"It's a Valentine's card. I made it just for you." Luna pushes it forward a bit more. "It isn't cursed or anything."

The corner of Pansy's lips tilt upward. "I didn't think it was." She gentle takes the heart shaped paper. It's covered in glitter and stickers, little drawings and it seems to have a charm making it smell of sugar cookies and chocolate.

Pansy looks back up. "Thank you, Luna. I... I don't have anything for you, I'm sorry."

Luna only smiles. "Don't be. I don't aspect anything in return."

Pansy watches her leave, probably off to find the others she made Valentine's for. Pansy looks back down at the card in her hands and she can't help the small smile on her face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Happy Valentine's Day, Pans." Ginny smiles as Pansy takes a seat next to her at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall.

"Happy Valentine's day, Ginny." The words feel strange coming out of her mouth, but she means every word. "Luna's really into this Valentine's day stuff, huh?"

Ginny laughs with a soft blush, she also has glitter all over herself. Pansy reaches over and pulls of a sticker of a Niffler off of Ginny's shoulder, holding it up towards the woman. Pansy chuckles at Ginny's flush.

Ginny sticks the sticker on the back of her hand. "Did you get shy Valentine's? Any secret love letters?" Ginny wiggles her brow and Pansy rolls her eyes with a scoff.

"As if."

"Aw. Not even from those gross fourth years?"

Pansy glances over to the group of fourth years who had seemed to get a rather huge crush on her within the last few weeks. Pansy laughs. "No, they know they don't stand a chance." A Fourth year thinking they could get an eighth year? Haliorius.

Ginny raises a brow, leaning over. "And who does stand a chance, Parkinson?"

Pansy narrows her eyes at the mischievous look Ginny holds. "Absolutely no one, Weaslette."

"Not even Hermione?"

Pansy jumps again, Luna stands right behind her with a knowing smiling. Pansy blushes and narrows her eyes.

Ginny wiggles her eyebrows. "You should send her a letter."

Pansy rolls her eyes, grabbing her fork and turning to her food. "Absolutely not."

Luna slides in next to Ginny, resting her chin her her shoulder as they both look at Pansy.

"What?" Ginny smirks. "Too scared to send your crush an love letter?"

Pansy shoots her another glare. "I'm not scared."

"Then do it." Ginny pokes at Pansy's arm.

Luna frowns as she can sense her friend growing uncomfortable and overwhelmed. "Gin, don't push her."

Ginny frowns, taking in Pansy's stance. Her eyes fixated on her plate and she toys with her fork, breath a bit uneven.

She goes to apologise but Owls fly into the Great Hall, each if them dropping letters or gifts at people.

Pansy's owl, Oliver, drops off a small letter before landing on Pansy's shoulder. Pansy blinks at the white envelope before her, heart racing. Oliver hoots softly, and Pansy gives him a loving pet before he flies off.

"Ooh. Looks like someone's got you a letter." Ginny leans over, looking at the envelope with curiosity.

"Open it, Pansy." Luna says softly, a smile on her face that tells Pansy that she knows exactly who gave her this.

Pansy shakes her head. "It's probably just another prank card or one of the fourth years got the courage to send me something."

"Perhaps." Ginny says, smirking. "But what if it isn't?"

Pansy stares at Ginny, uncertain. It very much could be from someone other than a Fourth year or a prankster, but it very much couldn't be from Hermione... Could it?

Sighing, she turns back to the letter, opening it swiftly and pulls out the parchment inside.

'Dear Pansy,

Happy Valentine's day.

I am not sure how to say this or how to go on about this, but I think it's been long enough. I realized that I have always had a crush on you, although I didn't quite know it then. Despite you being an absolute arse throughout the past seven years, I still found you beautiful. And this year, after discovering how sweet you can accutally be - seeing your true self - the crush I had for you flourished into acutal love. It feels so sudden, but then again, everything in my life has always been sudden. I understand you may not return my feelings, and that's alright. I just couldn't go forward without admiting this, and luckily enough Valentine's day is the perfect opportunity.

I am truly falling in love with you, Pansy. And I hope you may be to.

With Love,

Hermione Granger'

Pansy blinked, utterly surprised but not at all disappointed.

"Who's it from?" Pansy turns to see Draco had taken the seat beside her, leaning against the table while looking at her curiously.

Pansy instead turns around, looking for that curly maine at the Gryffindor Table, instead she sees Harry Potter pointing towards the Great Hall doors. She follows and sees what looks like brown curly hair sneaking away.

Without another thought, Pansy stands and follows Hermione with quick steps, not hearing Draco's voice of confusion and Ginny shutting him up.

She catches up to her a hallway away. "Hermione!"

The Gryffindor stops in her tracks, then turns around slowly. "Pansy. I- I'm sorry if that letter was too much. I didn't want to cross any lines or ruin this friendship we- why are you smiling like that?"

Pansy is, indeed, smiling. Probably brighter than she has ever before. "You think too much, 'mione."

Pansy steps forward, letter still in her hand as she takes Hermione's face into her hands. Hermione blushes deeply, eyes wide. "I have to admit... I always had a crush on you, I always knew it, and I definitely am falling into love with you." Hermione smiles brightly making Pansy blush, "and I would like to kiss you right now, if you want me to, that is-."

Hermione closes the distance, lips meeting with a firm but gentle press. It's simple and chaste, but still holds so much emotion, more than words ever could.

Pulling away, Hermione laughs and Pansy joins. For once in her life, Valentine's day hasn't been boring.

02\14\21

[mintsuke]

For Rent || 4.5 - Touché

Kita Shinsuke x f!Reader SMAU

Warning: Mention of implied sex

Note: The cafe is inspired by the Gäbi Coffee and Bakery in Las Vegas. (look up pictures, it’s a really cute place, the bathrooms are just as pretty too I wanted to cry)

Masterlist | Previous | Next

You’re not really sure what you’re expecting on this date. You told Atsumu to just have his friend meet you at one of your favorite cafes in town. Surely a cliche first date location, but you wanted a feel for the boy if you were going to help him out and whatnot. 

Arriving at the place, you really hadn’t expected for your date to be there before you. An admirable trait, really. You only heard snippets of Atsumu and Osamu’s high school days, and if you remember well, their robotic captain was always the first in the clubroom without fail. 

Digital pictures really never did people justice. That much stayed true when you caught a glimpse of the former volleyball captain. He stood out with his short silver hair, the tips singed with black. From where you stood, he was of average height, his clothes hiding what you imagined was a lean body from years of volleyball and manual work in the rice fields. He was dressed nicely in a beige sweater with a white collared shirt underneath and khakis. 

Pretty from afar sometimes meant pretty up close, and boy were you two seconds away from sobbing into your phone. 

“Excuse me, are you Miya Atsumu’s friend?” You ask, leaning into his field of vision. A pair of almond eyes focus on your form. The man seems almost stunned by the sight of you, blinking once before his composure quickly returns.

“Yes, are you (L/n) (F/n)-san?” 

Oh. Wow his voice. 

“That would be me, Atsu didn’t mention any name, so I apologise,” You smile softly as he bows slightly and you mirror his movements in return.

“No worries, Kita Shinsuke, it’s a pleasure to meet you (L/n)-san.”

“Just (F/n) is fine, after all, we are supposed to be ‘dating’ right?” 

He doesn’t show any reaction or distaste and simply nods in understanding and suggests you call him Shinsuke. Although, he silently notes the way you refer to his former junior by a nickname. 

“Did he mention to you that I’m a... a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?” You decide to ask, given how absolutely dumb your close friend can be. 

The surprise that passes through his expression like a car speeding past is adorable to say the least. His body noticeably stiffens and he shakes his head. 

“He only mentioned you helping me out with gaining experience, a ‘fake’ date, but don’t worry about me feeling uncomfortable. I guess I have been stressing a little too much lately, the twins were able to tell.”

“Really? Want to talk about it inside?” You gesture towards the cafe, and he nods. Kita moves to take a step forward when you stop him. The confusion in his eyes and the slight way his brows furrow is cute. 

“Is something wrong?”

“We’re on a date, so why don’t we hold hands?”

The idea clicks in his head and he offers a good-natured upturn of his lips, presenting an outstretched hand. Taking it, you make a mental note of the size in comparison to yours, his skin warm to the touch as your fingers lace and he leads you towards the entrance. He only lets go when he has to open the door and beckons you inside. A gesture that makes you a little giddy, given that most dates don’t do so. 

A little chivalry never hurt, and Kita was already charming you.

The inside was one of your favorite parts, at least besides the delicious desserts and refreshing drinks. Vintage-esque paintings, planters hanging from the ceiling with trailing vines, tall bookcases lining the walls, and an assortment of mismatched chair and tables that all added to the aesthetic of the place.

He nearly tripped over his own feet when you tugged him excitedly towards the display of desserts. He watched as your eyes glowed with near adoration of the assortment for that day. 

“Pick anything you want, I’m paying,” He said as you eyed the earl grey cheesecake. The statement made you stand up straight.

“Wh-what, no that’s okay, I can pay for myself.”

“This is a date right? I’m paying,” He smiles slyly as it soon becomes your turn in line to the register.

Touché, you think inwardly with a pout. 

“So let’s hear about it,” You smile as you both find a seat at a velvet love seat with a wooden coffee table settled in front. “If it’s alright with you at least.”

“Of course,” He chuckles lightly, “My grandmother has been constantly bringing up marriage and children whenever she can. I want to make her happy of course, my grandmother is my world. I guess it’s just been weighing down on my mind... and I’m not particularly looking or anything, I guess maybe I don’t where to start... I’m sure Atsumu probably mentioned that I never had a girlfriend...”

“Mm... I see, that’s sweet that you want to make her happy, but you have to worry about your own happiness too Shinsuke,” You say thoughtfully, “I’m sure she means no harm, but there’s no rush in trying to be tied down.”

A smile. 

“Thank you, I appreciate your words. I suppose I can still try this ‘trial’ out, if you’re up for it. Practice makes perfect after all.”

“Of course!”

After small talk, a little getting to know the other, all the while enjoying your drinks and desserts, you lead him on a walk. To say the least, you immensely adored the way his facade would crack ever so slightly at the smallest things. The way his eyes widened a fraction and ears reddened as you prodded the seam of lips with your spoon full of cheesecake. To which he accepted and followed with a spoon of his own dessert.

Hands laced together and sides pressed close. You had gone over a few policies, or at least rules to put it a little more informally, since you were going on multiple dates. It was all basic necessities like no feelings and the importance of consent. The last was a given, but you always made it your mission to bring it up as an importance for any and everyone who rented your services.

“You... You don’t do sexual services do you?” 

You forget that Atsumu mentioned how straightforward Kita can be. Hearing it coming from him is like a punch to the gut and you cough when you choke on your spit. 

“S-sorry, that caught me off guard,” You laugh weakly as you both sit on the swings at a park that had been nearby. He sits idly as your feet push you back and forth in small gentle swings, not enough to catch air or lift your feet off the ground. 

“I apologize if it was too forward of me.”

“No, well, no one has really asked me that question...” You reply meekly, “It’s not necessarily part of the job description but some customers ask for it I suppose... but I never really go that far... only twice... I guess... if I were to be real honest with you. Most times I decline because I feel uncomfortable and the guys are really good about respecting me.”

“It’s a little odd since I’m supposed to be catering to my date’s wishes, but I can’t really do anything about it...”

He makes a noise of appraisal. He’s not quite sure why he thinks the way he does. Imagining the other guys you must have gone on similar dates with. Did you take them to that particular cafe as well? Hold their hand and smile that same smile. 

“So how do you know Atsumu? I don’t think you attended Inarizaki...”

“I didn’t,” You smile, “He actually rented me a long while ago. A loss game and constant dating rumors were stressing him out, to say the least, he needed a stress reliever and a break from being asked if it’s true he’s dating so-and-so.” You pause in case he wants to interject,  but he keeps silent. You opt to changing activity, climbing the playground set despite the obvious sign that reads children only. 

“We stayed close friends afterwards, he helps me out a lot, and even Osamu had gotten me a side job at Onigiri Miya.”

Even worse, he sighs inwardly. Another poke to the roaring thoughts inside his head. You had done the same with his junior, if not further? 

There’s a shift in the atmosphere, and you both feel a little odd. He wonders if it was a mistake asking about Atsumu. You wonder, on the other hand, if you’ve said too much. But he’s a friend of your close friends, it wouldn’t hurt right? 

He seems to notice the awkward air that’s settled around you both and scratches the back of his head timidly.

 “That was a little invasive of me wasn’t it? I apologize.”

“N-no it’s alright, you are a friend of Atsu, so I don’t mind,” You laugh slightly.

“Well, if you do feel uncomfortable, or I cross a line, please let me know and I’ll respect you.”

The way your chest flutters at the statement is dangerous. You ignore the feeling as you smile thankfully. He was kind nonetheless and you liked that.

Kita tells stories of his time as a volleyball player, dealing with the antics and constant bickering between the two twins, managing a team of exceptional players. His eyes light up tremendously, almost sparkling as he talks about different moments, both good and sad. 

You don’t even realize how you’ve been completely sucked into his world, listening to every word. Watching the way his face turns with nostalgia. He pauses every now and then to gauge your reaction, smiling momentarily to see you so invested in his tales. 

“What about you? Why did you decide on working as a ‘girlfriend-for-rent’?”

Oh. 

Emotion spills onto your face, more than you mean to, and Kita is quick to notice the shift in your expression.

“That...”

He shakes his head and puts his hand up to stop you, “It was a touchy question wasn’t it? Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you...” You offer softly, almost reluctant to speak in case your emotions start going haywire. Your mood immediately drops and he’s aware of this. 

When Atsumu pulls up to pick you up, you stop in your tracks and turn to your date. He watches curiously as you move closer, until the distance gradually lessens and your body presses to his. Arms wrap around his middle and he’s speechless for a second.

“It’s a hug Shinsuke, we’re dating still, right?” 

Ah. Yeah. He chuckles, a little relieved that despite his mess ups, you still continued to act accordingly. This was business as usual after all.

+Taglist | Closed!

@differentballooncollection​​ @sugawsites​​ @oikawalmart-hq​​ @tremendousglitterthing @90s-belladonna​​ @kiyoojima​​ @unqstuffles​​ @chaelysian​​ @arisu003​​

(comments replies will be from my main blog @minnochu​ | couldn’t tag in bold)

[jeonggukingdom]

splinters of love • day XVI [ksj]

pairing  ⟶ kim seokjin x fem!Reader

summary  ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site. Specifically  ⟶  • day XVI ↳ in which you casually fall asleep on this stranger’s shoulder in the train and he has no idea what to do so he skips his own stop and waits for you to wake up until, crap, you’ve reached the terminal and now you both have to get out and figure out an alternative way to reach your homes.

genre  ⟶ fluff

rating  ⟶ G

word count ⟶  2.201 words

warnings  ⟶ none except Seokjin being an absolute angel, knight in shining armor, smooth boyfriend material random dude on a bus

series masterlist  ⟶ here  (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!)

author’s note  ⟶ @cupcake416​ I don’t know who your bias is or what your favourite genre is but you mentioned that today was going to be your birthday so I wanted to dedicate this drabble to you regardless to wish you THE HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY EVER! I hope you’ll like this little story and if I can manage to put even just a little smile on your face I’ll consider myself happy, ah ah ♥

The bus is almost completely packed tonight and you huff as you climb the little stairs to help you inside. You miss the convenience of owning a car and not have to stand for an entire ride after such a long day at work but, alas, you don't own that luxury anymore and you won't for a little while.

Your lips form a little pout as you scan your surroundings and then, your eyes land on the only free spot in the entire bus and your eyes light up as if your eyes had just landed on the biggest treasure ever known to mankind.

With a smile stretched on your coral-tinted lips, you hurry through the corridor and very unceremoniously drop on the empty seat with a victorious grin.

Your cheeks heat up the instant you catch the stranger sitting next to you looking at you, a baffled expression on his features and the hint of a pending chuckle on his plump lips.

You offer him a sheepish smile, retreating inside your shoulders as if in a silent apology for startling him and disrupting his peace.

He gives you a gentle smile in return while shaking his head and then, his eyes shift back on the window to peer outside the busy streets while music plays loudly in his ears.

You exhale loudly, getting as comfortable on the seat as possible and fix your own gaze ahead of you as you usually do to get lost inside your own thoughts.

The stress of the day slowly washes off your body and you relax ever so slightly with each passing second until the motion of the bus turns you drowsy with sleep and then, without you even realising it, your eyes close and with a turn of the bus, your head lands exactly on that poor stranger's shoulder.

Seokjin jumps at the sudden touch, his heart missing a few beats in his chest before turning absolutely rampant. His eyes shift from the glass to you and his mouth opens in bewilderment as he realizes you have fallen asleep just like that and fell on top of him.

He would have woken you up if it weren't for the peaceful expression on your features, for the dark circles under your eyes that he hadn't noticed at first.

He bites his bottom lip unsure of what he's supposed to do, especially considering that his stop is the next one in line and this is the last bus he'll be able to catch tonight in order to go home.

He ponders and ponders and just finds himself unable to do anything about you and the way your entire weight is being supported by his shoulder.

He heaves out a sigh, curses himself under his breath and simply waits for you to wake up. Maybe, if he's lucky enough, you'll wake up soon and he will just walk a few blocks to get home.

Sadly, you do not wake up and minutes tick by and by until you are the only two passengers on the bus.

His heart drops in his chest the instant he feels the bus stop and realizes you have reached the terminal and now he has no choice but to wake you up.

He grimaces but shakes you awake as gently as possible, he offers you a gentle smile as you jump at the sudden contact and look up at him in surprise.

"You fell asleep," he says, barely above a whisper as his cheeks turn a nice shade of pink under your intense gaze.

Your cheeks feel as hot as the sun, instead, shame filling you up to the very core as you jolt backwards apologising over and over again.

"It's ok, it happens," he offers as a consolation but then you watch his eyes fill with doubt, his bottom lip suddenly trapped under his teeth as his eyebrows furrow.

"Oh! I just realised this must be your stop!" You get up in an instant failing to realize the bus is empty and that the driver is looking at the both of you rather unamused by the fact that you are wasting too much of his precious time.

Seokjin gets up then, scratches the back of his head as he shakes it lightly.

"Well that's... uh... we kind of reached the terminal."

"What?!" You finally look around and blood drains from your features as your mouth opens in utter shock, "Wait, why didn't you wake me up sooner?!"

Seokjin's mouth opens and closes, opens and closes as he looks at you completely baffled.

"Well, I didn't want to wake you up! You looked tired and like you needed the rest so I just..."

He seems to become smaller under your gaze and that's when you realize you are being incredibly ungrateful right about now and just as you open your mouth to apologise, the driver decides to chime in and not so kindly ask you to leave the damned bus and figure it out on your own outside his vehicle.

That's how you find yourself standing in the cold night against a stranger with absolutely not a single clue on what to do next.

"I'm Seokjin by the way," he says after a few minutes of very thick and awkward silence.

"Oh, I'm _______," you offer him a smile and your hand and he quickly grabs it which makes your smile deepen a tad bit more.

He seems to be just as lost and uncomfortable as you are as you stand there like two idiots, looking around as if the solution is suddenly going to pop out behind the corner and save you from this awkward and romcom-like situation.

"I'm sorry for yelling earlier I was just taken aback... uhm, thank you, for, well, everything, I guess."

You look at your feet as you say this, torture your fingers as your insides twitch uncomfortably inside of you.

If you could disappear inside the bitumen, you so would.

Seokjin, instead, hums at your words, shifts his weight from left to right while keeping his gaze trained entirely on you.

"So... how far away do you live?"

You close your eyes and heave out a sigh as you think about walking for such a long distance in the middle of the night and with bloody heels on.

"Definitely too far for a walk," you mumble, shaking your head as you start pondering over the idea of calling a cab or a friend to come to your rescue.

"Same," he says, chuckling at the predicament you've both fallen into because of, well, you.

"Maybe we can call someone?" You suggest, finally lifting your gaze to look at him.

"Yeah, uhm, I don't think my friends are going to pick up anytime soon... it's the weekend after all."

You nod your head a couple of times pretty sure that's the case with you as well, not to mention you don't even have an endless list of friends to choose from.

"We could call a cab?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he pushes his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh. Well, I don't... uhm."

How do you confess to a stranger that you cannot afford a cab ride that long? You grimace and evidently, he can see it pretty well under the moonlight because without you having to add more, he hums and offers you a meek 'me neither' as a response which, honestly, would have made you chuckle if your heart hadn't just dropped deep within your chest.

"So walking it is," you say then, heaving out a sigh as you finally decide to take the lead and walk away from the stupid terminal.

Seokjin follows suit in silence but this time it's more comfortable and it seems to ease up your nerves. He didn't even ask you where you live exactly, he's just following you blindly so you curiously look up at him trying to decide if you should be worried by it or grateful.

"So," you say after a while, "Your house is in the same direction as mine?"

"Not really," he confesses, making himself small inside his wide shoulders.

"Oh..."

Seokjin stops on his tracks, looks at you for a second and then, realization twists his features into a stupefied expression that prompts a chuckle to escape your lips.

"I'm not following you! I mean, I am but not because... I mean no offence because you can probably take care of yourself just fine but I wouldn't really feel at peace letting you walk home by yourself at this hour of the night."

"You are awfully nice, did anyone ever tell you that?"

Seokjin laughs, his eyes reducing to two adorable half-moons as he does so and soon enough, you are chuckling right along with him, unable to resist his contagious laugh.

That's how it starts.

You find out that talking to Seokjin comes pretty easily, that he is witty and funny and comfortable to be around to and so much so, he feels like someone you've known for most of your life and that have just met after years of being apart.

The only downside to it all is that your legs are killing you, not to even mention your feet. It is when you absolutely can not take it anymore that you stop to take the shoes from hell off of your poor feet and sigh at the sensation of your soles lying flat on the dirty bitumen.

"Oh no, you are so not going to walk with your naked feet! Do you have any idea of the dirt and thousands of germs that live there?!"

"Well, I can't walk in these stupid heels a second longer so this will have to do."

Seokjin shakes his head, sighs deeply and then he crouches down before you, offering you his wide back to hop onto.

"Are you kidding me? You are offering me a piggyback ride right now?"

"Well, doesn't look like I have much of a choice right now, does it?"

He looks at you from behind his back, his eyes pointedly fixed on your features as he urges you to hop on his back already so that he can safely you accompany you back home once and for all.

It's with all the shyness and insecurity of the world that you do this, allow his arms to wrap around your thighs and yours around his neck.

"You really are awfully nice," you whisper in his ear and Seokjin chuckles again, nodding his head because he realizes how absurd this all is and to be honest, he doesn't know himself why he is doing all of this for someone he has barely met but... well, there's just something about you that makes him want to help you and he can't explain it but it's there and he simply cannot ignore it.

You don't know exactly how long has passed since you left the bus' terminal but it might as well been days because that is how tired you are by the time you finally reach your apartment complex and Seokjin frees you from his grasp.

"I don't know how I can possibly repay you for all that you did for me tonight," you say as your feet land on the bitumen and you look up to him, your lips protruded forward into a little pout.

Seokjin smiles then, mirth shining in his black eyes as he tilts his head to the side.

He can't believe himself he is about to say this but, hell, this is probably his only chance so might as well try, no?

"Well, you could give me your number."

You look up to him in surprise, mouth slightly agape at the bold question you would have never expected to fall from his plump lips.

The most shocking part of it, though, is the fact that you don't even need to think about it to know the answer.

Maybe it was destiny that brought you together, maybe it was fate that decided you had to find that empty spot, fall asleep on his shoulder and no one else's. You don't know but a part of you decides to believe that, to take a chance for once in your life and that's how Seokjin ends up with your number registered in his phone and a grateful kiss on his right cheek.

Your hearts beat frantically in your chests as he walks the opposite way to finally reach his house and you run up the stairs that lead you to your apartment.

It takes Seokjin exactly twenty seconds to ring your phone after you turn your back on him and it takes just two for you to eagerly pick up while closing the door behind your back.

It takes Seokjin forty additional minutes to walk himself home while you keep him company by talking to him on the phone.

It takes three hours for you to end the call and close your eyes on this absurd days and well, it turns out that sometimes it takes a lot less than twenty-four hours for two people to fall in love.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[fangirlofbooksandpasta]

It started with a study group

Young!Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!reader

Based of this post by @scaredofvscogirls​, from my request (thank you btw!!)

Third year

The house teachers had made study groups for the students. That was how the whole thing started. Study groups in the third year – houses mixed together. Next to you sat a Gryffindor boy who was writing something in a notebook. He looked very concentrated. His brows were furrowed together and he was almost sticking the very end of his tongue out, but you couldn’t see that much. Although you could see the scars across his face, which made you wonder about him and what had happened to him. You recognised him, but his name and who he was had completely slipped your mind.

‘You may now begin practicing the spell! Remember to speak clearly and do the right wand movement, otherwise it can go very wrong,’ Professor McGonagall warned about a new transfiguration spell you were to practise together.

The boy turned to face you and you smiled nervously and moved a little to the side in order not to seem like a creep, you had basically been looking at what he was writing and just realized how inappropriate it was. But he was smiling and his eyes told you that he was a calm person.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise that I was snooping.’ You apologised. You could feel that you were blushing, but he just smirked slightly at your apology and ran a hair through his curly hair.

‘No worries,’ he said and chuckled slightly. ‘You’re Y/N, right?’ He asked curiously. You were kind of surprised that he knew your name, as the two of you had never spoken before, maybe once in your first year. But you resonated his knowing of your name with the study groups being posted in every dorm, and you had classes together anyways.

‘Yeah, I’m sorry but I don’t remember your name?’ you stated. You weren’t exactly embarrassed but somehow it felt weird that you didn’t know the name of a classmate.

‘Remus Lupin,’ he answered and quickly something clicked in your head; he was a part of that group that everyone lowkey feared. James Potter and Sirius Black were notorious for casting charms and hexes on more or less innocent students.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t hex you,’ Remus said as if he had just read your thoughts. You chuckled nervously and glanced into your book.

‘Well, should we get started?’ You asked at which Remus nodded eagerly and moved his book closer to himself. So it started.

***

Fourth year 

‘You know what we need?’ you asked Remus as the two of you walked towards the library. The study groups had ended in the third year, but you and Remus had agreed to keep working together. You had a good dynamic together and you improved each other. Like two mad scientists who kept prompting mad science – just magic.

‘We need a lot of things here, but what do you have in mind?’ Remus replied sarcastically as he pushed the door to the library open. You rolled your eyes before you followed him to the very end of the library where there was an isolated table where your conversation wouldn’t be disturbing other students. The library was almost empty anyways, as most students were home on holiday with their families.

‘A debate club,’ you stated. Remus tilted his head to the right while wearing a curious expression.

‘What do you mean?’ He asked and sat down in a chair. You looked around for a moment until you found a good way of explaining it.

‘It’s a club where students meet and discuss different topics. Like politics, for example. I was thinking about it last night after our talk about werewolves in the magical society and how it’s basically racism and discrimination towards a minority-‘

‘Over half of that discussion was you explaining those terms to James, Sirius and Peter.’

‘But you get what I mean! Right? I mean, in Ravenclaw we spend loads of time discussing things but I think it’s something that loads of students from all houses and years would enjoy,’ you said. Remus looked around the library while he thought about your proposal. He looked at you with a smile and those warm eyes and nodded.

‘I think we should ask the teachers about making such a club. I think you’re right, a lot of students could gain a ton from such a club, especially in these times with politics heating up,’ Remus stated before he looked down into his book. You hugged him tightly from behind, happy that he wanted to do this with you. You didn’t know, since you couldn’t see his face, but he was smiling wider than he remembered being able to and he was blushing immensely. He loved your touch but he was also too shy to let it be known. At least for now.

***

Sixth year 

Brunch was almost over and you were ready to spend the Saturday reading – you had gotten Ulysses and had prepared with snacks from Hogsmeade, which were hidden safely a place you roommates couldn’t figure out. The Ravenclaws next to you moved for Remus to sit down. They all knew him and many wondered how he had come to be sorted into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw. Either way, he was a friend of nearly everyone and they all said hello when he decided to spend time at their table or when you let him into your common room.

‘What’s up?’ you asked him as you sipped your tea. He looked kind of nervous which in a way it suited him. His dishevelled hair and hoodie. In the weekends you didn’t have to wear uniforms, and Remus was a big supporter of hoodies, zip-up or just regular, but always with a t-shirt underneath.  

‘I was wondering if, er, you wanted to study together? We’re going to sit outside and study, or, me and Lily are. James, Sirius and Peter are probably going to do anything but study hehe,’ he asked while running his hand through his hair. You smiled and took his hand. You knew that he calmed down by the touch of you, although he didn’t say it, or didn’t know. It was just something you had noticed over the years. It was, after all, your sixth year and you had been friends since the third. That damned study group.

‘Sure. I don’t have any homework though, so I’ll just be reading. I can bring some snacks?’ You suggested and he smiled and nodded.

‘Sure, sounds good. We’re going to go out after brunch, I just need to get something from the dorm, wanna come with?’ he asked, once again nervously. You squeezed his hand and smiled.

‘Of course.’

You followed him through the picture of the fat lady while surrounded by the rest of the Marauders. You knew all of them, it came with being a friend of Remus’s. Lily and you often talked about the stupid things they got up to sometimes. But you couldn’t help but admire how the boys used the magic they learned, and how much magic they taught themselves because the classes were too easy or went too slow for them.

Remus led you up the stairs. He opened the wooden door with his shoulder first.

‘I’m sorry about the mess, you know who I live with…’ he trailed off as he pushed the door open. Before you was a red and golden round room. It was incredibly cosy. There hung posters of motorcycles, quidditch flags and banners, books everywhere, and magical objects, all of which you couldn’t even name.

‘It’s awesome!’ you exclaimed with a big smile. You hurried over to a window and looked out. The view was fantastic – part of the lake was visible as well as the quidditch stadium. You turned around to face Remus. He was leaning against a bedpost with his backpack halfway over his shoulder. He was smiling and his eyes shone with admiration at which you couldn’t help but smile yourself. You flopped your book onto a random bed and walked over to him and hugged him. He was a little surprised at first but quickly settled into the feeling and hugged you back, tightly.

***

Seventh year

‘Can you believe that it’s our last year?’ Lily asked into the air, the question not directed at anyone. James kissed her temple and she blushed slightly. She still hadn’t gotten used to the attention and affection given to her by James.

‘It’s unbelievable,’ Peter said while chewing on a chocolate frog. They were gathered in the common room on an early spring evening.

‘Do you know what you’re doing after school?’ Sirius Peter asked when he had swallowed the chocolate.

‘I think we should go travelling together, the six of us,’ Sirius said smiling. They had been talking about a trip for many years, but never actually started planning anything. James and Lily looked at each other as if they bore some deep secret.

‘What’s up with the two of you?’ Sirius asked when he noticed the look they shared. Lily started giggling and James sighed happily.

‘We’re thinking about getting married when school ends,’ he stated with a big smile. Lily looked lovingly at him when she had stopped giggling. Peter and Sirius looked absolutely stunned at the news and quickly hugged both of them, wishing them congratulations and asking them why so fast.

‘We just think that it’s the right time. With Voldemort on the rise we want to be able to celebrate it while we still can…’ Lily said and trailed off.

‘Wait, sorry Lils, but where is Remus?’ Peter interrupted. They all looked around the sparsely filled common room. Sirius smiled and nodded towards a couch. You and Remus were sitting, his arm around your shoulder and you leaning into him. You were both reading a book each and didn’t notice anything.

‘They’re so cute, are they dating?’ Lily asked.

‘Yes, but they don’t know it yet,’ James said making them all laugh and Lily roll her eyes with a smile.

----

‘They’re talking about us,’ you whispered behind you book to Remus. He grinned at your observation and looked at you.

‘I have a question,’ he started. You looked at him and closed your book with a finger on the page you had reached. You were afraid he was going to ask you something uncomfortable, but you reasoned that he couldn’t with that smile on his face.

‘Yea?’ you said, urging him to continue. He breathed in as if he was very nervous – which he probably was. And then he took your free hand in his and started.

‘Are we dating?’ it took you a moment to swallow the question, and when you had you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the question, making him giggle along with you although he didn’t understand why you were laughing.

‘I thought you were going to ask me something much, much worse!’ you exclaimed happily. He giggled nervously and you calmed down.

‘I mean, if you want to, then yes,’ you answered him. And he smiled. He smiled so wide. It made you smile incredibly wide too. He leaned down and kissed your forehead at which you slightly blushed.

‘Of course I want to,’ he whispered.

You could hear Lily and Sirius cheering somewhere behind you, but in that moment neither you or Remus cared.

[savedbybangtan]

Let Me Love You

Summary: She lucked out one too many times. Luckily, Jimin was there to ‘save’ her.

2,916 words

Warning tags: smut, dubcon, stalking, possessive, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), slight yandere?

                                         Let Me Love You

Food.

Water.

 Death.

 Three things immediately popped out in your mind that you begged for, that you needed.

These days, the pain in your body didn’t even allow you the few seconds to fantasize that you were in your parent’s home on a weekend morning where you did not have any work today. The pain was too great for you to ignore so that, as soon as you woke up, you were reminded of your grim premise.

You open your eyes, too tired and weak to be disgusted by the scent of yourself, vomit, and reliefs that were soaked into the naked mattress in the floor. There were two small windows on one wall, short and almost reaching the ceiling indicating that you were in a basement, but sunlight never shined through them. They were being blocked from the outside.

Footsteps could be heard on through the thin ceiling. It sounded as if he were entertaining guests with given the thumps of the music and feet.

If you called out right now, you may be able to alert one of the guests to help you out this situation.

You knew it wouldn’t make any sense. He would find you. Besides, your throat was too weak to make any sound above a hoarse whisper and the music was too loud.

Someone opens the door (the only entrance to the basement) that sat on top of a long staircase. Dim lights filtered in and you squinted at it, sensitive to the light.

The door is closed but you made out the silhouette before you were engulfed in darkness again.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m entertaining upstairs – so I can’t stay for long – but I really missed you and wanted to see you,” you heard the angelic voice apologise to you.

“…min…Ji-min…” you managed to hoarse out.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thirsty.”

“Already? I just gave you water and food two days ago,” he chuckled. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell he had that wicked glimmer in his eye that did not go with those rose powdered cheeks he sported by now.

He walked to a corner of the room, far from where your chain would allowed you to reach, if you were even able to walk. The light from the fridge illuminated his outfit. He wore a black turtleneck, black jeans and of course, black boots. When you had first met him at that bar, he wore the same colour palette. If you only knew.

He came back with a bottle of water that he poured slowly into your mouth as you drank in large gulps.

“What do you want to eat,” he asked sweetly – the same tone he used when he asked what you were drinking that night.

You hesitate to answer.

“I can promise you I will probably have anything you ask of me. I know all of your favourite foods and bought them.”

                                                            🌃

The blue and lime green lights darted manically about the bar. It was loud and filled with cigar, weed, cigarette, and hookah smoke. The scent, four gin and juices, and bottle of wine (that was finished before you even entered the club) had you feeling free. You didn’t want to think of your dumb boyfriend who broke up with you because of a few male friends you kept.

You didn’t want to think about your so called “friends” who had taken his side.

You definitely didn’t want to think about how you were fired, yet again, for rejecting the advances of yet another coworker. They tell you to report the matter to HR, but you believed in an eye for an eye. Someone who smacks someone’s ass should get smacked across their face – not relocated to another desk.

You danced crudely to the music, obviously drunk.

It wasn’t safe for a girl, wearing such a revealing and tight lavender dress to go out by herself. Especially not in this crowd.

Still, you needed to get lost in a crowd of people and let loose. You were sick of your parents breathing down your neck about moving out now that you finished college and secured another job. There was no way you were telling them how you were fired again. You needed to get out of the house.

The upbeat tune of Raising Hell by Ke$ha was exchanged for the smooth beat of BMO by Ari Lennox. You were too drunk for this song. You started to slowly grind your hips into the air, trying to mimic the moves of an exotic dancer.

A pair of soft hands grabbed you by the waist and danced against you, obviously having trouble trying to keep your nonexistent rhythm.

It was hot.

His hands were all over you. You glanced back and saw juicy lips that you suddenly wanted to kiss, but you were already short of breath. As if the final ounces of alcohol had finally ran through your bloodstream, the room swayed and it got dark.

“Shit,” you heard someone say. You couldn’t tell if it came from you or him.

You felt yourself being dragged away, too weak and too inebriated to care.

Before you could even reach an exit, you passed out.

You woke up and could tell you were in a moving vehicle. You saw the same stranger driving, but that “new car” scent put you back to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of keys jingling about, you noticed that this was not your house and that the man carrying you was that same stranger from the club. “Hey! Where are you taking me!” You slurred, fighting the urge to pass out once more.

You shouldn’t have estimated the power of that wine you drank in one sitting.

He flashes you a perfect smile that oozed excitement. “I’m taking you home, y/n.”

“This isn’t my…home.” You let the darkness engulf you as it was getting too hard to fight.

You were too drunk to question how he knew your name.

Minutes, hours, or days passed before you woke up in a crisp, white bedroom.

You spat some of your hair out of your mouth.

With a stretch, you take in your surroundings.

What happened last night? The last thing you truly remembered was chatting up the handsome bartender.

You scratched your head and that’s when you realise you were in nothing but a large tank top, obviously male.

Fuck!

Not again, you thought. You can’t believe you were in this situation again.

You spotted a bathroom through the open door and ran into it. There were no love marks on your skin. Your make up was removed pretty well and the clothes you wore last night were folded neatly on top of the counter, including your panties which you found a little embarrassing, imagining someone folding them.

You slowly brought your hand to your entrance, feeling for any kind of tenderness or fluids that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

If something did happen, at least they weren’t rough.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t want our first time to be like that.”

You removed your hand and spun to look at the owner of the voice.

Who the hell was this? You eyed him wearily.

Ignoring your glare, he spoke again, “I washed your clothes for you! They might be uncomfortable, so you can wear my shirt instead if you like.”

“Um, do you mind telling me who you are?” I couldn’t sense any danger from the angelically handsome silver haired man who spoke to you so innocently.

“Oh, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin. I’m 25 and I work as a police officer.”

“I meant, why am I here?”

“You fell out in the middle of the dance floor last night.”

“Why?”

He laughed again, turning his eyes into little upwards crescents. “I think that’s enough questions before we eat. I cooked breakfast. Its downstairs. Come down once you’re done in here.”

With that, he left.

Oh, he’s a police. That explained why he would bring me home. He felt the need to serve and protect. You were lucky this time, but this will have to be the last time you go out drinking alone. You quickly chucked off his tank top and got dressed in the same clothes as last night. You were indifferent to the walk of shame by now. Walking outside in club attire in broad daylight was bound to catch a few stares, but you didn’t care what people think.

You searched for your shoes and realized he probably had them downstairs.

By the time you gotten down and found the kitchen, he was just about to sit down.

“Look, I really want to thank you for saving me. Something really bad could have happened last night. I tend to have this self-destructive streak about me that I can’t quite shake off, but I promised myself this would be the last time I pass out from drinking.”

He smiled at your words. “That’s great. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are never that careless again. Please, have breakfast.”

“Oh no, you’re too kind. I’ve already bothered you enough.”

“Come on, now, Y/n. I’ve already cooked it. I don’t want to waste it.”

You shrug and sat. “Fine, if you insist.” You start to dig in immediately. It was amazing and settled your stomach. You could already feel the hangover nausea kicking in.

You horsebacked the rest of the hot tea and stood abruptly. “Thank you so much! That was really delicious. I hope one day I can repay your kindness.”

All of the joy in his eyes dissipated as you moved to leave, but you didn’t notice.

“Can you tell me where my shoes are?”

“How about you stay for a while longer?”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Are your parents waiting back for you?”

“No, I tend to not even come home most weekends and- wait,” you stopped, eyeing him suspiciously thinking it was weird that he assumed you lived with your parents although you were obviously an adult. “I’m a grown woman, you know. I may act like a teen, getting drunk like that, but I’m 21. I can do what I want.”

“And you were fired recently, meaning you don’t have anything better to do, right? Please, stay with me.”

Revelation.

Before you thought to wit your way out of danger, you stammer.

“How did you know I was fired from my job?” You started to slowly back away.

If you were not in the current predicament, you might have noticed how beautiful and genuine his smile was. “Oops, looks like I blew my cover! I guess I can drop the façade. I love you, y/n. I had for a while now, but I couldn’t talk to you because I know someone boring like me wouldn’t stand a chance.” His eyes furrowed in mock sorrow, but those plump, tempting lips pulled into smile. “If you’re good, I’ll let you stay in the house…I really do not intend to hurt you.”

He reached and arm out for you slowly, but you evaded his touch as if he was fire. “Let me out of here! You stalker!” You dashed to what you assumed to be the front door with the crooked cop trailing behind you slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n!”

You looked back for a moment as you grab frenetically for the door handle. He waltzed toward you with his hands in his pockets. He had on his uniform, the only thing missing was the hat and shirt.

Clammy hands finally got the door open and you charged through it without taking your eyes off the monster behind you. Even when you fell down the stairs, you did not turn your neck to see that the door you took so long to open was your personal gateway to hell.

Instead of seeing the bright lights of morning, you are greeted with darkness. When your eyes adjusted, you realised that it’s a basement.

“FUCK!!!” You screamed in agony clutching your broken leg.

Park Jimin tutted and cooed toward you. “See what you did to yourself? I told you that I don’t want to hurt you. Let me see…” He reached out for your leg but you pull away from him quickly, the action eliciting a groan from you. “Hey, I’m trying to help.”

“Then take me to a fucking hospital!”

“You probably don’t even need one. The fall wasn’t that high. It was about seven steps. I took a course in first aid.” His voice was something lethal. How was he so calm with you shouting at him? You gave him your leg.

Gently, in his crouched position, he rotated your leg, massaging it to assess where it had broken. “Shh, shhh, shhh, its okay,” he cooed at you mindlessly. With a deep gulp and wide eyes, he warned, “Suck in your breath…” You did as he said, in too much pain to argue. “It’ll take a sec…” He snapped your leg again with a grueling sound similar to a branch breaking from a tree during a hurricane.

You screamed.

And screamed,

And screamed,

And blacked out from pain.