#can’t explain it there’s a tenderness there that we shouldn’t be able to see somehow

[paulic]

there’s something unspeakable that happens to my heart when I look at Paul’s face in the right picture

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt 10

Sorry for the wait everyone! this last week has been crazy! I am working on the next part and hope to have it up in the next day or so and be back on track. 

For more parts click here! Part 11

Warnings: Talk about harming others, blood. That’s about it. This chapter is more just trying to get Y/N acquainted with the league. 

Word Count: 2.4 k

TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi​ @operatorsdime @drownedbytears​ @emilymikado​ @fluidfandoms​ @gotagan @mikasackrmann​ @flowersgirl02 @bohica160​ @andrastesbeard​ @riapxq @percabethismyotp14​ @celestiallustre​ @moon-spirit-yue​ @hecatve​ @bakugoshirp @vanillanjinn @toshiuwuu​ @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus​ @callmepopcorn​ @xxdumb-bitchxx​

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Villains are the most compassionate people in the world apparently. Well not all of them were, but this lot was.

No one had said anything when you puked all over the floor. Not one snide comment when you curled up onto the ground dry heaving. Toga had stepped forward almost immediately, quicker than even Dabi, pulling your hair back from your face, taking a hair tie front her wrist and tying it up. Dabi hadn’t even growled at her, instead dropping to your other side rubbing your back cooing softly in your ear that it was okay. That it was over. Twice stayed quiet for once so not to say something wrong, instead taking off to go find cleaning supplies to pick up the mess. Spinner just stood there awkwardly.

Even Shigaraki stayed quiet, choosing to take off down the hallway leaving you with everyone else, Kurogiri following after.

“Come on, let’s go get you something to drink.” Dabi and Toga helped you up to your feet, guiding you down the hallway and through a door to the main bar area, sitting you down on a couch against the wall. You were shaking at this point, your ears ringing.

Toga curled up on the couch with you, petting your hair, while Spinner took a seat on the floor a couple feet away from you. You could vaguely hear Dabi tell her to watch out for staples, and a quick retort from her saying there was none but you didn’t care.  How could you? Someone was dead, and their last moments were in agonizing pain because of you. Because you got upset... because they tried to hurt your alpha. 

Dabi came around the bar kneeling in front of you with two drinks in his hand, water and some kind of alcohol, it smelled like whiskey.

“You’re going to want it. Trust me.”

You nodded taking the whiskey from him shooting it to the best of your ability, trading the glass for the water. Dabi got up briefly coming back again this time with multiple drinks in hand, one for each of you before he settled onto the floor in front of you, rubbing your legs soothingly like he could massage away the last however many minutes from your mind, watching you with guilt in his eyes.

You couldn’t look at him.

Twice came in and joined you, hesitating before taking a seat next to Toga who was currently picking apart your hair strands that had blood in them still, you briefly thought that you really needed to shower again.

“That was badass. You’re such a “ You could see Twice covering his mouth with his hand, struggling to keep whatever he was about to say inside. He looked absolutely tortured with himself, trying to keep things in check. Toga immediately switched from picking at your hair to pulling his head against her shoulder, petting him softly.

“He’s right… Y/N. That was pretty cool of you.” You felt sick to your stomach again and shifted away from the duo further on the couch. Why were they even here right now? To make you feel worse? In your mind you knew you would have to get over this at some point. If you wanted Dabi this would be your new normal, you would have to… hurt people. It didn’t make it any easier.

And he just sat silent, rubbing your legs like that would help. Dabi knew you were in an internal war. He knew what you were feeling right now. He wouldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much for you. That he wasn’t worth it. That you rather be free, or even go back to that fucking house. Dabi downed his drink, refusing to think about that. Knowing that deep down inside he wouldn’t let you go back to that house even if that was what you wanted with everything in your soul. He was selfish. Letting you go was one thing, letting his father have you back was another.

You sat frozen on the couch, nursing your second drink already feeling the effects of the first one. It wasn’t numbing like you had hoped. It just made you want to cry more but you refused. You needed to prove to these villains that you were fine. That you could handle this. That they didn’t have to get rid of you just because you were a cry baby. You knew just because Dabi was your alpha, that didn’t mean they would let you stick around. They had to make sure they could trust you.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N…” Twice was looking at you seriously now, curled up in Toga’s grasp. There was no second voice to follow. No snarky remark.

“I’m fine.”

“God, I hope not. We don’t need another crazy person.” Toga lightly smacked his head at his words, a smile pulling at her lips.

“What? I’m serious! The last thing we need right now is another psycho like Overhaul. Remember how well that went?” You looked over at the duo with confusion as Twice defended his words, Toga telling him to hush up but he just looked back to you and continued.

“If you’re fine right now, then you are in shock, and if your fine and not in shock you really should be concerned. I don’t know anyone that didn’t freak out the first time... other than Toga maybe, but she’s special. She’s crazy!” Toga rolled her eyes, covering Twice’s mouth with her hand.

“I’ve been dealing with blood since I was born.” She explained, a ghost of a blush crossing her cheeks like she was embarrassed. “You can’t really freak out about hurting people when you have a quirk like mine. The first time I really hurt someone though, like really hurt them, it was an accident. I ran away so fast no one even knew what to do. The look on everyone else’s faces, especially my friends... They started screaming at me saying I was a vampire. They weren’t very cute anymore.”

“Try killing yourself, that’s really awful.” Twice mumbled against Toga’s hand and visibly shuddered like he was remembering something, Toga immediately going back to stroking his head gently like she could sooth the thoughts. Somehow the little blonde had a calming affect on the other beta, you wondered what their relationship was.

“I don’t understand.”

“We all remember our first time, princess. We all hated it. We all probably threw up just like you did, or drank ourselves stupid, or whatever other coping mechanism we came up with. None of us wanted to do this. It just sorta happened.” Dabi finally spoke, his eyes latched onto his empty glass, like he was remembering something he didn’t want to either.

“We aren’t changing the world so we can hurt people. We are hurting people to change the world.” Spinner was speaking now. His voice surprised you, having not heard it before. You knew that he was a Stain fanatic but you didn’t know much else about him.

Kurogiri had snuck into the room. He was standing behind Dabi just a few feet away, looking almost shameful and you jumped when you noticed him, once again surprised by his sudden appearance. You wondered if mist could blush. You wondered a lot about the Beta in front of you.

“I would like to apologize and offer my condolences, Ms. Y/N. It is my fault that Compress went into that room and any of this happened to begin with. I am gravely sorry that you had to get involved like that.” He bowed low, his hands clasped in front of him.

“It’s okay...” You didn’t really know what to say, especially to that. Everyone was being so kind to you, for once you could actually see them as people, people with more than just pure hatred and murder in their hearts, people that were more than the blood they spilled.

It was a couple minutes of silently drinking before anyone said anything again. 

“You know… maybe I shouldn’t say this cause of the tender moment… but Y/N, you really stink.” Twice leaned away from you like you were going to hit him, or maybe like he was trying not to breathe in your stench, pinching his nose.

“Oh thank god, someone other than me said it.” Toga immediately jumped up from the couch putting distance between the two of you while trying to hide a smile on her face of amusement as she covered her mouth and nose with her palm.

Your eyes shifted over to Dabi’s who looked like he was trying to also hide a laugh, his hands had left your legs as he leaned back using his arms to prop him up and you immediately found yourself missing the warmth and comfort of his touch.

“You do kind of reek…”

You scoffed in mock annoyance. Your own lips twitching up in weak smile. They were trying. These crazy people that barely knew you, were trying their best to make you feel better, and it was almost working.

“I guess I’ll go shower then... I need clothes though. Preferably something that fits.” You looked down at the baggy sweats that were barely hanging onto your hips and the hoodie that looked gross as all hell with everything on it, before looking back up at Dabi pointedly.

“But you look so good in mine.” You could hear the way his voice dropped into a low growl that went straight to your lower stomach. You could feel your cheeks heating up. How was he able to flip that switch in you so easily? He was just telling you that you smelled bad!

“Ew gross. If you guys fuck can I watch?” Twice was back to his antics again, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Please don’t. I sit on that couch. I have some clothes that might fit you Y/N!” Toga ran off out of the room and you weren’t sure if she just wanted to get away from the two of you or if she was actually going to look for clothes.

You stood up, looking down at Dabi, mumbling softly asking where to shower to which he responded by grabbing your hands, hoisting himself off the floor almost pulling you down in the process before dragging you out of the room behind him with barely a goodbye to the others.

“So is that a no?”

You followed Dabi back to his room, noticing the conjoined bathroom once you were inside. The whole building seemed to be set up like an old hotel, the bar being the main room, but it seemed like there was a couple other communal rooms as well. Maybe he would let you explore a little when you were done. Get to know the place that was going to be possibly your new home. It was weird to think about it like that. Would the two of you stay here or go back to his old apartment?

“I’m gonna go find Shigaraki and update him on the Shoto situation while you’re cleaning up. We need to get a plan in place before he shows up and tries to kill us all.” Dabi paused when there was a knock on the door, opening it to let Toga bounce into the room with a stack of clothes. Dabi wrinkled his nose at the scent of them, his lips almost settling into a pout when he realized you would smell like her. “I’ll be back. Please don’t go running around until I get back. We might have to work quickly to get everything set up…” He paused again looking at the clothes his alpha focusing on them. “We can go shopping later too… for your own clothes.”  

You nodded, taking the clothes from the petite blonde, smiling gratefully at her before she turned and flitted out of the room, smirking at Dabi as she passed. He slammed the door behind her much to her annoyance. Stinky little brat. Dabi loved her like a little sister but man was she annoying sometimes, her scent especially.

“Okay.” You shifted from foot to foot watching Dabi as he shifted his intense hooded gaze back to yours. You could feel the energy in the room change, your omega perking back up from her sleep now that the two of you were alone, attention piqued. You thought back to the way his lips had felt against yours no too long ago. He was thinking about it too.

“We might have to lay low for a while, find a different place to hide out just the two of us until things calm down.” Just the two of you? By yourselves? Hiding away? You could smell the excitement coming off of you at just the thoughts in your head.

“Don’t look at me like that,” His voice was low, gravelly, a warning as he held the doorknob loosely to keep himself grounded. To remind himself now was not the time.

“Like what?” Did you not realize what you were doing to him when you looked at him like that? Like you were an innocent little thing waiting to be corrupted. Surely you did. He could smell you from here, across the room. It was like a little slice of heaven. He wanted to make it his.

“Like you want to be fucked.” Dabi was delighted in the way that your cheeks turned red, your lips parting to suck in a breath of air in surprise at his words, at how you didn’t even protest. He wanted to bend you over his bed right now and… no… he wanted to take his time with his little mouse. He wanted to worship you, to show you just exactly how he felt with no distractions from the world outside. Just the two of you.

In order to do that he had to take care of some things first.

“Go shower.” He growled out before retreating from the room, shutting the door with a thud, leaning against it staring up at the florescent lights on the ceiling. He could still smell you out here, though it was very faint, the scent blockers throughout the building doing their jobs.

His alpha was screaming to go back in there and have his way with you, fuck the rest of the world, but his logical side reminded him that you guys didn’t have much time left before a horde of heros showed up to come rescue their damsel in distress. There was no way Endevor was going to let his little show dog’s omega get stolen.

Dabi took one deep inhale of your scent, adjusting himself in his pants before pushing off the door and forcing himself to go find Shigaraki. They needed a plan or else this was going to be a bloodbath.

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

Want to show your support? Buy me a coffee! 

[spacedikut]

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

[bxebxee]

What I have to say: This is really not what I typically write, but please allow me my self-indulgence. Also, I am rusty and unpracticed, but this made me happy to write. 

What this is: Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

What this wants to be: Romance

What this warrants: Rated R for Rotten Relationships (and other things) 

You hold your sister’s new baby reverently. The baby is so small, and you’re scared that your bad morals would somehow seep into the skin through contact diffusion. 

“I feel like I’m already the irresponsible aunt,” you whisper, shooting your sister a terrified look. The baby isn’t even sleeping, but what if your bellowing voice would upset him. “Are you sure-” 

“Yes,” she says firmly, “You’ll be a good godparent. There’s literally nothing to do except spoil your nephew every now and again.” She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Unless we die. Then I guess you’d have to be more of a parental figure...” 

You and your brother-in-law interject at the same time in a cacophony of protest. 

“Okay, we are not dying,” he sighs as your octave increases by a half-step, “Please do not say that as I hold your offspring in my arms. I can’t feel them by the way. Seokjin, can you take him? I don’t want to drop him.” 

Seokjin takes the baby, and you feel bereft of warmth. It’s a weird feeling to note that considering your firm No Babies Policy. You miss the baby already. This is witchcraft. 

“It’s just a fucking hypothetical, relax,” your sister laughs, her eyes softening considerably as she sees Seokjin coo over his son. 

“If our baby’s first word is ‘fuck’ I am not taking responsibility,” Seokjin says mildly, eyes never leaving his baby. You don’t really blame him. 

“And you’re not blaming me either. I’ve been good,” you say. 

“Oh please, everyone curses younger these days anyway. I’d rather my son know than not know, you know?”  

“You’re pushing it,” Seokjin warns. 

“You’re such a dad,” she scoffs. 

“And you like it,” he counters. 

“Yeah,” she admits. “Yeah, I do.” 

You check your phone for the time, and it’s thirty minutes before the official start of the baby gathering. Time for you to leave. 

“Hey, it was good to see you guys. And the baby,” you tell them, hugging both lightly so as not to disturb the tenderness of the moment. Bear hugs were for a different day. “I have to head out, but I’ll come visit a lot, okay? I’ll even babysit. For free.” 

“Not staying for lunch?” your sister asks, looking very sad and disappointed, but you steel your heart. The two of you have inherited your mother’s knack of guilt-inducing looks, and you’re not about to fall for it. 

“Not today, no.” 

Seokjin nods, bidding you to take care. He knows why you want to leave before the crowd gets too heavy. 

Unfortunately for you, cosmic luck was not on your side because as soon as the front door shuts behind you, the elevator dings and Yoongi steps out, clad head to toe in celebrity black and holding five Burberry shopping bags. There’s no one around, so you don’t particularly feel the need to stand on the niceties of greetings and choose instead to brush past him in favor of the elevator. 

“And hello to you too.” he remarks sarcastically. 

“Go to hell,” you reply, wishing that you didn’t have to be in a close fucking hallway because you could smell his cologne. 

“Oh come on-” 

You press on the close door button rapidly, and the doors shut out Yoongi with a soft, muted click. 

Twelve hours later, you get a text from an unknown number. Coward is all it said. You stare at your phone screen in bed, seeing typing bubbles start and stop and start and stop. Mister Unknown Number finally settles on silence because nothing follows after the one-word epithet. 

It feels like a dare. 

--

Yoongi finally puts his phone down. You were too smart and too self-respecting to try this all over again with him, and he wants to kick himself for ever thinking that goading you would work when you were clearly over him-

His phone vibrates intensely and consistently. You’re calling him. 

“Hello,” Yoongi says, picking up the phone after just a single ring. Desperate, to be sure, but he wasn’t positive you’d wait for five rings anyway. 

“You changed your number again,” you say without preamble. 

“I’ve actually had this number for two years now,” Yoongi says. “Been getting hacked less and less. Guess you never saved the number.” 

“Why would I?” you ask, petulance peppering every syllable of your words. 

“Why didn’t you stay for the luncheon?” he asks instead of answering your question. 

“And sit in a room with you for a couple of hours pretending everything’s normal? No thanks,” you scoff. “And luncheon? Really?”

“You missed out on the shrimp toast.” 

“I think I’ll live.” 

“So why’d you call?” 

You could take the easy way out. Save your pride and your face, and pretend that you still don’t carry a torch for Yoongi. You could lie and say you just wanted to call and make sure it really was him. But you were always a glutton for pain, and he was all too happy to oblige to your needs. 

“You wanna come over?” you offer, not feeling an ounce of trepidation that he’d reject you. Yoongi always came when you asked. 

“Where do you live?” 

“It’s the same place as last time.” It’s a test. Let’s see if he even remembers my address-

“Be there in thirty.” 

--

He’s late by a few minutes, but Yoongi explains through interrupted kisses and hasty undressing that there was traffic, and he showered- 

“You could have showered here, you know,” you mutter, pawing at his dick and biting down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Yoongi always like a little pain.

“I’ll shower here after.” (After he fucked you at least twice, minimum. After he got to see you naked and temporarily his. After he was somewhat satisfied but much too sweaty for sleep.) 

And then it’s No Talking Time for a short while because he has your face occupied with inhaling scant oxygen against the mattress while his own head was buried between your asscheeks and legs, lapping and sucking at you like he had something to prove. Could this count as some form of asphyxiation? Probably. You don’t expect his mouth to make you feel close to losing control. The act had always unnerved you, but you found yourself uncaring of past discomforts and losing yourself into the feeling of soft, insistent lips. 

Yoongi eats you out with soft grunts, hands holding your thighs apart and firm. Don’t move, his hands say. His tongue up your cunt isn’t any sort of giving on Yoongi’s part; this was all selfish. He wants you to cum and feel starstruck and ruined, wants you to get it through your head that your flesh craved his flesh in the same animalistic way he needed you. 

You turn your head around just enough to be able to get out, “You can sto-” 

But he silences you with a warning slap on the ass. You are not to be deterred. 

“Stop with the tongue,” you order. 

“You’re insane,” he hisses, pulling away and shamelessly licking his lips. “You can’t ever just let me-” 

“Put it in now,” you demand. 

Yoongi lets out a terse sigh. “I should just leave right now,” he grumbles, getting up on his knees to rub his dick against you and nudges the head on your opening. “I shouldn’t be here.” He presses inside at “here” and wrenches a moan from your lips. 

“Then leave,” you sigh, pressing your ass back against him, relishing in the feeling of being filled again by Yoongi. “Just go home and jerk off instead. That’s what you’re good at, right? Leaving me?” 

“You’re a bitch for bringing that up during sex,” Yoongi says, fucking into you steadily and slowly, resisting the urge to pound into you like his baser instincts demanded. He was going to enjoy you for as long as he wanted. He knew you wanted it rough and bordering on violent, but he wasn’t going to add more ammo to your already large arsenal of Reasons To Hate Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi leans over completely, letting his torso lay flush against your back, unbothered by your sweat as it mixed with his own. You were going to feel every last inch of him inside and out. He pumps in and out slowly, sucking on your neck and breathing into your hair with audible moans of enjoyment. 

“I’m not leaving,” he groans, reaching over to rub your lower stomach gently, as if comforting you. The intimacy of this wasn’t lost on you, but you can’t find the words to tell him off. You missed his heat and the familiar weight. You are only human, after all. 

Yoongi threads his fingers through your unkempt hair, stroking gently before balling his fists into a pronounced grip. He turns your head to the side and kisses you, your neck straining from the awkward, uncomfortable position. But it reminds you of the beginning - of the before times when things were easier in the shadows of his success and unavailability. 

It’s impossible not to feel things when he fucks you this way, and kisses you, and moans soft nothings into your ear like you’re the only woman he’s ever done this with. You are atrocious at protecting your heart, and even after two years of icing him out, Yoongi barges into you like it’s nothing. 

“Don’t stop,” you moan, heart thumping against your chest. You really, really can’t stand to want him so much. 

“I won’t,” Yoongi reassures, kissing the corner of your eye. He doesn’t speed up, and instead chooses to test the limits of your patience with languorous but firm strokes. “Not until you tell me to.” 

There was nothing that compared to this - not heated fucks with attractive strangers, or money, or getting crossfaded by the Han River. When Yoongi did this to you, you almost felt like he loved you. 

--

Yoongi sleeps silently besides you in the sunlight, completely worn out after an emotionally exhausting round of sex that made him cry when he came inside you. He’s usually sensitive to the light, but he’s out cold and completely drained. You hadn’t expected that part - the crying. You thought it was just sweat until you heard rattling breaths and a hiccup. 

You watch him breathe silently from your place in his arms, unwilling to leave the small cocoon of warmth. You’re the opposite of him, and right now, you’re wired. You’ll probably end up crashing sometime later in the day, but for right now, you’re content to just watch him sleep in your bed, on your pillows, smelling like your body wash. 

You’re too old to be scared, and yet this moment fills you with dread; that once the spell of sex and yearning was broken, everything would tilt back to its regular axis, and you’d be all alone again. If you were younger, you might have up and left already. Leave him before he leaves you. And it’s not like you haven’t done that before. Your entire relationship with Yoongi is always filled with one person leaving behind the other one because nothing about the two of you ever lined up properly. 

But this time, you’re too tired to run away. So you close your eyes and pretend to sleep until it finally comes to claim you. 

[alj4890]

Delicate

(Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Nevarkis) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crackship Series

A/N This is the finale to this miniseries. Thanks so much for indulging me in this crackship of mine. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did imagining it💗

@jooous​ ​ ​ @krsnlove​ ​ @nomadics-stuff​ ​   @twinkleallnight​ ​ @motorcitymademadame​ ​

Masterlist

Part 6

December 30th, Cordonia's Royal Palace...

Tomorrow night’s event might be the first ball in the history of Drake's years in Cordonia to actually cause a certain excitement. He usually put up with the pomp and traditions to simply be with those he cared about. For years it was to support Liam, then going meant he could hang out with Riley, Hana, and Maxwell.

And then there were his activities down in secret for a year with Olivia.

He knew she would be arriving soon. Her absence from Cordonia had been one he felt more acutely than any other. His failure in telling her how he felt about her, his inability to have a civil conversation, even his voicemail had kept him fixated on this date.

He intended for this new year to involve a new relationship with Olivia. He simply needed to find a moment alone with her.

Which as he entered the drawing room Riley and Liam used frequently for their closest friends, he realized that was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. All their friends had come home for the ball.

"I can't believe they gave us that ridiculous moniker." Thomas shook his head.

"The press isn't always known for their intelligence." Liam said, fighting a smile.

"Thomanda." Amanda laughed just saying it. "It sounds like some weird foot fungus cream."

"The press have had five years to come up with anything better than that." Thomas wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "They should have combined our last names. Brunt is more tolerable than Thomanda."

Maxwell rolled off the couch laughing. "We now have to come up with crazy couple names for all of us."

"We were given Riam." Riley replied. "Personally I prefer Liley, but Riam stuck."

"Naxwell or Madia." Amanda said between giggles while pointing at Maxwell and Nadia. "That's your couple name."

"Naxwell sounds like a snack cake or cookie." Riley added with a chuckle.

"We are sweet." Maxwell responded, cuddling Nadia close.

Hana sighed at seeing them all so happy together. "What would mine and Rashad's be?"

"Rashana?" Riley offered.

"Oh I like that so much better than what I thought." Amanda laughed. "I at first thought Hahad."

The group burst into laughter while more couple names were bandied about.

"So what do we dub Olivia and Ethan?" Liam asked.

"Ethalivia?" Hana offered.

"Olithan?" Maxwell added.

"Oooh! Olithan!" Riley exclaimed. "Sounds like a sea monster. Olivia will love it!"

Drake tried to ignore what was being said as he joined them.

Maxwell noticed his frown and immediately changed the subject.

"Hey," he said over the lingering chuckles. "What's everyone's resolutions going to be?"

"Get married." Rashad grinned at Hana.

"That's your plans for next week." Maxwell winked at them. "What are you going to resolve to do this new year?"

"Spend time with my husband." Hana replied with a slight blush.

"I think more time with our significant others is what we will all resolve to do." Liam added.

Drake bit back a bitter retort. At least they knew they would have their significant others. He was praying for a chance to talk to his.

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

Olivia stood in front of the mirror one last time to check her reflection. It was strange to see the same old features once more in the all too familiar guest room when she felt so changed. Stepping off the plane and seeing Cordonia's capital didn't affect her like it once did. Somewhere, somehow, she had moved on past the pride of her title and country.

She still loved her home, but she now knew she was capable of so much more than merely being the Duchess of Lythikos. She wondered if the changes would be visible to anyone else. If no one noticed it, she at least had proved it to herself.

Her gaze left her reflection to focus on Ethan finishing dressing. Her lips curved at the red shirt he had pulled on with his black slacks.

She wondered if he knew he had chosen to wear her house colors.

He glanced up and noticed her staring.

"Is this the wrong thing to wear to dinner tonight?" He asked.

"No." She walked over to him.

Ethan paused in buttoning his shirt when she looped her arms around his neck.

"What made you choose this shirt?" She asked, threading her fingers in his hair.

His lips curved as they brushed her cheek. "Thomas told me about ways we men can show our support for our noble ladies." He tugged her closer. "I thought I should start out as I intend to for my fiancée."

Olivia cupped his cheek with her left hand, her eyes darting toward the sparkling proof that she was marrying the man that held her. Their lips met in a tender kiss that made her want to forget about joining anyone else and simply stay here alone with him.

"Shouldn't we hurry?" Ethan asked when she began to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

His hands moved along her back, searching for her zipper.

"We should." She pressed another kiss to his lips before easing back.

Her smile was warm as she admired him. "Red is a good color on you."

"As long as you approve." He finished buttoning his shirt.

Olivia handed him his tie he had set out earlier.

He looped it around her waist and used it to pull her close.

"Doctor?" She chided. "You have a king and queen waiting to welcome you."

"I think you know who I think deserves my attention." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Are we telling everyone tonight?"

"About our engagement?" Olivia asked.

Ethan nodded. "I want you to have all the excitement and whatever they do here to celebrate when a duchess gets engaged."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need a ball, Ethan."

Her heart softened once more when he whispered he wanted to give her everything she deserved.

"We can tell them," her breath hitched when she felt his mouth against that special spot under her ear, "if you want to."

"I want to." He muttered against her skin. "I want everyone to know we are together." He lifted his head and smiled at her. "I want them to see how proud I am that you chose me to marry."

"Ethan." Her frown firmed. "Don't you dare make me emotional right now when I'm about to see everyone."

He chuckled as he let her go. "Very well, duchess. I'll behave."

She hmphed while returning to the mirror to retouch her lipstick.

Once they were both deemed presentable, they left their chambers and gathered Naveen to take downstairs.

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

While the buzz of conversations filled the room, Drake escaped to the wet bar.

"Would you mind pouring me a glass of the Pinot Noir?" Regina asked, joining him.

"Yes mam."

She cleared her throat. "Sir Drake, I--"

"Just Drake, mam." He reminded her.

She smiled at his insistence she not use any honorific. "Drake, is something wrong?"

He handed her a wine glass. "No mam." He poured the wine for her. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem a touch distracted."

"I do?"

She chuckled. "Yes. Usually by this time you would have called a halt to all the talk of weddings and romantic, as you call it, nonsense."

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "I guess I've been tuning them out tonight."

"I see." She patted his arm. "I'll leave you to your thoughts then."

He straightened up when Olivia stepped into the room, flanked by Ethan and the other doctor Drake had yet to meet.

The older of the two men had a friendly smile on his face that disappeared when he saw Regina.

"Gin?" Delight flooded his surprised facial expression. "Is it really you?"

Everyone looked back and forth between the Queen Mother and Naveen.

"Did he just call Regina, Gin?" Riley whispered.

"I've never heard anyone call her that." Liam whispered back.

Regina had her hand pressed to her heart. "Naveen! You're the Dr. Banerji Lady Olivia talked about?!"

Naveen met her in the middle of the room, his hands taking hers.

"What is going on?" Olivia whispered.

"I haven't got a clue." Ethan whispered back. "Naveen did a fellowship here when he was fresh out of medical school. Maybe, the two met during that time."

"It seems they did more than meet." Olivia pointed out.

"After all these years," Naveen said, "You are still just as beautiful as when we met."

Regina's blush and almost girlish laughter made everyone eager to hear more.

"We both know that is not true." Regina replied with an elegant wave of dismissal.

Naveen's smile grew when he felt her squeeze his hand.

Remembering their audience, the two let go of one another.

"You two know each other?" Riley asked, loving their flustered states.

"We met when I first came to Cordonia." Naveen explained. His gaze softened on the Queen Mother. "I didn't know my way around and had gotten horribly lost when a lovely young woman pulled up in a convertible and took pity on me."

"In a convertible, huh?" Maxwell was already imagining a young Regina with her blonde hair blowing in the breeze as she pulled over to help a young, handsome doctor. "Then what happened?"

Regina's blush grew. "I offered to drive him back to the house he had rented and one thing led to another and we--"

"I begged her to be my tour guide during my stay." Naveen explained to keep her from having to reveal too much. "It ended up being the best summer of my life."

She shook her head while smiling. "It was the last time I was ever able to be free to do and act as I wanted."

"What happened, mam, that changed all that?" Hana asked. "

"My first official social season began that fall. Adelaide was being courted by Godfrey and my parents insisted I do all I could to put our family in the best light possible so that an arrangement could be made between the two." A brief sadness passed over her. "Once that started, I was sent from one house party to the next then began a tour through Europe on diplomatic endeavors. Before I knew it, two years had gone by and Naveen had left Cordonia by the time I returned."

The older doctor grimaced. "I had been accepted to Edenbrook and was unable to find Gin to tell her."

Ethan quietly studied Naveen, wondering if this was why his mentor had never married.

"Well, now you two can catch up," Nadia encouraged. "Without worry of having to part."

Regina didn't bother to hide her happiness at that thought. "I would love that."

"So would I." Naveen added.

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

Once all the introductions were made, the group fell into smaller ones to talk.

Keeping mostly to himself on the other side of the room, Drake couldn't take his eyes off Olivia. She seemed so different than the last time she had been in Cordonia. Not just in appearance, but there was something else there he couldn't quite identify.

She had left her hair down in loose curls. He couldn't recall when he had seen her do that here. He had once heard her say that her hair down could be used against her if an enemy were to attack.

She must have lost that worry.

Olivia almost appeared more approachable. Her smirk didn't hold the same bite it used to. She listened without too much sarcasm to the conversations going on around her.

She looks soft.

Drake took another gulp of his drink. Where had that thought come from? Olivia Nevarkis was many things, but soft? Impossible.

He noticed that Ethan remained close to her. The little touches going on between them irritated Drake. Ethan would occasionally touch her back when turning to say something to her. Olivia would respond in kind. He would brush a lock of hair over her shoulder. She would place her hand on his arm when pointing out something.

All innocent, yet all given with hidden meanings.

The smiles they shared. The heated glances. The--

A sparkle on Olivia's hand caught his attention.

No, it can't be--

"I have an announcement." Olivia raised her voice. "I wanted you all to be the first ones to know."

Drake felt his insides go numb as if his body knew the pain that was about to happen and wanted to try and spare him.

"Ethan asked me to marry him." Olivia looked up at her doctor. Her smile, so unlike any in Cordonia had seen, was tender and full of affection. "And I said, yes."

Everyone spoke at once their delight and rushed to hug and congratulate the couple.

All that is except Drake.

His empty glass slipped through his fingers and thudded softly on the floor.

Did she listen to my message? Did she decide to not give me a chance to apologize in person? Why would she choose him without first seeing what we could have?

Maxwell slipped away from the laughter and teasing of Team Olithan. Swiping up his friend's glass, he placed an arm along Drake's shoulders and led him back to the bar.

"She didn't give me a chance." He muttered to Maxwell. "I told her I wanted to try and she instead picks that doctor. She didn't bother to even say she didn't want me."

Maxwell poured him a strong one and handed it off. "I know." He sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Drake."

Drake downed the contents, poured another, then after it was gone he drank one more that was filled to the brim. "Don't be." He slammed the empty glass down. "If you have to feel sorry for anyone, feel it for Ramsey." He jerked his chin toward the couple. "He's the one stuck with her."

"Drake, I think you should still try to talk--"

"No thanks." Drake snapped. "What’s left to say?" He shrugged. "I dodged a bullet."

Maxwell gave up arguing. He didn't know what to do as Drake became angrier.

"Better go give my congratulations." He grumbled while making his way across the room.

"We'll announce your engagement at the ball." Liam told the couple. He pressed a kiss to Olivia's cheek and shook Ethan's hand. "May you both find the same happiness I found with Riley."

"I need details!" Riley exclaimed "When and where did this happen? How did you propose?"

Olivia chuckled. "Ethan asked me at his father's home when we went to spend Christmas there."

"How sweet!" Hana exclaimed. "We can start planning your wedding while we are all together."

Olivia's friends began to talk over one another to give possible opinions of wedding venues and dates for the ceremony.

Only Ethan noticed the tension forming in Olivia's body. He soon saw the reason for it approaching.

"Congratulations." Drake said.

"Thank you." Ethan answered when Olivia instinctively stepped closer to his side. "I'm still surprised she said yes." He smiled down at her.

"You shouldn't be." Olivia told him.

"Liv's right, Ramsey. You shouldn't be surprised. Give yourself another day or two and you'll see why." Drake drawled. "The only thing nobles aspire to around here is marriage."

"Drake." Liam admonished.

"What? Isn't that all that was thumped into your heads as children? Even Hana admitted to being trained from a little girl on up on how to catch a husband." He continued.

Hana's cheeks burned as she averted her eyes from everyone.

"Of course, Olivia wasn't so fortunate when it came to knowing how to catch a husband, was she?" Drake smirked at her. "Her mother died before she could begin the training. Guess it was a good thing she went ahead and married you off to a terrorist, huh?"

"That's enough." Ethan warned. "You're intoxicated and should go to your room and sleep it off."

"Is that your medical opinion, Doc?" Drake narrowed his eyes at him. "Or is it you're worried I'll say something to embarrass you and your --"

"Excuse us." Olivia wrapped her fingers around Drake's arm, making sure to dig her nails into the tender flesh under his arm. "Walker and I need to clear something up."

She yanked him towards a door that led out into a small courtyard.

He wrenched his arm from her once they reached a nearby fountain.

"What in the hell was that?" She snapped.

"What?" He taunted when she merely glared at him. "Couldn't take the truth, Libby? Or are you worried that your doc can't?"

"In there," she hissed, "is the man who actually defended you to me after our last fight."

"Did he?" Drake folded his arms. "How endearing."

"Ethan is the man I want." She stated. "Whether you can accept that or not is your problem. It is not going to be mine!" Her narrowed eyes held his own. "I personally don't know if you and I can be friends after everything that has happened. I was going to try and at least be pleasant around you, but your little act in there has made it impossible."

"Who cares?" He muttered. "You didn't care about how I would feel after I ripped my heart out and laid it at your feet just so that you could waltz back home with your new love."

"You already knew my choice!" She shouted. "You saw how much he meant to me in Boston. I told you there was nothing between me and you and yet you stand here and show the world once again what a jackass you are." Her breathing was accelerated as she tried to calm down. "This is why you and I never had a chance. There's too much resentment from years of the two of us fighting."

"There wouldn't be if you had given me a chance." He told her. "Some time to try and be what you wanted. Instead you accept the first marriage proposal you ever got."

"I ACCEPTED BECAUSE I AM IN LOVE WITH ETHAN!" She raised a trembling hand to her head, completely frustrated with his refusal to give up. "He makes me feel a way I never thought possible."

"I don't want to hear about your sex life." Drake snapped.

"I'm not talking about that!" She shoved Drake away from her. "I'm talking about how he makes me feel as if I am the most important person in the world. He actually respects me. Cares about my opinions--"

"Clearly a glutton for punishment." Drake drily remarked.

Olivia gave up trying to explain. Using moves she hadn't had to in her months away, she swept Drake's legs out from under him, sending him tumbling backwards into the water fountain.

His head shot up, coughing and sputtering water out of his mouth and nose. "What the hell was that?!"

"That is the end of this discussion." She stated in a monotone voice. "I'm marrying Ethan. I'm going to have my own happily ever after. I expect you to keep your distance from now on. We might share the same group of friends, but you and I are nothing." Her green eyes flashed a warning. "We aren't friends, acquaintances, or even enemies." She stepped away from him. "Because I respect my enemies, but you, I can't even find the energy to be disgusted with you right now."

"Olivia, wait--" he tried to get out of the fountain and chase after her. "I--"

She walked back inside and quietly shut the door, as if he hadn't been speaking at all.

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

The next few months flew by. Hana and Rashad's wedding was deemed the perfect way to start a new year. Cordonia's research hospital had it's ribbon cutting ceremony a week later with both the press and nobles exclaiming over the state of the art facility. Under Naveen, Ethan, and Olivia's management, patients were being treated by some of the best physicians from around the world.

Word soon spread and numerous medical journals did pieces on the findings and styles of treatments given there. In every interview, Ethan gave Olivia the credit for everything that they were accomplishing, reminding the world that it had been her idea in the first place to create such a hospital.

She didn't think she could love him more than she already did until he did that, once more helping heal her Nevarkis reputation. It had been a long time since she had wished for a knight in shining armor to come along and fight for her, and here he was, fighting along the battlefields of the press that she had always felt at a loss over.

While Olivia balanced her duchess duties and those at the hospital, she planned her wedding. Ethan, no matter how exhausted he was, would stay up late giving his opinion on the party size and location. The two became even closer to one another as they discussed their life together, the possibility of children, and the roles they were playing in both the medical society and the nobility.

They decided on an intimate ceremony in one of Lythikos's oldest chapels. Liam was to conduct it, with Olivia requesting Amanda as her matron of honor and a very pregnant Riley and Hana as bridesmaids. The two mothers' to be cried together over the sweetness of it all from the moment they were asked until Ethan kissed his bride.

Ethan asked Naveen to be his best man and Thomas as a groomsman. He and the director had only grown closer in friendship as the ladies they were committed to spent so much time together. Thomas was helping him learn how to balance his future duties of Duke of Lythikos along with his chosen career. He reassured him that he could indeed have it all and be content.

Needing one more groomsman, Ethan left that choice to Olivia. Maxwell volunteered, to help take the pressure off of her, and was soon fitted for a new tux.

Drake never received an invitation.

He had tried to apologize. He even cornered her before she left the palace for Lythikos and managed to sound sincere, but it was no use. She was done with having him in her life. There was no anger. No sadness. Nothing. Just like she had told him.

He knew it was his own fault. All of it was. Somehow he had ruined what could have ended up being the best thing in his life. Seeing how Olivia was in love and knowing it could have been him on the receiving end, it hurt worse than any insult she could ever give.

He should be happy he wasn't invited to the ceremony. It was a mercy, whether she meant it as such or not. Seeing her dressed as a bride and saying her vows to another man would have been beyond his ability to calmly accept.

So he did what anyone would do the day of their love's wedding to another.

He left Cordonia for America.

Drake decided he would stay away for an indefinite period of time. Liam had Riley by his side so he wouldn't feel guilty over abandoning him. All of their friends were happily settled with their significant others. He was finally free to see what his life could be without nobles and putting Liam first.

A few years went by. During this time, babies were born. Drake had sent handmade rocking horses to Hana and Riley when he received the news of their sons' births. He next was picking wedding gifts for Maxwell and Nadia and then, to his great shock, one to Regina and Naveen. More babies were born, including word of Olivia and Ethan having a daughter.

That text from Maxwell had left him feeling a loss be hadn't thought of.

Drake decided to test the waters and start dating again. He thought this would be a chance to see what he really wanted from a potential spouse. Nothing too serious ever came from these attempts, but they did help slowly ease his heartache.

He would get the occasional visit from those he had left back in Cordonia. Phone calls and texts were a normal, everyday occurrence. Then one day, Savannah found out she was pregnant again and asked him to come for a nice long visit to Ramsford.

The moment he stepped off the plane and caught the hint of apple blossoms in the air, he knew this would always be home. He closed his eyes and simply let the feeling wash over him that this was where he was meant to be, where he was always meant to be.

He decided to stop and see Liam and Riley on his way to Ramsford. The couple were with their children at Valtoria along with some of their other friends.

Including Olivia and Ethan.

When Drake stepped out of the car, he could hear the laughter and squeals of young children playing out back. He went down a gravel path lined with lilies, only stopping at the sight before him.

Children, five years old and under, were chasing each other all over an area that would put most playgrounds to shame. Slides, climbing walls, bridges, jungle gyms, everything a child could want covered two acres of land.

He was able to identify most of the children without much thought. He had received tons of pictures through Christmas cards and texts, but he didn't need them to know who belonged to whom.

Liam's two sons with their golden hair shining in the sunlight were easily picked out. The little princes were soon joined by a boy that could only belong to Hana.

He then noticed two little girls that looked exactly like their mothers once had so many years ago. The dark haired one was clearly Thomas and Amanda's. And just like her mother had done at her age, the little girl was playing with another who had the richest set of red hair Drake had ever seen.

The three year old looked like she had been fashioned in Olivia's very image. Even her green eyes could narrow in an all too familiar irritation when the boys' rough housing got too close to where she was playing.

And just like her mother, her smile blossomed when she saw her father walking over.

Ethan leaned down to pick her up. His own smile was bright as he spoke to his daughter.

Whatever was said had the little girl eagerly nodding her agreement.

"Drake?"

He turned to see Olivia staring at him in surprise.

"Hey, Liv." He greeted.

"What are you doing here?"

"Savannah asked me to come for a visit." He explained.

"Ah." She placed her hand on her baby bump when another kick happened. "How have you been?"

"Good." He motioned toward her belly. "Boy or girl?"

"We don't know." She smiled down at her stomach. "Just like with Erin, Ethan and I decided we want to be surprised."

"Congratulations." He said sincerely. "I know you always wanted a family." He looked back toward where her little girl was. "Looks like you and Ethan know what you're doing."

"I think we do." She finally smiled at him.

"I'm happy for you." He managed to say and realized that it was true. If he couldn't be the one she ended up with, at least she had gotten what she wanted most out of life.

"Thank you." She stepped around him and continued toward the play area.

Ethan had been watching for her and began to make his way over to help her down the slope safely. She paused, knowing he would only worry if she tried to go down it on her own.

"Drake?"

"Yes, Olivia?"

"It's good to see you again." She smiled once more at him then went on and took her husband's arm.

Drake watched as Ethan tenderly brushed a kiss to her temple. The two laughed at their daughter having had enough of the boys' antics and chasing after them to give them a piece of of her mind.

As he stood there alone, he realized that though there was a faint echo of what could have been, he was finally able to watch them without it hurting.

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: Even slower than normal, sorry! There’s a lot going on in my world and it turns out it’s rather exhausting to be evil. All the same warnings apply: major character death, guns, blood, violence, suicide, etc. This train is only moving in one direction (straight to hell). ~2.8k

The nightmare continues.

That night he called Emily. It hadn’t been planned. In fact he had been hoping to have someone else call her, fill her in on the tragedy. That way he knew she would get the truth and not the distorted reflection of facts bounced around by his mind. But when he woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard after yet another repetition of the nightmare, he decided he needed to call Emily. She needed to know and and he needed to hear her voice. Maybe her familiar words could chase away some of these ghosts. The coffins were getting closer all the time and he was almost certain he saw someone pushing them in his direction.

It was 3 am and he had barely slept at all. He went to the kitchen for water and checked on Jack before sitting back down to call her. He pulled his knees into his chest like an overgrown child and waited for her to pick up. She was grouchy even though it wasn’t all that early for her. She was always unreasonable at what he considered very reasonable times of day. When she saw his name flash across the screen, she wasn’t worried about the timing because she knew he didn’t sleep well. She had stopped trying to keep track of when he should be asleep years ago, the math making her dizzy with how small the number of hours he’d reliably rest seemed to be.

“What do you want now Hotchner?”

It was a game they played with one another. A false severity, all business. Seeing who would crack first. They both missed each other badly, each having been the other’s anchor through so much, but they tried not to say it. It only hurt more.

He felt bad that he couldn’t warn her this wasn’t a normal call, that there was no play in the gravity of his voice. He held his breath while he decided what to say first.

“Aaron?” Her tone immediately took on an edge. Damn her, she was so attuned to him, even four thousand miles away, she knew something was wrong without him breathing a word.

“Spencer is…Spencer died,” he managed to stutter out.

She didn’t become frantic, a quality he had always appreciated about his closest friend. She was quiet for a moment before prompting him. “How?”

He shook his head, it still didn’t make sense to him. He had brought home the report, hoping that the clearly typed details, the stomach-turning photographs, could convince him. That their fixed structures might settle his mind.

“We’re not sure. He just…they found him in the river. It looks like he jumped sometime early Sunday.”

She was silent. Of all the possible responses, that was not one she would have guessed.

“And…” he trailed off, not sure if he could tell her about the phone call. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He selfishly kept Spencer’s phone with him, checking it every couple hours to see if anything had changed, if his memory was betraying him, again. No one had questioned him about it.

“Did he leave a note?” Leave it to Emily to be practical. They were all so dazed, reliving the last days, weeks, trying to remember something that they overlooked. Surely they wouldn’t have missed something so large.

“No, not that we’ve found.”

“Well,” her seriousness now very real, “there could be another explanation then.”

“Em…” He was already weary of this conversation started with JJ. He didn’t think he could expend any energy trying to convince Emily as well. Not when so much of his effort needed to go into making sure he was on the right page, the right date, the right series of events.

“Think about it.” She was blunt. “Reid would never go without an explanation. He couldn’t. He can’t keep his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be possible for him to just leave everyone without some kind of goodbye.”

He waited, not contradicting her. It made sense, what she was saying. But he didn’t know if it was only because he didn’t want to believe the alternative. He also didn’t know what that would mean. If Spencer hadn’t taken his own life, who had?

“Well, we are still waiting on a full investigation. Either way, we’ve lost him.”

“Will you be handling the investigation?” she asked.

“No, not this time,” he replied. He had already bent the rules too many times, both recently and over the entirety of his career. There was no urgency to this, no immediate threat, no one to save. What had happened was over, the pain was irreversible. There was no reason it had to be them formally digging into the details of Spencer’s last days.

“I’ll be on a plane this afternoon. There’s a few things I need to take care of but I can be there by tomorrow.”

“Emily, that’s not necessary.”

“Like hell it’s not. Aaron Hotchner you are not going to deal with this alone.”

“Thank you, Em,” his response was quiet, fearful even. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the slithering doubts in his mind from her, not if she was there beside him. The things he had worked so hard to hide from the others would be exposed once she got ahold of him. He just hoped she knew how to rebuild as well as she knew how to burn it all down.

*

The next day they gathered in the round table room. Everyone was on edge, clearly having gotten little sleep. Hotch told them they could take time off if they need. He’d informed the director that they were unavailable for the next week at least, there was nothing urgent for them to do. He wasn’t going to force them one way or another, he knew they all had different ways of coping. They filtered out of the room aimlessly with glazed expressions. Hotch ducked his head and returned to his office.

About an hour later he looked up from his papers to see Morgan leaning on the doorframe. He gestured an invitation to the chairs opposite his desk. Derek sat heavily, pulling at his collar like it was too tight.

“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, they both knew it.

Morgan shook his head, restless. “I just don’t get it Hotch. Why wouldn’t he come to us? Why wouldn’t he say something to me?”

Hotch looked at Morgan sadly, noting the sense of betrayal in his features. “We can’t know what was going through his mind Derek. No matter how much we know a person, we still can only see what they let us see.”

He met Hotch’s eyes, confusion plain. “He told me everything. He—“ Morgan stopped, obviously fighting back emotion. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hotch nodded, “I know, I’m not sure it ever does. But the police are looking into it, we’ll have their report soon and then we can figure out next steps from there.”

“We should be doing that,” Morgan’s voice gained more of its usual strength, spurred on by the thought of strangers pawing through Spencer’s things.

“No,” Hotch’s voice was firm, “we all need time to process this. None of us can be objective, no matter how much we wish we could.”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Morgan sounded helpless.

“I know, but it’s the right thing. He would want the truth, this is the best way to get it.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped, he was too drained to fight with Hotch really.

“Why don’t you go home? There’s no reason you have to be here, no reason any of us has to be here. It might help to get away from all this,” Hotch waved his hand vaguely towards the bullpen, still full of people who hadn’t just had the earth shift sickeningly beneath them.

Morgan didn’t respond right away and when he did look up, there were tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I know he didn’t do this.”

Hotch just nodded sympathetically. He didn’t think Spencer did this either but he didn’t know how to explain that just yet.

“Go home, Derek.” He said it gently but it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand and exhaled loudly as he stood up. He nodded tightly to Hotch before leaving the office. Ten minutes later, Hotch watched him heading down the stairs and through the busy office, people discreetly stepping out of the path of such obvious heartache.

*

The following day was more of the same, the end of Reid’s life an immovable checkpoint in time. JJ stopped by his office on her way in, asked him how Jack was doing. She didn’t ask how Hotch was, she knew any answer she got to that would be a meaningless fabrication. Hotch looked a little guilty upon hearing the question.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What? Hotch, you have to tell him.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know what to tell him.” Hotch leaned back in his chair, looking at the pen he held. “He’s going to ask questions that I don’t have the answers to.” They all do. Somehow he has fooled them into thinking he was someone with answers, someone who fixed things. They would be terrified to find out wrong they were.

“He’s not a little kid anymore, he’ll be more hurt if you lie to him.”

“It’s not lying, and I believe I know what’s best for my son.” He was angry for a brief moment, all the stress of what happened had worn down his normally tight control. He immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, could see how JJ had shrunk back a little. She was only trying to help. She was in the same pain as him, the loss echoing through their lives, tearing at tender scars that never healed fully. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She waved him off though the words still stung. “Have you talked to Morgan? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“No, he’s taking some time. I don’t expect he’ll be in for a few days at least.”

She hummed, pleased at least one of them was able to step away. “I’ll check on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“That would be great, thank you.” He hoped she knew the depth behind those two words but they never seemed to carry the weight they should. JJ was always doing things to take care of the team, picking up pieces no one else noticed had fallen.

*

Morgan was not answering his phone. The first missed call didn’t bother her. He was probably doing something, maybe he’d gone for a run. The second missed call felt a little unusual. They were all so attached to their phones, always waiting for the next case to come in. It was unlikely that he was without it. Maybe he had turned his ringer off, ensuring that he had the space he needed. The third time she called without answer she had reached a state of full blown worry. Morgan was reasonable, he was thoughtful, he wouldn’t just disappear on them. And yet, he and Reid had been so close, always flirting and bickering, Spencer’s usual rules about personal space melting whenever it was Derek crossing the line. He wasn’t thinking clearly just now. She tried but couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t. But she needed to see him, to confirm his wellbeing. She decided to stop by his place on her way home. She could bring him some dinner. She doubted he was up to cooking for himself.

After picking up his usual order from the burger place near work, JJ drove to Morgan’s house. She still hadn’t had any luck reaching him on the phone. Her heart was racing and it felt like the air had suddenly become heavy, requiring incredible strength to drag into her lungs. He didn’t answer the door either.

She slipped through the side yard, searching for another way in. She pounded on the door and called his name. It came out sounding like a sob. Leaning her forehead against the door, she told herself to calm down, to think logically. She almost laughed when the thought of kicking in the door crossed her mind—picturing Morgan swiftly getting them through all manner of locked entries. She knew she wouldn’t make a dent in this door. Morgan took too much care in the details of the homes he lived in. The door was solid. She’d need another way in.

She paced in the yard, wishing she had a key, wishing Derek would just answer his stupid phone and she could calm her anxiety and head home. She glared at the door, so stubbornly closed, keeping her out specifically. She wondered if he had a spare key and was about to call Penelope to ask when she spotted it. One of the windows was cracked open.

A key would be easier but she could work with a window. She was too impatient to put an end to her worry so she stepped through the bushes that lined the perimeter of the house. She was able to pop the screen of with a little effort, then slid the window all the way open before pulling herself up and through. She ended up on the kitchen counter and dropped down to the tiles. Her palms were covered in a layer of grime and she brushed them against each other to get it off. Breathing a little hard from the effort, adrenaline ran high and made her overly sensitive to the quiet permeating the house. She wanted to call out for him but something stopped her.

She crossed through the kitchen and froze when she reached the doorway to the living room. At first she couldn’t process what she was seeing, random details refusing to connect in any kind of discernible order. There was a smell, so familiar but so out of place here, a home she’d brought her children to and laughed over too many glasses of wine in. The bitter metallic scent clawed its way into her sinuses, making her eyes water. It was dark and the shape on the floor was so crumpled it could have been a pile of blankets. It could have been if it weren’t for the even darker pool surrounding it, dragging the light inwards, velvety in its lack of reflection. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the pressure against her lips. There was a scream lost somewhere inside her, winding its way up as the tumblers fell into place, unlocking the meaning of what she saw.

“Derek, no!” The words barely made a sound. She moved closer, willing this to be a mistake, a trick of the light, there had to be some other meaning to this scene. But there wasn’t. She got close enough to look right into his unseeing eyes, still fixed on the ceiling beams, the thing he stared at as his life spilled out and pooled around him. Automatically her fingers fumbled for his pulse, one final hope to contradict the reality of the too obvious bullet hole. She kept looking into his eyes, trying to avoid seeing the damage that had altered everything else about his face. Nothing. She backed up, stumbling against the table behind her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, couldn’t even fully understand what was happening. Derek Morgan, the strongest, bravest person she knew would never be in this position, laid out with a gun in his hand, no fight left in his body. The voice in her head tried to whisper its triumph; I told you so wrapping itself happily around her shock.

“No,” she said aloud. “No.” As if that tiny syllable could have any effect on the on the matter. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hands shaking. She called the only person she could think to call, the only person who might be able to fix this.

“JJ?” Hotch was concerned when he picked up to silence. It was unnerving, too similar to Spencer’s mute call days before.

All she could do was breathe and hope the words would come to her soon.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” Silence. “Say something Jennifer!” The rise in his voice made a shiver run through her, just enough movement to get her vocal cords working.

“He’s dead,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Hotch didn’t say anything immediately. He couldn’t, the memory of Morgan’s blood on his hands, on his face overwhelmed him. He was filled with horror by the knowledge that he had done this.

She repeated herself, louder this time.

“I’m on my way. Call 911.”

He was already halfway out the door, not realizing he hadn’t asked if she was safe before hanging up.

~Park 3~

[saigonharrington]

boyfriend pt.2 //g.w

Hey guys! Everyday there’s more and more of you and it makes my heart warm 🤧🥰

Would you want me to write for someone else instead of George? I think i could try either boys and girls from hp and teen wolf universes

Now let’s move on to the fic

If anyone somehow got there before reading the first part I’ll put the link here

it’s 2.7k words if my word counter is right haha

warnings: some kind of mental breakdown? mentions of eating in public

by the way I think I messed some things up there, hope you don’t mind that not everything is well explained

+ i would really appreciate your reblogs and comments it helps me so much to reach to other readers! thank you

———————————

A month passed by, having everything blurred thanks for tears streaming down your face almost every day. That means until you were too weak to dehydrate your body anymore. You didn’t even know what was the main reason for your mood. You saw your boyfriend cheating, but was it really hurting you the most? Being in a relationship with Adrian for only two months, and despite his not-the-best reputation, you still thought that he’ll turn out to be different. It was stupid to believe in, but you, having a massive crush on him, was oblivious as hell. Still, the biggest issue was your friend, George Weasley. Or maybe you shouldn’t use that word while describing him, since you have not spoken to him after the Yule ball night. Things turned out to be just as you said, hearing unpleasant things about your appearance, your character, and your actions was on the daily basis. Gossiping was one issue, but the second problem was definitely worse. Your friends turned away from you. It took a couple of days to make girls talk to you again since they only heard George’s version of what happened that night. Even though you talked to them, the rest of the squad was not fond of your presence, especially Fred, who looked like he wanted to kill you for hurting his brother. Because of that, you mostly spend time with yourself only. Eating out in public became torture, since all the people you talked to, didn’t want to speak to you, so you sat alone, wanting to finish the dish as fast as you could. From time to time, one of three girls came to you for a little talk, but when they saw you, looking like a ghost, they wished they could go back to the group. They were not the best at consoling, it was easy to say, and you, not wanting them to feel pushed to talk to you, let them go. If you’re sad, that doesn’t mean that they should be sad with you, right?

That whole situation made your grades way worse than you thought they could be. You have been forced to study with the Hufflepuff girl named Emily, to get you back on track.

“ Y/N, have you heard what I asked you? You should focus if you want to pass that exam.” She said, trying to get my attention. “But first, tell me, what’s bothering you?”

When you heard this phrase, you explained everything in details. You wanted to speak with someone who wouldn’t defend George’s action and who wouldn’t mention his feelings towards you every five damn minutes. All you wished for is a person who could understand the situation, hearing the story only from your point of view, because your friends, even though they wanted what’s best for you, have focused too much on his feelings, not yours.

“You’re right, Y/N. It’s not your fault. But it isn’t fully his fault either. And by the way, pushing your friends away from you won’t solve any problems. What you should do is talk to them about your feelings, if they are real ones, they won’t leave you. And talk to that George boy. I think he is the right person, I’ve always seen those gingers next to you for the past couple of years, you can’t end a friendship that lasted years just because he admitted his feelings. It’s been a month since you guys talked, and I do not see the problem because you’re now single.”

“Are you suggesting that I should move on quickly and just hop into the next relationship? Don’t want to disappoint you, but I’m not one of those who heal from one romance by jumping into another.”

“But you still can talk to him and personally I think that maybe you like him. Like a little too much. That’s why it hurt you because he could’ve confessed his feelings earlier, then you and Pucey wouldn’t be a thing, you wouldn’t be cheated on, and everything would look like from some unrealistic fairy tale.”

“I hate you.” You mumbled, pulling your head deep in the pillow.

“Cause it’s true?” She asked, but you weren’t able to explain, so you just nodded in response.

“How can one be so genius, and I’m not talking about grades wise, but emotions.”

“Um I don’t know if you’re complimenting me or George.” She started laughing. “Either way, thank you. Now let’s go, you’re going to talk with your friends.”

“Now?” You panicked. “We were supposed to be studying now. I’ll do it tomorrow, I swear.” You promised, knowing that it would be too much for today.

“But I’m going with you. I don’t trust you, Y/N.” She added, punching you in the arm.

You two were studying the History of magic until you started yawning every three minutes. Emily was kind enough to let you rest, reminding you that tomorrow is a big day. These words did not help you at all, struggled with sleeping, overthinking about what you should say when you’ll confront your friend. Were you ready for that conversation? What if he doesn’t love you anymore? What if he moved on, and now you’re going to admit your feelings at the wrong time? But how can you know the answers if you are not going to talk to him? You have to do this. Even if it’s going to be painful, this case needs to be closed.

The night seemed to last for too short because you barely closed your eyes when all the girls from your dormitory started waking up. They were surprised that you’re awake, you couldn’t find the courage to admit that you weren’t sleeping at all. The lack of sleep made you feel like you were drunk, not responding to any of the questions that Angelina and Alicia asked you. Your friends left the dorm shortly before you came back to reality, slowly starting to get yourself ready for this day. Unexpectedly Emily waited for you at the door to your common room, which was very nice, but you were so stressed, that her presence made it only worse. You knew, that you have to do it, and she won’t let you run away and hide from George. It was quite strange that she was so invested in this whole situation, considering that you two knew yourselves for not a long time, and your conversations were focused mainly on studying. Maybe it was the beginning of an amazing friendship? You couldn’t avoid her, not after she was so kind and sympathetic. She wanted to help you and you knew that she’s right about everything.

While wandering through the halls, both of you looked for that one specific person. The school wasn’t full of tall gingers, but the fact that this morning everywhere was a little overcrowded, made it hard for you to reach him. In fact, you couldn’t make it. He was walking alone, however, it occurred to you that he is searching for someone since he kept his head up. You thought that you lost him, no longer seeing the back of his head, but Emily noticed that he turned right, so you went after him. This corridor was almost empty, the majority of Hogwarts students started their lessons, besides you and Emily, there was only George and some girl miles away from you. Emily grabbed your arm and made you hide behind the column, trying not to make it obvious that you both were following him.

“Y/N, I don’t want to make you sad, but it looks like these two were kissing. I’m so sorry honey. Either way, you should talk to him when you feel ready. It’s not worth it, losing a friend.” She mumbled, trying to sound wise, but you saw that she wasn’t so sure about these words.

“It’s fine, Emily. Guess I don’t have the luck in love.” You attempted to joke, holding back your tears. It felt like a real nightmare. Your last boyfriend was a cheater and now, when you were able to love again, finally brave enough to admit that you felt the same as George, it was too fucking late. Your new friend tried to comfort you, slowly walking back to the dormitory.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked, worried about your well-being. All you wished for is to be alone, telling her that you’ll head to your bed to calm yourself down. “I understand honey, I’ll tell your head of the house that you’re sick, so you won’t have to attend today’s lessons. It’s going to be okay, I know that.” Emily added, hugging you tightly, yet tender, not wanting to shatter you. After landing on your cold duvet, you realized that you’re feeling too weak to cry. So you sat there, thinking about everything that recently happened, forcing yourself to break down, because it always helped to clear your mind. Unfortunately, your mind was going crazy, reminding you at once of every moment spent with George. Having different emotions and feeling confused, you managed to fall asleep. You woke up a little dizzy, deciding that you’re gonna attend Care of magical creatures class. That time of sleep made you so relaxed and cleared your mind, convincing you to wake up and not worry about anything for once. You felt like you had nothing to lose, after losing your friends, boyfriend and happiness, sitting in your bed for the rest of the day would not solve anything. And you can not avoid lessons, because your future depends on them.

It took you only ten minutes to dress properly, comb your hair and brush your teeth, so you weren’t late for the class. After welcoming Hagrid, you started to look for Emily, knowing that she was worried about you, so you should explain to her why you decided to come.

“Y/N, I’m so excited that you came, I’ve just talked to Hagrid, and he said that we’re working in pairs today! He chose who’s going to work together, but I might’ve said to him something about you and the Weasley boy, hoping that he’ll put you with him.” She explained to you the whole plan, winking at you from time to time.

She wanted what’s best for you, but it turned out that Fred Weasley was your pair, making you even more anxious, knowing that he hated you for the way you treated his brother after confessions. You tried not to speak or make the first move, but you were so curious what was happening in their life. After all, you were friends for a long time, you couldn’t blame yourself for wanting to get in touch.

“Fred, can we talk? You asked politely, sounding official.

“You mean argue? Cause that’s how you talked with my brother.” He replied rudely.

“You’re making it harder than it is.” You sighed, wanting to change the topic. “I wanted you guys to know that I’m really sorry about that night. I truly do. I know that I can’t change the past, but could we be friends again? I don’t want to sit alone anymore. I’ve made a mistake which I’m going to solve. Please say something.”

“I was angry at you, that’s true, but let’s forget it. Besides, you don’t own me any apology. Talk to him.” He pointed at George, who was paired with Emily, due to Hagrid’s and hers understatement, not having the ability to tell twins apart.

“What do you want me to say to him? I know that he has moved on, I don’t want to create chaos. I think me and him need a little more time to heal.” You admitted, not being happy about what came from your mouth, because it was true.

“Are you mad? George is still single. And he met today only with Katie, but they weren’t kissing. In fact, she slapped him because he couldn’t find the courage to talk to you again. Maybe you saw her leaning to hit him, or checking if she hurt him? I don’t know, don’t ask me.” He looked at you confused, you frowned and noticed that Emily is trying to get your attention. She mouthed that she was wrong and encouraged you to come to them. You didn’t want to, knowing that Hagrid would be asking if something is wrong. You stayed quiet after this, wanting to sort things out.

“Move, Y/N. We’re switching.” The Hufflepuff girl almost yelled at you, seeing that you had zoned out and didn’t hear her previous words. “Hey Freddie.” She winked flirtatiously at him, knowing that she was finally able to tell differences between him and George. “And you, Y/N, go on, your Lover boy is waiting.” She made you go, as you stared at the younger twin, who was talking, or, more like, doing a monologue to the poor, tiny bowtruckle.

“George.” You attempted to get his attention. “I think there’s something we need to talk about.” You added, moving a little closer.

“I think I made everything clear a month ago.” He whispered, not stopping what he was doing. “Nothing changed.”

He still loved you. You couldn’t believe what you heard, because you thought that you broke his heart, what would make a conversation a little harder.

“But aren’t you curious about my feeling towards you?” You mumbled, wishing you were more confident. He raised his gaze, therefore you could see hope in his eyes. “Nothing changed.” You added teasingly, but he was not enjoying it. “Actually, one thing changed. I realized that I might fancy someone, however I was too scared to tell him years ago. I got in a relationship with someone else, thinking that then these feelings will disappear. What an idiotic girl I was. They grew stronger and stronger, making me and my love interest hurt each other. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Now that stupid lass is standing there, next to him, believing that after a whole month of avoiding one another, they could start again?”

“Class dismissed.” Hagrid interfered your monologue, making everyone leave. You sighed, happy that this conversation won’t be heard any more by some random people.

“Will you say something?” You asked, worried that George was quiet for that long and wasn’t even looking at you. “I’ll understand if you will say no. I hurt you and it may take some time to recover. I totally get that. You were waiting for me for many months, I can take a couple more. Just wanted to inform you that I’m reciprocating your feelings.”

You stared at him, waiting patiently for his response. His face looked like he was going to swoon, tears appearing in his brown eyes.

“Are you crying?” You asked rhetorically, wanting to know what’s going on.

“I sure am.” He replied, rubbing his eyes. “I simply can not believe in what you said, Y/N. I have tears in my eyes because I’ve blinked way too much, convinced that it’s a dream. Pinch me, please. Maybe this method will work.” He smiled at you, yet you could not do what he asked you to. you hugged him instead, humming quietly.

“I was waiting for this one.” You looked in his eyes, getting shyer, so you hid your head in his robes.

“I was waiting for something different.” He confessed, taking you by your chin, making you meet his eyes once again. “May I?” Asking for permission, and getting a nod in reply, he leaned closer to kiss your lips. You felt amazing, yet a little different than a month ago. Because now, that was what both of you wanted. And this time, you did not care about what other people say. Now that you found each other at the right time, nothing could ruin your mood, especially not the gossips, feeling proud of yourself for being that interested that people chose to focus more on you rather than on themselves.

“We should thank Emily for that.” You murmured, taking his hand. Remembering that you have a lot to tell your friends. Also, you’ll make them promise, that no personal disagreements will come between you. Things started to seem right, because you finally had the right person by your side.

“We’ll do it after she stops snogging with Fred.” George replied, looking at the pair, sitting on a bench. “Y/N, get yourself ready for double dates with these two.” He added, making you officially his girlfriend.

[thestarlightsymphony]

Can you do number 20, please? 😙

20. Bandaging/stitching up an injury

Bounties were already pretty scarce before the girls left. So when the opportunity arose and the target looked interesting, Spike was more than raring to go. Of course, that attitude always led to disaster, and this time was no exception.

The info on the bounty was rotten; turns out he had friends, and those friends had friends. Spike? Well, he’d figured it was a quick catch, only gave Jet a brief heads-up before he was off. He barely made it back to the ship conscious. 

As Spike made a wobbly landing, he couldn’t hear half of Jet’s barrage through the ringing in his ears. Among a couple shots to his shoulder and a beat down he hadn’t had since childhood, he’d been knocked against a wall, hard, before he’d been able to make a break for it. Probably got a concussion; that would explain why he was seeing double as he popped open the hood to the Swordfish and struggled to get a grip as he stood. That would also explain why he missed his footing and nearly broke his arm, tumbling to the floor of the hangar.

Jet’s furious tirade turned quickly to confusion as he approached him from the hatch, but Spike still couldn’t make out his words. In fact, it was pretty hard to concentrate on anything, including staying on his feet. The adrenaline had completely worn off, and the pain was catching up to him. The hangar continued to blur as Jet caught him, hooking under his arm as his eyelids started to droop.

Huh... never thought this would be the end of me. 

Another pair of hands caught him just as his knees gave out, and the hangar faded altogether....

-----

The first feeling was aching. A tingling, constant pain, dragging Spike unforgiving back to consciousness. His eyelids felt heavy, too heavy too open, and all he wanted to do was sleep to escape the pain, but the pain and... something else wouldn’t let him. 

Everything ached. The back of his head pounded like a son of a bitch, and even the smallest muscle twitch was excruciating. His shoulder felt the worst of it; two bullets will do that to you.

In fact, that’s what he could feel. Spike still couldn’t open his eyes, his body wasn’t fully awake. But he could feel something, a weight on his arm. Like... a hand. Someone was holding his hand. Another weight descended, firmly holding down his other shoulder. Sound was coming back to him. He could almost hear... what were they saying...

“--- sure? Shouldn’t he--- ake fo--- is?”

“Noth--- can’t le--- fected--- eady?”

Something long was forced between his teeth. It felt strange, like wood almost.

“Alright, on three. One. Two---”

Spike understood the wooden spoon between his teeth seconds before the pliers began to dig for the bullets in his arm. Red hot pain shot instantly through his arm as metal intruded against tender muscle. His back arched on instinct, his jaw locked against the scream forcing its way through his body. The hands holding him down tensed, keeping him in place even as he thrashed against the ever increasing agony.

He felt the first one being pulled free, one last rush before the pain slightly eased. All feeling faded again before they started on the second.

----

Something cool draped across his forehead. It felt so soothing, but Spike couldn’t remember why he needed anything like that.

What... what had he been doing?

He couldn’t remember much; nothing but the static of something important. Something really painful... was he dead?

No... he could feel that much. In fact, it was becoming unfortunate that he could feel. Feeling was bringing back a body-wide discomfort.

Oh, yeah. The shoot-out, the fight he lost, the... oooooh. Arm, bullet, bummer. Right.

It still hurt, but the excoriation had dulled. The cool feeling spread, from his forehead, then from the hole in his shoulder. It was being spread, somehow, soft and carefully. An gentle pressure held his arm up, before a thin cloth began to wrap around his arm.

Ah. Jet, probably. Pulled the bullet out; I’ll have to thank him---

A quiet voice began to hum, close to his ear. Some long-forgotten tune from a dead era. Sung just so slightly out of key, he liked to think.

Heavy footsteps brought the smell of cooking food closer. “How’s he doing? He wake up yet?”

Fingers touched his face, lightly brushing strands of hair from his forehead. “Not yet. I’m just about finished bandaging him up, the lunkhead.”

The deeper voice chuckled. “Wouldn’t have guessed you’d actually want to help stitch him up, Faye. I bet he’ll pay dearly for such tender care.”

Faye practically hissed, one hand clasping Spike’s arm. “Don’t you dare tell him I helped! He’s already got a big enough head; don’t give him any ideas that I care about him or anything. I’m not even really helping. You can’t make dinner and put him back together, and I’m sure as hell not going to cook for you men. I’m not really the ‘housewife’ type, you know?”

“You’re telling me that you’re bandaging Spike up because you want dinner faster?”

“Precisely.”

“Whatever,” Jet mocked, his footsteps gradually receding. “Better get a move on, then, if you don’t want him to get the wrong idea. Might want to stop staring at him for long periods, too.”

The hand gripping his arm tightened, but Faye only tsked until Jet’s footsteps had faded away. The cloth wrapping around his arm resumed as she muttered to herself.

“Unbelievable. As if I’d... ugh. Men. So full of themselves. As if I had any... for this lunkhead?! He just gets himself into trouble, time and time again, and we have to pick up after him. Such a baby.”

Faye tucked the edge of the bandage, resting Spike’s hand lightly in her own. “Lunkhead,” she muttered. Delicate fingers trailed along his shoulder, traveling up his neck to his jaw. “Look at you, with your perfect shoulders and strong jaw. Can’t even look after yourself. You really are lucky I stayed around, you know? At least now you have someone looking out for you.”

She adjusted the clothe on his brow, tucking her fingers gently through his hair. “Stay asleep a little longer, alright? You need it, considering all this damage if you’ve done to yourself. Jet checked you over with the alpha catch; nothing more than you’ve already got wrong with that head of yours. Sleep a little more, won’t you Spike? Just stay as you are, right now, quiet and handsome... and alive.”

Some fabric rustled, and he felt her breath against his neck. “Stay alive, Spike Spiegel. Please.”

Spike shifted towards her voice. “Can’t make any promises,” he mumbled.

Faye gasped. A slap quickly followed.

“What the hell, Faye,” Spike groaned, too exhausted for much more.

“How... how long have you been awake?”

Spike cracked his eyes open, barely shrugging. “Just that last part.” 

He searched her face, a weak smile forming at the panic in her eyes. “You really want me to stay alive, huh?”

Faye’s face immediately scrunched into a glare. “Of course,” she growled as she stood. “We don’t have enough to spare on burying you. It’d be a waste of money, anyway. With the way you act, it’s not like there’ll be much to bury, anyway.”

With a huff, she stood. “Jet’s almost done with dinner. Try and stay awake, since you’re at it already.”

She hurried out of sight, grumbling as she went. Spike’s eyes drifted up to the ceiling fan. He twitched his good arm experimentally. Too weak, still ached too much, otherwise he would have raised it to his face.

To his cheek, where the ghost of Faye’s fingertips still made his skin tingle.

Strong jaw, huh?

His grin widened.

Don’t worry, Faye. I won’t get the wrong idea.

As long as you don’t.

... It was strange, though.

Her touch was so gentle. Much more than he’d imagined.

[dapperdeerstabbing]

How would the Hazbin crew react to a human who accidentally got sent to hell falling in love with them? If they develop feelings, how would they react to the human being willing to stay with them in hell?

Anon, this is my longest response to anything so far; I also wrote this the other night after coming off of a nine hour shift and was sleep deprived as fuck, I hope you’re still (somehow?) satisfied by this!

Charlie

• “Oh my god! Are you okay???”

•  She’s very concerned for you.

• What do you mean you’re a human?

• What do you mean you accidentally got sent to Hell?

• You’re immediately escorted to the hotel for safety.

• Do you want to go home? She’ll help find a way for you to!

• “Wait, you…you like me?”

• Yeah, duh, how could you not like the Princess of Hell, who’s actually so kind and loving?

• Of course she develops feelings back.

• “Oh, but…you need to go back home, right? I shouldn’t keep you here. That would be selfish.”

• Telling her you’re actually willing to stay in Hell shocks her. She tries very hard to convince you not to, seeing as you don’t belong here morally.

• Arguing with you proves futile. She allows you to move in with her, in an attempt to keep you safe.

Vaggie

• The first thing you get is a spear pressed to your neck.

• “Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?”

• You’re a human. Vaggie was once a human. She just…doesn’t trust you. Though, she does eventually take the spear away from your neck. Only so you can speak.

• “Okay, how do you just accidentally get sent to Hell?”

• You don’t know. And you tell her as much.

• “Well…okay. Come with me. There’s no need for you to just…die out here, I guess.”

• Vaggie’s first instinct is to go to Charlie for help. She gets you a hotel room, just so you’ve got a place to call your own for now.

• When you tell her you’ve developed feelings for her, Vaggie doesn’t really reciprocate…at first.

• “You’re just…stressed, or something, from being down here. The feelings will fade.”

• They don’t, though.

• She really can’t believe that you want to stay there, in Hell, because you want to be with her. But she is willing to give you a chance.

• “I…yeah, sure. Let’s give it a try, okay?”

Angel

• He’s not that concerned for your health, not at first. Really, he thinks you might be dead.

• When you sit back up, he’s alarmed.

• “Oh! You’re not dead? That’s fortunate!”

•  Angel keeps you close to him at all times after you explain your situation. He’s very…interested in you.

• It straight up takes maybe five minutes of real interaction for you to gain feelings for the spider boi. Honestly, how could you not like him?

• Truly, he’s not surprised at all. “Well yeah sure, you’re a human, but so what? Everyone likes me, toots.”

• Oh but, wait…your feelings persist? It’s not just admiration?

• And you’re willing to stay in Hell for him?

•  “What the fuck?”

• Honestly, how could he not eventually get feelings for you in return? It was pretty much inevitable.

• Angel probably cries because most of the “feelings” people have for him are just pure lust. Not that he’s never been genuinely loved! It’s just rare, especially in his line of work.

Niffty

• Now isn’t this a surprise! A new f r i e n d.

• Niffty wastes no time in cleaning you up.

• “That fall really made your outfit filthy, and we can’t have that! Here, let me!”

• She’s asked too many times now if you’re okay or not. But you know she’s (probably) just a wee bit concerned. Though, maybe not, she is a demon after all.

• “I don’t know why you’re here, but I know the best place to go!” And of course, she means Charlie’s hotel; she gets some kind of bonus from Alastor for pleasantly talking about it.

• Niffty’s always around, keeping your new living space clean and providing you with food and small gifts, just because she can. You even tell her she doesn’t need to, but she never seems to mind.

• She’s just so sweet. And tender and caring and and and- yeah, you being able to go on about her is really making your feelings obvious.

• Unfortunately, Niffty seems to be on a quest of sorts to find a very specific man.

• Even knowing this, for some fuckass reason you want to stay with her? In Hell?

• “That’s so kind! You can help me find the man I’m looking for!”

• Plot twist: maybe you’re the man!

Husk

• To be honest, you go a while in Hell without seeing or even being made aware of Husk.

• And frankly, he’s indifferent about your situation.

• “Oh, so you don’t belong here? Heh, yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

• He really doesn’t care about your predicament. Though, he is somewhat interested in it.

• Somehow, you find yourself falling for the grumpy cat boi.

• Husk never catches onto this. You wind up having to tell him.

• And - shocker - he just doesn’t care.

• “Man, I feel sorry for you. That’s gotta suck.”

• You even go a step further and tell him you’re willing to stay in Hell because of your feelings for him. Husk doesn’t necessarily share these feelings now; but he is a little interested in your choice.

• “I mean…I guess if you want to stay here, that’s fine. I don’t mind the company.”

• Husk is probably just fine with becoming good pals with you; he’s more interested in a solid friendship than romance, seeing as he literally doesn’t have the ability to feel love (or at least, so he says).

Alastor

• Oh. Oh, dear, of all the demons to run into while accidentally being in the depths of Hell, did it have to be the fucking Radio Demon?

• Of course it did! And my, is he interested in your weird…predicament.

• “Hm, a human here, in Hell? What a strange occurrence! Come deary, we’ll get this sorted out.”

• He’s such a gentleman, and so charming! You’re immediately smitten with him.

• Alastor figures this out almost as soon as it becomes apparent, too. This is amusing to him, nothing more, nothing left.

• “Darling, I’m flattered! But I’m afraid I simply do not share the same feelings.”

• Ouch.

• A demon overlord apparently hasn’t got the time for romance. Damn.

• You inevitably tell him you’re willing to stay there in order to be with him. While he still doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, he’s intrigued by the fact you’re just…willing to drop everything? Because of him?

• “My my, it seems I can’t change your little mind. Hm, perhaps I’ll have some use for you down here, then?”

• The Radio Demon gains a new acquaintance.

[rushingheadlong]

Make It Up (As You Go Along) - A Freddie x m!Reader fic

Summary: Freddie’s birthday is quickly approaching… and so is yours. The only problem is that Freddie doesn’t know that, and you don’t particularly want to tell him.

Words: ~2200

Tags: Male Reader, H/C, brief mention of a bad relationship with parents

Notes: Happy birthday to Freddie! And also happy birthday to me, because my birthday is also September 5th and as such I have written this absolutely self-indulgent birthday-themed fic as a gift for myself.

You regret the lie the moment that it slips out. You had been hoping that the subject of your birthday would somehow never come up, but with all the preparations for Freddie’s party in full swing it was only a matter of time before he asked you, “Oh, darling, by the way, when’s your birthday?” and when he did you just panicked.

“Oh, ah- May. May 14th,” you tell him… except that’s not really your birthday at all.

Freddie pouts a little. “So I have to wait half a year to spoil you rotten?”

You for a laugh and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You say that as if you don’t spoil me rotten every day of the week anyway.”

“Well, I can’t help it when I have a gorgeous boyfriend like you,” Freddie says. He catches you around the waist before you can pull away and kisses you properly, and you let yourself melt against him a little as the lie fades from your thoughts.

And it is easy to forget about the lie. Freddie’s birthday, you’re given to understand, is always a huge production but he takes a certain amount of genuine joy in planning it and you love seeing him this happy. He keeps asking your opinion on decorations or invitation lists and you like being involved in it all. You’ve never been able to plan a proper birthday party before, and even if you know that Freddie will always just do whatever he wants to do you like seeing it all come together anyway.

Freddie’s party is scheduled for September 6th, a Friday night, but Thursday morning you wake up to find flowers and cards and gifts already streaming into the house. Freddie is in the lounge with a cup of tea and that’s where you join him as Phoebe and Joe sort through all of the deliveries.

“Good morning, my love,” Freddie greets you as you curl up next to him. You’re not nearly as much of a morning person as Freddie is and you let your eyes slip closed as you cuddle close against his side.

“Good morning,” you mumble in response.

Freddie laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll have Phoebe bring you a cup of tea, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, though it comes out more like a soft slur of vowels instead of an actual word.

You don’t really fall asleep again, but you do doze off a little as Freddie asks Phoebe to bring you some tea and he accepts another stack of cards from Joe which he perfunctorily riffles through before setting aside. It’s cozy here at Freddie’s side, with only the sound of Phoebe and Joe talking in hushed whispers in the hall breaking the last of the morning’s quietness that’s still clinging to the house.

“Oh, Joe, dear, we don’t have any more room for flowers in here, take those somewhere else, why don’t you?” Freddie says, softly, so as not to disturb you.

“Sorry Freddie, but these- Well, these aren’t for you.”

“What do you mean they aren’t for me? Who are they for then?”

“The card says they’re for Y/N.”

It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do it feels like someone dropped a bucket of ice water down your spine. You scramble to sit up, your stomach already twisting into knots, just as Freddie asks, “What? Why? What else does the card say?”

“Dear Y/N, We hope you have-”

“Joe, stop-” you try to say, but it’s too late.

“-a very happy birthday.” The color drains out of Joe’s face and he looks up at you, uncertain and apologetic.

“Birthday?” Freddie echoes, giving you a disbelieving look. “What do you mean, birthday?”

“They- It must be from someone who just wrote the wrong name on the card!” you say with a nervous laugh. “Obviously, they’re not really for me-”

“Sorry, Y/N. The card says they’re from your parents,” Joe says quietly.

You stand up and wrench the flowers from his hands and, yes, sure enough they’re from your parents. How they found out you were living with Freddie you have no idea - probably one of your sisters, and you’ll have to have words with them later. But that doesn’t help you now, with Joe standing awkwardly next to you and Freddie staring at you with the beginnings of anger starting to creep into his eyes.

“Birthday,” he says again. “You said your birthday was in May, Y/N. So why are you getting flowers from your parents now?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them-”

“This isn’t about the fucking flowers!” Freddie snaps, and Joe makes a quick escape out of the room. “This is about you, apparently, lying to me about your birthday! When is it, really?”

You gnaw on your lip, and look away from him, and debate throwing yourself out of the window to avoid this conversation.

“Y/N,” Freddie says. “When is your birthday?”

You swallow harshly and stare down at the floor as you finally come clean. “Today. September 5th.”

“Today,” Freddie repeats. “You- Your birthday is today. We share a birthday and you lied about it? Why?”

You open your mouth, close it, swallow again. The words are there but they stick in your throat and don’t want to come out, and you hear Freddie snort in disgust after a too-long moment of silence. “Right, well, let me guess then. You thought I’d throw some diva fit about having to share the spotlight with you, so you thought you’d just lie to me instead, was that it?”

“No! No, Freddie, no-”

“I thought you, of all people, would know that I’m not like that, but I guess I was wrong,” Freddie continues as if he didn’t hear you talking, and maybe he didn’t. You finally look up at him but he’s no longer looking at you, at least not directly. He’s staring down at the floor, his hands clenched tightly together, and even with his face partially hidden you can see the tightness in his mouth that tells you that he really is properly angry about this.

“Well, if that’s the sort of person you think I am, then you can get the hell out of my house,” Freddie says as he looks back up at you. His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, but there’s a real pain on his face too that cuts you to see.

And you’re angry now too, angry that Freddie is jumping to these conclusions instead of giving you one damn second to gather your thoughts and try to explain your actions to him. “If that’s what you want then fine, I’ll leave!” you snap. “Because I don’t fucking need to be with someone who’s so fucking self-centered that everything always has to be about him!”

Something flashes across Freddie’s face and he shifts, a little uncomfortable, but you’re on your own tirade now and nothing - not even Freddie fucking Mercury - can stop you.

“I don’t need you, Freddie! I don’t need this house or my birthday or these stupid flowers from my parents who don’t give a fuck about me anyway!” You throw the flowers onto the ground and the vase shatters, sending water and shards of glass and plant material flying across the floor, and causing Freddie to shout and jump to his feet.

“You want to know why I lied about my birthday? Because it doesn’t fucking matter! My birthday has never mattered! My family doesn’t care, my friends have never cared, and at this point I don’t fucking care either!” you yell at Freddie. “All I wanted was to enjoy your party and celebrate your birthday, because mine has never been important!”

You turn to leave, but Freddie grabs your wrist just as you reach the doorway and says, “Y/N. Wait, please, wait.”

You don’t turn around. You don’t want Freddie to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “What do you want, Freddie?” you ask, and it doesn’t come out angry anymore. Even to your own ears, you just sound tired.

“Come back to the sofa with me. Let’s talk about this properly, alright?” Freddie says gently. His thumb is rubbing along the inside of your wrist and you can feel your resolve, and the last of your anger, starting to crumble.

“Alright,” you relent after a moment.

You let Freddie gently coax you back around and his face crumbles when he sees the tears. “Oh, Y/N…” He reaches up and gently wipes them away, and you can’t hold back a small sniffle at his tenderness. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead and says, “I am so sorry for what I said, love. I didn’t mean a word of it, and I should have let you explain instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you,” you say, absolutely miserably. “I’m sorry Freddie, I panicked and I regretted it the moment I said it but I didn’t know how to take it back-”

“It’s alright, darling, I promise it’s alright,” Freddie cuts in before you can work yourself up too badly. “Let’s go sit down, alright? We’ll sit down and we’ll talk about this like the rational adults we always pretend to be.”

You manage a small smile at that and let Freddie lead you back to the couch. You don’t curl up against him like you did before - god, those half-asleep cuddles feel so long ago now - but Freddie takes your hand in his, and that’s alright for now.

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” you apologize again. “I shouldn’t have lied, I know that, I just… Well, I hate my birthday. My family never celebrated it, not really. Oh, my parents would make a show of taking me out to dinner at restaurants they chose and giving me practical, respectable gifts instead of anything I actually wanted…” You shake your head. “God, that makes me sound so selfish, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not selfish to want a little bit of attention on your birthday,” Freddie says, but you shake your head.

“I don’t want attention, though. That’s why I lied,” you tell him. “I don’t like celebrating my birthday. I don’t like people making a fuss over me, and every time I’ve tried to have a party my friends have all been busy anyway. I don’t like being given a ton of things that I don’t need and don’t want and have to pretend to care about so I don’t hurt other people’s feelings. I just want to have some time alone to do something nice for myself.” You manage to give Freddie a small smile and add, “Or else spend the day with someone I love.”

Freddie smiles back at you, but there’s still a hint of hurt in his eyes - and you only realize that it’s for you when he says, “I’m so sorry, lovie. I’m sorry that you’ve never had a birthday that you’ve enjoyed. If you don’t want to celebrate that’s perfectly alright but, darling, we could have done something. Phoebe could have baked your favorite scones for breakfast, instead of just mine. We could have made arrangements to go out to your favorite restaurant for dinner tonight, and I could have bought you your favorite flowers even if you didn’t want anything else.”

“Do you even know what my favorite flowers are?” you ask with a small, watery laugh.

“Peach roses,” Freddie says, without hesitation. “And tulips, in any color. And lilacs. And daffodils.” He does laugh a little then, and adds, “You like most flowers, but those are your favorites.”

“They are,” you have to admit, and you’re crying again but luckily Freddie is still there to wipe the tears away again. “I’m so-”

“If you apologize again, I will have to do something drastic to shut you up,” Freddie says, teasing. “It’s quite alright. I’m only upset that today is going to be entirely about me, when it should be about you as well, so if there’s anything you want today…”

“There isn’t anything, not really,” you tell him. “I just want to spend the day with you.”

“Well then, I think that can be arranged.” Freddie stands up and gently pulls you to your feet as well. “Let’s start off by going back upstairs so we can enjoy our birthdays together.” He looks at the mess on the floor from where you smashed the vase and adds, “And so this can get cleaned up.”

You look down at the mess and wince a little. “I should-”

“You should come upstairs with me,” Freddie interrupts gently. “Joe or Phoebe can handle it, and you can apologize to them later if that will make you feel better.” He kisses you, so tenderly that it makes your chest ache, and murmurs against your lips. “Come to bed, Y/N. Please?”

“Yes,” you breathe against his mouth, and you feel him smile against you - before he pulls away and, beaming, leads the way back up to the bedroom.

[forever-rogue]

Step Into the Daylight - Part 4

Summary: While fighting for your own survival, you somehow ended up in the care of one stoic Mandalorian…and his adopted child. Now, even are parting ways for sometime, you find yourself reunited under some...interesting circumstances.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the all love and support on all the parts of this series, it was seriously overwhelming and amazing, and I hope you continue to enjoy this little series. Taglists are open, and as always feedback is welcome! xx

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin x Reader)

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: none

Main Masterlist

Mandalorian Masterlist

SERIES MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next time Din stirred and woke up, pulled from the lull of sleep by the noise around him, he looked around for you and almost jumped off the bed when he couldn’t find you. He studied the still room for a moment, and when your figure still wasn’t in his line of sight, he sat up in the small cot, immediately regretting his actions as pain shot through his side. A soft sigh reached his ears before he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, “shhh, you need to take it easy.”

“Y/N,” he let out a sigh of relief as your voice provided a reassurance that he was okay, and more importantly that you were okay You nodded even though he couldn’t see your face before moving to stand in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” your voice was soft as could be and it made his heart flutter as your fingers skirted along his side, pushing up the shirt to examine the healing progress his wounds had made. When he didn’t stop you, you continued on, taking a moment to pause and gently touch over one of his old scars before lifting the bacta patch to examine the damage. You studied everything for a moment determining that it was healing well, as well as it could be anyway, “your wounds are looking good. They’ll hurt for a bit, but you’ll be right as rain in no time.”

“What about you?” he caught your hand with his before giving it a small squeeze and catching your gaze. You wondered if he overheard last night’s exchange and of you being accused of wielding some of force, but decided not to push that issue just yet. Forcing the most minuscule of smiles onto your features, you before pulling your hand out of his and clearing your throat. 

“I wasn’t hurt,” you explained, clearly trying to divert something, “therefore there is nothing to worry about, except for you. I do have some bad news though ...you can’t stay here. I’m so sorry, Din, I tried but they don’t feel safe with us here.”

“I...know,” he whispered quietly, revealing that he had indeed overheard the conversation that had occurred. You bit your bottom lip before letting out a long sigh, letting it speak for you, so many unspoken words with that single breath of air, “what are you going to do?”

“A plan hasn’t even crossed my mind yet,” you admitted, gesturing to his sides, “I’ve had more important matters to tend to. I want you to be well and able to get out of here.”

“Come with me. Come back,” he suddenly suggested and your heart did a flip inside your chest. He wanted you to come back. All those nights you spent wondering if he even enjoyed your presence and thought about you weren’t for nothing after all, “I-I know it’s not much, but I...feel like you belong with me. I can’t quite explain it, but…”

“It brought you back here,” your soft was soft and barely audible, but he heard you loud and clear, only nodding in response as a weak smile crossed his features, “the last place you saw me. How did you know I’d even still be here?”

“I didn’t know,” he reached up gingerly, unsure of how you would react to him to his touch, but decided to just throw caution out of the window and just do it. Something inside him pushed him to do, every part of him buzzing with excitement, but your positive response was enough for him, as you leaned into his tender touch, his hand so much more gentle that you thought it would be, “I just guessed, and hoped that you’d still be here. I just got lucky - I asked about you in the marketplace and one of stand owners told me you were here. I was going to come looking for you, but I got...into that little altercation you saved me from.”

“You were willing to take that big of a chance just to come and find me,” it wasn’t a question, but rather a statement of a fact that you both knew to be true. You put your hand on his wrist, a turn of events from how it used to be the opposite way around, “I...I don’t know what to say. But I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you everyday since I left...I just wish things had things had turned out differently for you here. That you weren’t hurt because of me.”

“I’m alive because of you,” he insisted, pulling his hand back gently, but not before giving yours a squeeze, “it appears it is now that me that owes everything to you.”

“I guess that makes us even now, doesn’t it?’ you teased with a small wink, which sent his heart reeling with euphoria. 

“I guess it does,” he agreed, “but I’ve ruined everything for you here, the life you’ve built, it’s all gone because of me.”

“Shh,” you shook your head fervently, trying to get him out of the negative path of thinking he was on, “you’ve done nothing wrong...I don’t know what happened out there, or what people think they saw, but you’re not the one who did any of this, okay? Please tell me you know that.”

“I-”

“Din,” you gave him a firm look, upset that he was blaming all of this on himself, “whatever happened probably would have happened with or without you here, sooner or later. I guess if anything I’m glad that you’re here now...it’s nice to have a familiar face around.”

“Even if you’ve never seen it?” he mused and the two of you shared a small laugh before you reached up and tapped the side of his beskar helmet. 

“Even if I’ve never seen it,” you agreed, “I’ve never....really had a consistent anything in my life, so the change is nice, trust me. Even though we weren’t together that long, I know you’re a friend.”

“What do you say then?” he asked again, throwing out his earlier question again. You weren’t going to say no time - you didn’t really have a choice at this point, and he would be your only way off of this planet, but even more than that, you wanted to go with him. Deep in your heart of hearts you knew your place was with him. 

“Of course,” you said with a small smile, “of course I’ll go back with you. I haven’t got many things, so it shouldn’t take long to pack. I’m afraid we’ll have to go soon, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be welcome here. Do you think you’ll be okay to go? Otherwise I’m sure I can bide more time for you to heal.”

“No, I’ll be alright,” he promised, slowly sitting up in the small bed, leaning his back against the wall as the little bit of effort wore him out. You sighed internally, before reaching over to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “it’s fine, I’ll be okay to go in no time. Just go and get your things.”

“You’re sure?” you asked softly, wishing there was a way to take away all of his pain, just like he had done for you. He nodded and you just gave him a small smile, before standing up and heading to gather your few possessions. You could feel his eyes on you with every move, almost as if he was making a mental inventory of everything you owed. It wasn’t much more than you had left with, except for a new set of vibroblades that had been made just for you by Barto. 

When he had given them to you he told you he hoped you would never had a need for him, but in case you did, you’d be protected. Maybe now they would come in handy. But the final piece was the cloak that Din had given to you just before parting ways. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face, relieved that his face was hidden, as he watched you put it on over your shoulders.

“You still have it,” he didn’t really intend for you to hear it, but you did indeed, meeting his gaze from across the room, as you beamed at him.

“Of course,” you promised, “I’d never part with it. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me. Besides, it...reminded me of you. Who wouldn’t want to be reminded of their friend every time they wore something special?”

“Right,” he said as his went spinning, mulling over every word you had said. You finished gathering everything into your rucksack before heading back over to him. A small pile of clean clothes had been placed out for him, and you knew that despite requiring you to leave, your adopted family really did care. If things had been different, circumstances altered slightly, you would have remained with them. But then, perhaps everything was playing out exactly how it needed to, how the force, or whatever mysterious thing behind life was, wanted it to be. 

“Here,” you handed him the neatly folded clothing and pointed into the direction of the small refresher, “you can go use the sanistream before we leave, and change into these. I’m afraid your clothes are beyond repair...at least what I can do anyway.”

Din looked down at his torso and seemed to notice for the first time how tattered his garments were; they were covered in holes and tears, and almost more skin was on display than fabric. Taking a step back, you held out your hand to him and helped hoist him to his feet, slowly to prevent anything from hurting. 

His touch seemed to linger a few moments longer than necessary before he cleared his throat and you looked away shyly, letting him go to change. You felt that familiar jostling in the depths of your stomach as you watched him walk away, wondering if it would ever die down, or if you’d have to learn to deal with it. Either way, you were elated to be reunited with one of the few people you’d ever considered a friend.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You just had to pick the furthest possible spot on this planet to land, didn’t you?” you’d been walking for what seemed like hours, and it reality had been, the warm sun beating down on your skin, causing sweat to run down your whole body, your clothes sticking to your skin - Din had tried his best not to stare, but nonetheless his eyes were drawn to your form. He was very glad for the helmet in that moment. Your hand was wrapped around his waist, both in an effort to keep him close to you and to make sure he didn’t lose his balance. You could tell that he was still in small amounts of pain, even if he didn’t admit it, but he hadn’t fought you when you came to his aid, silently, graciously accepting the aid.

“I figured it was safer this way,” he said quietly as his trusty old Razor Crest came into view. You felt an odd sense of calm and relieve wash over you as you took in the glimmering silver metallic outside, realizing that you were home. Home. What an odd concept that was. 

“Oh yeah, it really helped with that,” you huffed lightly at him and he made a small strangled sound reminiscent of a laugh, “but at least we’re almost there. Then you can rest properly until you’re properly healed.”

“There’s no time for that-”

“I didn’t intend for that comment to invite discussion,” you quirked an eyebrow at him. You felt an odd pull, deep within you when you approached the front of the ship. You dropped your arm from around him and stared at the ship, letting him open the entryway. You stood there, staring and unmoving for a few moments, almost as if you were instinctively waiting for something to happen. Sure enough, you soon felt a little life approaching and when you looked up you found your small green friend looking at you. 

You dropped to your knees as you looked at him and without a moment of pause or hesitation, he ran over to you as quickly as his little legs would allow him to waddle. Holding your arms open, you scooped him up as soon as he was within reach and clutched him tightly to your chest. 

“I’ve missed you so much my little friend,” you said softly as he did his best to hug you back with his little arms. It was almost as though no time had passed; you could have last seen him yesterday by the way he reacted to you. He’d never forgotten you, he remembered you clear as day. After making a small sound of content, he pulled back and looked at you intently, his little ears perking up as he put a small hand onto your cheek. He was trying to wipe away the few tears that had cascaded down your cheeks, only this time they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of joy. 

“He’s missed you,” Din said as he watched the two of you, noting that there was something, some sort of connection or beyond between the two of you. You looked at the Mandalorian and nodded, standing back up to your full height with the Child still in your arms, “he...never really seemed as happy as when you were gone.”

“I’ve missed him too,” you concurred, listening to him coo happily, “but don’t worry, I’ve missed you too, both of you.”

Din grabbed your bag that you had dropped in your excitement at reunited and walked back inside the ship, motioning for you to follow. You eagerly did. 

“Do you want some soup?” he asked as you followed him down the familiar path of corridors. You couldn’t even hold back your small snort at his question; he turned to you and you were sure that he had an inquisitive expression etched on his hidden face.

“What is it with you and soup?” you laughed as he just shrugged. You had a feeling you knew, even without him saying it, “is that...the only thing you know how to make?”

“No,” he insisted with a waggle of his gloved finger, “it’s just the thing I’m best at making. And it seems to satisfy him.”

“Well, I’ve got some news for you, Din Djarin, there are plenty of other easy things to make,” you insisted, stepping past him and into the kitchen, “and I’ll teach you them. If someone like myself knows how to cook, then it should be a breeze for a Mandalorian.”

“Are you saying my soup is no good?!”

“Nope,” you said as you sat down the Child and started rummaging through the cupboards, “but I’m telling you it’s time to expand your culinary horizons. In my...past life I often got stuck with kitchen duty, and you’d be amazed what you can teach yourself. But for tonight, you need to go and rest and I’ll make something. Yes?”

He hesitated for a moment, the grin on face stretching so widely he was afraid it might break his face. This was meant to be, he just knew it. So he agreed, giving you a small nod before whispering, “yes.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was late. Very late, and you knew you should have been in in your small cot, fast asleep, but instead you found yourself wide awake and able to do everything but give in to the sweet embrace of slumber. Every fiber of your being was humming and vibrating, and there was too much excitement flowing in your veins to sleep. 

Instead you found yourself wandering through the darkened corridors of the ship, running your fingertips over the metallic walls. It all felt so familiar and comforting and you knew you were home. Even though it was a far cry from what would most people consider a suitable living space, it meant everything to you because it contained the two living creatures that you cared for the most. 

When you reached Din’s sleeping quarters, you noticed that his door was slightly ajar, and there was a moment of temptation to peek in and to make sure he was sleeping. He needed as much rest as you, if not more. But you didn’t want to break his trust so you pushed past it and headed towards the cockpit, deciding to sit there and watched the darkened night sky. The stars always looked the most beautiful when you were meant to be sleeping; you’d discovered that soon after you’d first parted from Din and the Child and couldn’t sleep and resorted to sitting on the roof and looking at the sky. 

Climbing into the cockpit, you got ready to sit in the copilot’s seat, but instead of emptiness and silence, your eyes were met with the sight of Din leaning back in his seat, legs up on the dash, nothing but under clothes and his helmet on. You were about to turn around and retreat, thinking that perhaps he hadn’t heard you or felt your presence, but of course, nothing was missed by his well trained ears. 

“Stay,” it was a soft, quiet declaration. Not a question or a demand, but an invitation. Despite his back being turned to you, you gave him an affirmative nod before making your way back and silently slinking into the seat next to his. You could almost feel his body heat radiating onto you as you keep your eyes straight and didn’t look at him, crossing your legs under you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you teased, giving him a small smile, feeling his gaze turned to you. Eventually you gave in, unable to take him silently watching and turned your whole seat to him, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered and you hoped he wasn’t lying to you, although he had no reason to lie, “thank you for all your help, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Probably not be in this position in the first place,” you admitted and he let out a short bark of laughter. Theoretically speaking, you were right, but realistically speaking, you both knew that in your heart of hearts that you would be together again, someday somehow, “but I’m glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d…”

“I know,” he finished for you, the corners of your mouth twitching up slightly, “what about you? Why are you awake at this ungodly hour?”

“Same as you,” you shrugged lightly, “couldn’t sleep.” 

He gave you a silent nod and the two of you went back to sitting together in peaceful silence. With so many others you’d have left, or felt the need to feel the quiet air with conversation, but not with Din. There was nothing awkward that came with sitting next to him in the still night air, it was like your bodies were doing all the speaking for you and nothing needed to be verbalized. 

But after sometime, when the lightest bits of pink started to color the night sky that turned into a dark velvety purple, you felt compelled to speak again. Part of you wondered if he had fallen asleep because you had noticed his chest was rising and falling in a steady pattern. 

“Din?” his name came off your lips so quietly, you wondered for a moment if you had just imagined yourself doing it, but he sat up straighter in his chair and turned to face you, “you’re awake.”

“I’ve been awake,” he said gently, and you bit the inside of your cheek mulling over your next words. 

“I had a brother,” you blurted out suddenly and you could tell that had captured his attention; he brought his legs off of the dash and turned to you, presenting you with his full and rapt attention. Why you felt compelled to tell him this, here and now, you weren’t sure but you felt like if you didn’t get it out you might explode, “I didn’t know him well, I never really got the chance to grow up with him, but he was my brother.”

“What…happened?” his voice was kind and soft, and you knew you could stop at any time, but the floodgates had been opened, and you just felt the need to get this all out. You hadn’t told anyone about this part of your life in ages; sometimes you wondered if it had actually happened.

“He was taken away from when I was very little, only a few years old,” you admitted. You could remember the day so well, how happy and upset your parents had been, all the tears that had run down their cheeks, but you hadn’t understood what it had all meant back then. You were still young and innocent back, unmarred by the harsh reality of the cruel world you lived in. 

Your Mandalorian companion was silent, trying to piece everything together as he waited for you to continue. If only your story ended then, if only it was that easy. You leaned back in your chair and rested your head in your hand, letting out a small sigh, “my brother...he went with the Jedi that came for him. He trained to become one of their Order. He was force sensitive you see, back when it wasn’t something to be feared or hunted. I only saw him a few more times after that. I was soon taken away from my parents as well, they lost bother their children in just a small amount of time. 

“Mandalore has a long history of those who are force sensitive,” he commented quietly and you shrugged. You’d heard the stories growing up, most as they were spat at you, your captors viciously telling you that your brother was a traitor to the Mandalore and its ancient history. 

“I know, people were constantly ether in awe of him or they despised him for it. They told me that he and his Master had tried to come after me several times, to set me free, but it had never worked, obviously. The next time I heard of him he was dead, executed at the hands of the Clone Troopers who had been sworn to help protect him. My parents had lost both of their children. I had lost everything, but then again so had my brother. He lost his life trying to save others, betrayed by those had been sworn to aid him. I never knew what happened to my parents after that. I’m sure they’re dead by now,” you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of nose trying to keep your composure. 

It was hard to revisit all of these memories, and they brought so many feelings you had pushed deep within your for years. But something had compelled you to tell him all of these things, knowing it was safe to do so, knowing that he’d never betray your trust or use these types of things against you. 

He didn’t feel the need to make a comment, knowing it was unnecessary, and it all honesty, what good would an I’m sorry do for you now? You had an inkling that perhaps his own story wasn’t so different from yours. The forces that were in play in the galaxy often found a way to bring the same souls together. Instead, he slowly pulled off his tan leather gloves and set them down before reaching over and touching your cheek gently. His thumb delicately swiped away the single tear that had fallen from your eye. He let his hand linger them there for some time, much longer than etiquette dictated, his touch warming up your whole face. 

“I-I’m sorry for just laying this all on you,” you took his hand in yours and removed it from your cheek, keeping it in your hands and giving it a gentle squeeze, “it just...I’ve never really told anyone else any of this. There’s been no one else to say it to, but something...I just…”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he insisted, and you were sure there a small smile on your face, “I’m glad you trust me enough to you tell you all of this.”

“I do,” you promised, “it’s just...I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately. With everything that’s happened.”

“Have you ever done anything like that before?” you immediately knew what he was referring to and just shook your head. You’d done a lot of things, some great, some horrible, but never anything else like that. No, that was something completely new and foreign, “have you ever considered that you might be...force sensitive as well?”

“No,” the denial was immediate and the idea left a sour taste in your mouth. You never thought about anymore, especially not after the horrors that had befallen your family, “there’s no way. It was my brother, not me. Besides, my name was never on the list...this list that contains the names of all the force sensitive children.”

“What if you were missed?” he suggested, hoping he wasn’t pushing you too far, “there’s always a way, and if it already runs in your family, then it’s entirely possible that it’s part of you too.”

“No,” you firmly, trying to end the discussion, part of you wishing that you’d never even brought it up. Maybe it was a mistake to trust someone so easily, someone that was still virtually a stranger. He didn’t know what it was like, the fear it placed in your heart, “there’s no way.”

“Y/N, I’m-”

“I’m going to go to bed,” you stood up and brushed past him, feeling his hand try to reach up and stop yours, but you just pulled out of his grasp. He made a small sound, one you couldn't quite place. You turned back to him, your shoulders slumping as you realized it was unfair to lash out at him in such a manner, “Din...I-I’m sorry. I should haven’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said as you gave him a teary eyed smile, chewing on your bottom lip, “go get some sleep.”

“You too,” you insisted and he only nodded in silent response. You lingered there for a few moments before leaving him alone again, your mind reeling as you headed towards your small sleeping quarters. There was no way, you kept repeating to yourself, there was no way.

And yet there was a small part of you that wondered, what if?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[nyeddleblog]

Short Skirts and Bright Eyes. [Part 1]

 Pairing: Kyle Scheible x Plus Sized!Reader.

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, cliff-hanger, lots of fluff and mostly Kyle being so out of himself it feels like he’s out of character... But don’t worry because I know pretentious bastards like him and in the next part I’ll make up for this.

Request: is it just like? Timmy only or could it also be Kyle from ladybird cause if so like you could do one where they meet at a gig and she’s pretty average good girl in her shell and they talk and get to know each other but like his friends make fun of him cause 1) she’s a bit bigger than him and 2.) he actually likes this girl and is so beside himself because of her

Summary: You look like a mess, you act like a mess and you’re probably the most average good girl he’ll ever meet, but he can’t take you out of his mind and you bring out the best of him.

A/N: Sometimes I have a hard time trying to figure out the meanings of some words since I’m a Latina and I still have a long path on the English Language to understand, and I didn’t know if by bigger you meant taller, older or a plus-sized reader so I went with the last one... Here when we say “más grande” (bigger) it can be on all three senses so... Yeah...

PART 2.

Kyle wanted to get your attention, he wanted you to find him in the made-up stage and stare the same way your friends were staring at him; but you were shivering, uncomfortable between the crowd, trying your best to camouflage the fact that you didn’t even like your drink, that you felt far too overwhelmed by the loud music and all you wanted was to sleep...

His eyes locked on your face. He noticed that this wasn’t your kind of place and he could almost touch your discomfort, it was so obvious... But then you looked up, subtly throwing your drink to another plastic cup on the floor, and he had to make sure you noticed that he had seen you.

Your face was priceless, you almost raised your hands trying to prove your innocence but he already knew how you felt; sad, miserable, empty... He wanted to know if it was just the people around you, making you feel even more lonely than you already were, or if you felt like that all the time.

You disappeared with your friends at the end of the night. Kyle couldn’t catch you to explain how much he understood but did he even try? 

Besides any psychological analysis, he could only make out your sweet voice two days later. Well, he guessed it was your voice because he’s never even seen you before the party.

You were walking behind this... almost pink-haired girl, in a fast step, to try and catch her. The pain between your thighs was evident, a vibrant pink covering the skin thanks to the friction as you walked. The boy then realized that your skirt was far too short for a girl in a catholic school, and apparently, you were absolutely self-conscious about it, but reaching your friend seemed more important.

Unusually amused, Kyle set his book aside and observed. You seemed apologetic once you could talk to the girl, continually flattening your skirt from behind and groping to make sure it was decent, but never breaking eye-contact.

After what seemed like five minutes, Ladybird walked away and you turned around. It felt like a splash of cold water hitting his face, he felt unusually scared from only seeing your tears streaming down your cheeks, but he still tried his best to go unnoticed.

You didn’t see him, or maybe you just couldn’t begin to care about a stranger watching you cry. Kyle’s heart was hammering against his ribcage, demanding to be let out and comfort you. He surprised himself fantasizing about a scenery where he could catch you and blow your sorrows away.

That was cheesy.

“Hello, Kyle...” Jenna Walton purred on his ear.

He was never startled by Jenna before, but somehow you had unsettled him in ways you shouldn’t be allowed to and now anything that wasn’t ‘you’ was able to get him alerted. Jenna was amused nonetheless.

“Who are we staring at?”

“No one” 

He hummed, feeling suddenly annoyed. The book resting beside him was way more appealing than having a conversation about his growing crush on a girl who was not conventionally pretty, nor has he ever talked to. 

“She’s called ‘[Name]’ and when I asked you who we were staring at, it was only rhetorical. I saw you staring at her at the party, and now.”

Kyle turned around to frown at Jenna, trying to find any literary quote that would save his reputation of a pretentious clever boy. He couldn’t.

Now that Jenna acknowledged his small, very tiny, crush on you, Kyle found himself staring every chance he had. The way you would correct your own manners couldn’t be described any other way but ‘adorable’, and you would blush every time the nuns' would call you out for your skirt. He was secretly so glad you’d kept it that short, though, he wouldn’t be able to admire the rosy skin on your thighs otherwise.

But of course, the day you fell and your whole underwear was on display had to come. To be honest, Kyle couldn’t care less if you used lace or cotton, or if your panties were white, pink or black, but he caught the soaked pad peaking beside the fabric and he couldn’t do anything but rush to help you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He sounded rushed, and alarmed, and so needy he cringed internally. Your tender eyes were welling up with tears as you got back to your feet. Kyle realized that you weren’t only bleeding from... There, since your lip was busted.

“Meanwhile nobody else saw that, yes.”

You avoided eye contact, giving him your best “please stop staring at me because I’m going to start crying otherwise” smile. He ruffled his hair, contemplating the situation. 

“I’m Kyle Scheible.”

Your smile turned genuine for a moment. He knew that because that was how you smiled at Julie. Then your irises found his and his knees became weak.

“My... name is [Name], I’m sorry we had to meet in this situation...”

His memory brought flashbacks of the party and your discomfort. Were you always this adorable or was he just idealizing you already? 

He opened his mouth, thinking of something smart to say, but the tears came back to paint your eyelids of a faded red, and he just had to hold you. You brought up a long-forgotten softness to his body.

“There was no situation more perfect than this one, honestly.”

You giggled unconsciously, drying your tears with the back of your hand. Kyle’s hand started to sweat and he wondered since when did he become this corny mess. Why did a girl like you make him this worked up?

“Thank you for not making fun of me, really” you whispered with a soft tone, and the way your orbes sparkled gave him a heart stroke. “I should probably catch my friends now, Kyle Scheible, but I’ll see you around.”

“You’ll see me around”

And, like an idiot, he smiled your way while you left.

TAGLIST: @velventeenaries​ @lawstudentbydayfangirlbynight​ @midzard-hoe​

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Chapter 20 of Embers ^_^ I did have a hard time with a scene in it, simply because I didn’t have a vision for it, but that is again where having wonderful mutuals is invaluable. Hope that you enjoy! (And I do hope that I successfully proof read it 😅)

Edit: Also! There’s an OC name dropped in this chapter that belongs to my wonderful mutual/fellow boss girl/wifey @/simpingforthisonedeer. Namely Aika or Ms. Tolliver ^_^

Tag list: @simpingforthisonedeer​ @succulentsunrise​ @tokimihyachi​ @jovialnoise​

Keeping in mind that this series will have some mature content, reader discretion is advised. But individual chapters will be tagged for such content. 

Words: 3882

Chapter 20: The dismissal 

Fuegoleon had stayed in his office for the rest of the day, only talking to Randal as he dropped off some documents with a worried and hesitant expression painted onto his face. After all, the news had travelled fast, all being grateful of Solara’s survival, but unsure of what precisely had happened.

But the Captain had given his promise to address it on the following day, which is why Randal didn’t press it; only taking the cape to be fixed, on Captain’s orders. The tattered piece of fabric offered no answers, making him wonder for a brief moment about what to do with the cape once it was fixed. But the conclusion ended up being ‘store it away’.

The work progressed slowly as a result of the turmoil, but in the end, the day did draw to an end, as all days do. Fuegoleon’s steps carried him closer to his bedroom as longing swirled in his chest. I wonder if I should still see her today, he thought to himself before passing a window, seeing the starry sky while everything else was painted in darkness.

His gaze turned away, falling onto the floor as he resumed walking, the lonely echo of his boots bouncing from the walls. No, it’s better that she gets to rest for today. She probably has been sleeping for a good portion of the day, and I shouldn’t disturb her. Memories of her sleeping form returned to him, making his lips tug up. Yes… She might claim to be alright, but she still needs to get checked up. Tomorrow. After breakfast. And once she’s gotten treated, we need to talk about the information she gave me. I also need to inform the squad about today’s events. His train of thought paused for a moment, as he was left to wonder what that would be. I can’t just tell them about what we discussed, but I do need to explain the strained atmosphere somehow.

His bedroom still seemed empty to him, but this time, the solitude didn’t haunt him. And so, he was able to, eventually, climb into bed without feeling the need to toss and turn. Though, he still settled onto one edge of the bed, instead of laying himself into the middle. Somehow, occupying the entire space seemed unnatural for him. The image of her, sleeping next to him, was still vivid in his memory. His fingers inched over to the other side as there was a tender smile implanted onto his face.

Soon, he thought. Soon, with your consent, I’m able to hold you in my arms. But for tonight, I hope that you’ll sleep well. So, rest well… my dear. He hesitated, even in his own mind, while trying not to lull himself into something that still wasn’t quite a reality. Today has been rough, for both of us, but more so for you than for me. But tomorrow will be better. That I promise you. Good night… He thought before his fire arm faded away, his consciousness drifted into sleep.

---

The next morning, he got up later than usually, opting to join the squad for breakfast. To him, everyone was much quieter than usually, but he put it down as lingering worry as Solara still hadn’t joined them. This brings up memories of the attack, I presume, making them feel more uneasy than they otherwise would, he reasoned to himself. Since instances where a squad member would have been severely injured, were scarce. Or rather, had been, if the occasional attacks by the Diamond Kingdom and battles in the neutral zone were excluded. It’s been emotionally straining for all of them during these past months; this past year. Quite frankly they’ve been processing it better than one would expect. So, if this is the point where it all adds up to, I can’t blame them.

Each pair of eyes at the table occasionally shifted to him, wanting to ask him, but settled in hoping that the events would be addressed shortly. Only Mereo didn’t shy away from his form, looking up and down at him. Her brows furrowed, seeing relatively little emotion on her brother’s face.

Leo on the other hand stared onto the depths of his plate, with his chest still feeling tight as it was barely able to contain all of the emotions that swirled inside of him.

“Aniue?”

“Yes?”

“What happened with Solara aneue?” He asked, unable to, and unwilling to, wait any longer.

Fuegoleon gazed to his brother for a brief moment as he formulated his answer. “We had a private discussion, at the end of which I left her to rest and took her cape to be fixed.” He explained factually.

“But… what did she do to get dismissed?” Leo asked, looking at his brother, as worry radiated from him.

Silence fell into the room as they all waited for his reply; each pair of eyes glancing to him with anticipation while searching for answers.

“…Dismissed?” He simply asked with a hushed tone. A frown overtook him as he tried to wrap his mind around Leo’s question. “I never told her that she’s dismissed,” he assured.

“That is not how she heard it,” Mereo commented, her gaze still fixed on him. “Sometimes you don’t need to use the word ‘dismissed’ for it to be evident,” she still continued with a scoff.

“I did not dismiss her,” he stressed, looking at Mereo.

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes blazing while the rest of the squad observed. The air felt heavy as time stood still; everyone holding their breath while simultaneously trying to comprehend the events that were unfolding before them.

“I shall rectify the misconception at once,” Fuegoleon announced, getting up from his seat and taking a few steps away from the table.

“And how exactly are going about it?” Mereo inquired while raising an eyebrow, making Fuegoleon turn back towards her.

“By talking with her of course,” he replied with a raised eyebrow of his own.

“Good luck,” Mereo scoffed. “But once you do find her, tell her that I also need to have a word with her,” she continued.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s probably well on her way back to Thea by now. And unless you talked about how to get there, I imagine that it’ll be quite difficult to find her.”

“She left?” He asked, his voice growing louder and graver with each syllable. “In her condition?!”

“That’s what I was trying to ask yesterday…” Leo spoke, his tone being careful and hesitant, which only made Fuegoleon’s heart miss a beat in the worst possible way.

That sinking feeling once more made a home in his chest; his heart racing, while his mind was on a rampage, simply trying to find answers. He wanted to run after her, fly after her, just try and find her. But Mereo was right. She had a good head start and she could be, essentially, anywhere. It’d be like finding a needle in a haystack. Calm down, he told himself. Think. He thought while trying to push away the flashing images which had terrified him on the previous day; the ones that had made him rush out of his office. No, that won’t happen to her. He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. What has she told me? What do I actually know? Do I know anyone that could give me directions? … Yes. Her sister.

---

Fuegoleon made his way to the Silver Eagle’s Headquarters, knowing that Selena was his one remaining link to get into contact with Solara. If she was still around. After all, there was always the possibility that she too, was gone.

Please, let her still be here, he thought to himself throughout the journey. Otherwise, I can’t… how am I supposed to find her? Maybe, Julius might know something. Or Aika. She has travelled around so perhaps she’d know. But I can’t count on it. I can’t count on it…

As he arrived, he marched down the corridors to Nozel’s office. And he tried to not hasten his steps as he travelled down the route, which he knew quite well as a result of the countless captains’ meetings they had had. But still, somehow the journey felt longer than before. Every turn, every corner, which brought him closer to perhaps being able to make everything alright once more again.

He knocked on his rival’s door, knowing from the prominent mana on the other side that he was there.

“Come in,” Nozel said dryly, recognizing just as easily the mana of his distant cousin. “What is it?” He simply asked, turning to look at Fuegoleon. “I don’t recall there being a meeting scheduled.”

“There wasn’t,” Fuegoleon replied, still standing in the doorway. “I’m here to meet with one of your squad members. Lady Equinox, the… other Lady Equinox,” he specified.

Nozel quirked an eyebrow at the statement. “Why?”

The question wasn’t out of place, but one to which Fuegoleon wasn’t quite certain how to reply. “There were complications during a mission, and it’s my duty to notify her of her sister’s injury,” he stated, not wanting to spill everything, but neither wishing to lie.

“That could have been done by sending a message,” Nozel noted.

“True. But that seems rather impersonal, does it not?” Fuegoleon replied.

Nozel stared at his rival, but in the end only scoffed. “The last that I know, she was training in the courtyard,” he stated, turning his attention back to the files before him.

“Thank you,” Fuegoleon replied turning around to leave.

“Don’t forget about the meeting we have tomorrow, all of us,” Nozel noted after him.

“Of course I won’t,” Fuegoleon replied, giving his rival a slight glare as irritation sparked inside of him. But he was quick to catch himself with the feeling, and was able to snuff it out without anything further. “I’ll see you then,” he still wished, to which Nozel only nodded.

Fuegoleon walked out with his mind once more focusing on the task ahead, instead of worrying about what other’s might make of the situation. But still, he had his pride and he wasn’t about to let everyone know of the events in their entirety.

He found Selena from the courtyard, training, just as promised. Streams, radiating with a silvery glow, floated around her in the air; her hand guiding them to form a network before her gaze turned towards him.

“I was waiting for you to show up,” she remarked, dispelling her mana.

“Oh?” He uttered, halting his steps for a moment. “So, you have heard…” he spoke with a hushed tone as he continued to approach her.

Selena nodded to him, waiting in place until he was close by before continuing with the conversation. “Yes, I did receive word from home. They told me to come back. That my return was greatly recommended, but personally I don’t, quite yet, see a reason to do so,” she replied.

His brows furrowed for a moment, his gaze studying her features for any clues, but found none.

“Actually, I had a feeling that you would come to see me, but I haven’t got the faintest clue as to why,” she admitted. “After all, you dismissed her. Correct?”

“No, I did not,” he stated, making Selena quirk an eyebrow.

“That is not what I hear,” she replied, pausing for a moment. “I hear that she admitted to you about the investigation that took place.”

“You do know about it as well?” He clarified.

“Of course I know about the investigation. I was questioned for it as well,” Selena sighed, ger gaze shifting around. “Walk with me,” she half commanded, half asked while starting to take steps towards a nearby path.

Fuegoleon followed her, as the worry only grew in his chest. It was never a good sign when someone asks to take a walk with you amidst a serious conversation.

“I can’t say that I fully agree with her choices,” Selena sighed. “But I can understand why she did what she did. But the question I want you to answer is that do you know what she did to be under investigation in the first place,” she inquired, glancing to him for a brief moment.

“She used a high-class spell of some kind. Some kind of a sealed spell,” he replied.

Selena nodded, gazing forward as the sound of their steps filled the otherwise lingering silence between them. “For the sake of this conversation, I’m going to assume that you know all of this information already,” she paused for a moment, halting her steps and looking at Fuegoleon. “Even if you wouldn’t,” she continued with a whisper.

Fuegoleon answered her gaze and gave her a heavy nod, making her resume walking.

“Yes, we Theans indeed have access to spells that we aren’t allowed to use outside of Thea… And the one she used,” she paused again for a moment. “She has this spell, of which, quite frankly, I don’t know quite as much as I’d like to know, for personal, academic, reasons… But the spell itself brings… light, more than in the traditional, physical sense of illuminating. The most I’ve seen it do is kindle ideas, or realizations, such that would otherwise be on the tip your tongue, but apparently it also can be used to refire dormant braincells, which in a way doesn’t quite fit the bill since neurological messages are electrical, rather than… though photoelectronic reactions are possible, but the idea of affecting particles the size of ions in the same way as-“

“Forgive me, but what does this have to do with the investigation?” He inquired, wishing to get to the root of the issue.

“Ah, yes, I got a bit carried away,” she chuckled. “And went into too much detail. But, in short: she has a spell that she can use to ease up waking from a coma. In other words, she used that spell to wake you up during the attack. She didn’t know if it’d work, but… it did.”

He swallowed upon hearing that statement, his mind focused only on finding out more. “And… she, um, it was an issue?”

Selena nodded once more, but this time without her gaze shifting to him. “She stated that she saw how the squad was in need of a leader, and though she could have temporarily done that, been a leader to them, as nobility of another country she had no place in doing so, to lead soldiers of another nation, which in itself is a problem. She also recognized how having someone of your caliber fighting in the front lines was beneficial for the Kingdom. It was beneficial for the squad, and the masses in the long run…” She paused for a moment once more. “Though, that’s what it says on paper. And I do believe that, that’s a good portion of it, but her emotions were also at play. So, do I think that her decision was entirely logical? No. Not by a long shot. You see, she did care for you, even then. Which to me is… quite absurd… In the sense that she had never met you, and yet… she let her emotions sway her in favour of the decision that she ended up making.” Selena sighed once more. “But she did what she did, and there’s no undoing of it. And… by doing so, by… waking you up, she… well, committed treason against Thea.”

Fuegoleon stopped in his tracks, gazing to Selena in utter disbelief. His lips parted to say something, but as he found no words, he only shook his head, barely even doing that.

“Technically speaking, there is a subclause that alleviated her crime. The said subclause stated that as long as the actions can be seen to serve a purpose for the betterment of the masses, the crime can be overlooked. The consequences essentially ended up being just an investigation into her reasoning, and if her actions would be likely to result into threat being displayed against Thea. Insight into her reasoning, of course, could be found from her, but when it comes to there possibly being threat against Thea… there was a need for the investigation itself to take place. And since she was able to keep her actions hidden, of course there was no added threat.”

Fuegoleon gave her a weak nod before starting to walk once more, the pebbles of the path crunching under their feet to fill the brief silence yet again.

“And when it comes to… hiding, or lying, about being able to use spells of that caliber, well,” Selena shrugged. “Essentially the same law that keeps us from using them, also forbids us from talking about them. And as I say that, I’m breaking the same law… But,” she sighed. “It is what it is. And as said, I’m taking this as if you know about all of it already.”

“She…committed treason, for Clover Kingdom’s sake…?” he inquired, gazing to Selena with a veil of desperation pulled over his eyes.

“Essentially yes. And she finally broke down and told you about it, probably wanting to come clean about it all to you, because of… Well, quite frankly I can only guess why she would finally have decided to admit it, but that’s between the two of you. Though it seems that she didn’t tell it in the best possible way.”

He stopped in his tracks once more, looking at her with an array of emotions, of which the desire to speak with Solara overpowered the rest. Love and sorrow colliding in his chest, as his heart wept once more, thinking that he had caused her such pain. “Please… Let me talk to her,” he pleaded as Selena turned around.

She stayed silent for a moment, looking at his eyes that showed her nothing but sincere emotion. “She doesn’t really talk to even me at lot… at the time. And if I know her, which is something I claim to do, she’ll want to take some distance and heal. Quite frankly I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she wouldn’t be as much as looking at the messages she’s receiving at the moment.”

“Then let me go to Thea,” he asked, determination and desperation seeping through his syllables.

“No.”

The frankness of her answer felt like a slap in the face; her answer being definite and leaving no room for discussion. He parted his lips to ask another simple question, but as he knew the answer, he quickly decided against it. After all, he knew why. He knew that if even speaking of such matters was considered treason, him asking to visit was beyond it.

“But,” she continued. “I can ask people to talk to her, and perhaps she’ll be in touch soon enough.”

“Thank you,” he replied as a glimmer of careful hope flickered in his eyes.

She nodded to him, ending the conversation, and making the two bid each other goodbyes. But Selena stayed lingering in the courtyard, her thoughts swirling around. You thought that she died, didn’t you? And she thinks… probably thinks that you don’t want to have anything to do with her. You are both getting caught into your own emotions… But there’s very little chance that mom and dad will just let her leave like that. Not given the condition in which she returned. She needs to heal; her body needs to heal. And I won’t start relaying messages for the two of you. It… it really might be the best if you could go to Thea… But, she chuckle to herself, unable to do anything else. You’d be the first person to do so in a decade. If we exclude the members of Ally Countries… and Miss Tolliver of course, with the addition of those that work for her. And… if we consider the events from a decade ago as a “visitation” … She sighed to herself. But, suppose I can ask… Simply because Lara seems so broken.

---

There was a knock at an office door, the sound was firm and yet polite.

“[Yes?]” Said a voice on the other side, welcoming the other in.

Upon opening a door, the person entering the room was welcomed by a sight of a woman with white hair, like freshly fallen snow, her frost kissed green eyes smiling faintly. “[What is it?]” She continued.

The man closed the door, his golden eyes seeming to lack their usual glimmer, and his deep red hair seeming darker than usually. “[Selena sent me a message,]” he only said, turning to her and making his way towards the desk.

“[Is she ready to come back home?]” The woman inquired, her gaze shifting back to the papers scattered on her desk.

“[No,]” he began, making her eyes lock with his. “[In fact, she says that the whole situation Solara is going through, is just a misunderstanding and there’s been an expression of wish to talk it out.]” He sat onto the chair that sat across from the woman, letting out a faint scoff.

“[She’s not seriously suggesting that we send Solara back out there? Not with those injuries?]” The woman asked while quirking an eyebrow.

“[No,]” he shook his head. “[She didn’t suggest much of anything, but she did say how he seems sincere. Though, she did mention that they could discuss it via messages as long as Solara would just look at her CCE.]”

“[She shouldn’t,]” the woman shook her head. “[Between this and the harassment, she has enough on her mind. What she needs, is to take a break from all of it.]”

“[That almost sounds like you’d be about to confiscate her CCE,]” the man commented with a faint smile.

A smirk rose over her lips. “[She’s not a child anymore Arcturus. You know that much,]” she chuckled.

“[I know,]” he replied with a tender gaze, but his expression soon hardened into a much more serious one. “[But I do agree with you. She needs a break. Which is why I thought about going there myself, and perhaps convince Selena to come home as well.]”

The woman leaned back in her chair, thinking about his suggestion for a moment.

“[Do you not approve?]” He still inquired.

“[You know that I don’t believe in babying any of them. They need to deal with their own issues. But…]” she paused for a moment, her gaze shifting to the side.

“[But… given the circumstances…]” he continued, to which she nodded.

“[Given the circumstances, I’m not opposing,]” she sighed. “[Bring our daughter home,]” she told him.

“[Easier said than done,]” he smiled. “[They all take after you, after all.]”

“[Now, now, some of that stubbornness comes from your side of the family,]” she smirked.

“[Fair enough,]” he replied while getting up from his chair. “[I’ll call you once I know more,]” he still said before heading out of the door.

“[Safe travels,]” she wished.

“[I shall, keep the country standing,]” he replied, flashing her a smirk.

[marvelsmalfoy]

prove them right w/ron weasley

summary: granger!reader with the help of Ron, goes to a muggle shelter to do some charity work

a/n: so it’s my first fic, and im sorry if it’s not that good. regardless, thsi is for day 27 of a very harry potter christmas ( from @jamilelucato and @whack-ed), girls i know im little late, sorry. oh, and thanks @jamilelucato​ for the tips on how to write a fic.

it was Hermione’s idea to reunite the friends for somewhat of a muggle charity work. it was the first Christmas season after the war, and she said that you needed to be around people that were happy and hadn’t gone through a war like the rest of you.

you loved your big sister, but sometimes she had some crazy ideas that not even you were able to understand. nonetheless, there you were, three days before Christmas, waiting for everyone to show up at the entrance of a muggle elderly shelter, almost freezing.

“oh, hi, y/n,” said the (not officially) main reason for you being there.

Ron Weasley was standing next to you, wearing a jeans jacket with a jumper, with a cap that covered almost all of his ginger hair, except for the front part that was growing more than his usual hairstyle would allow.

“hi-i,” you had no idea if you stuttered because of the cold or because of the boy, but it was something in between.

“where’s Hermione?” he asked, placing his hands inside the pockets of the jean jacket.

“she wanted to get more food,” you told him, slowly tilting your head towards him, not even noticing you were doing so. “I don’t know why she didn’t already have more — it was all her idea after all.”

“maybe she changed her mind,” said the ginger, “she does that quite a lot.”

there was something about this habit of Harry and Ron that they’d talk to you about your sister like they knew her better. you supposed they knew her in ways you didn’t, but that could not possibly make them comprehend her better.

“where’s everybody?” he asked again, this time, though, the question hurt you a bit.

you had a crush on Ron since Hermione introduced him to you. well, actually, you fancied him before you even had a face to go with the name. when Hermione send you letters about her adventures with the ginger, your heart just melted a little. and you were only ten.

your feelings for him only grew greater with time, and it didn’t help that he was always around you and your family. you were also always around his family — becoming best friends with Ginny Weasley can do that to a person.

but it was just a platonic thing. Ron didn’t know about it — at least you hoped to have been discreet enough.

so, of course, it probably was uncomfortable for Ron to be alone in a cold street alone with you and a bunch of presents that you held in the bag your sister prepared.

“dunno,” you shrugged, “Harry and Ginny were coming together — it was what Ginny told me anyway.”

Ron turned to face you, and you felt your cheeks turn redder than the cold was painting them already.

“uh, I asked if she wanted to come with me,” you didn’t know why you added that information to the conversation, but something about Ron’s eyes always made you speak more than needed.

“they don’t appear to be comin’ any time soon, so maybe we should just get in?” he suggested, raising his shoulders even though his hands didn’t move out of the pockets. “it’s getting real cold out here.”

“guess we should get in,” you agreed, biting, slightly, your lower lip, “I’ve got the presents anyway.”

he laughed at your terrible attempt of sarcasm, and suddenly all the cold in London wasn’t able to take the warm in your heart away.

he walked in first, but not before asking if you wanted help with the bag of presents.

“it’s enchanted,” you said.

“of course it is,” he sighed with a resemblance of a smile.

it felt like the whole thing was an internal joke you didn’t understand, and there were you getting (again) jealous of your sister for being best friends with this gorgeous ginger.

the elderly in the shelter were like angels on Earth. not that you had much experience with angelic mythology, but you suspected angels were kind and smiling beings, just like the elderly you and Ron presented with gifts that night.

must add that you did all the charity on your own, because your sister, Harry and Ginny did not show up. in the first few minutes, you were worried about your friends, but it soon became clear to you and Ron that they probably didn’t want to come up.

to you, something else was pretty clear — they knew. the whole Christmasly situation, with charity work and hot cocoa, along with Ron felt like the type of situation your sister would scheme for you.

not that you had asked — before this night, you thought Hermione had no idea about your feelings. and now, even Harry knew.

oh, Godric, even Ginny knew, and she was, like, Ron’s little sister!

“it’s so nice of you two to give us presents,” said one of the old ladies, sitting by the fire. she had the most beautiful black eyes you had ever seen, so dark but also very tender. “it’s rare to spend a night with the visit of such a young couple.”

your eyes widened immediately, and you didn’t know where to look. instinctively, you glanced at Ron, who gazed at you with the same expression you presumed was on your face.

you raced to explain, “we’re-we- Ron and I are not a couple.”

the granny smiled, her black eyes going from you to Ron.

“such a pity then,” she sighed, “you two would have adorable babies.”

you gulped so hard and so fast, it felt like you swallowed your tongue.

“I suppose Ron’s still gonna have cute babies without me,” you commented, trying to sound superior and evolved, but just covering up the fact that the idea of making babies with Ron crossed your mind now and then ever since you learned how to do it.

the old lady watched as you and Ron interacted with curiosity.

“why do you say that? the very reason our babies would be cute is you,” Ron protested, getting closer to you and sitting by the fire over the rug.

you turned your neck towards the ginger, completely surprised with what he said. you didn’t know if he understood what he was claiming — that you were cute — but you were gonna take it as a compliment anyway.

“me?” you echoed, resisting the urge to place a hand over your heart, “come on, Ron, your babies will be ginger. can you imagine how cutesy?”

“yours will have your pretty big eyes,” he replied, leaning his head.

the conversation dragged on, you two so invested on it, that you didn’t even notice when the old lady responsible for the topic disappeared. later you supposed the woman had intended to be discreet.

within laughs, Ron confided something on you.

“sorry we had to do all the work by ourselves,” he said.

“it was no worry at all,” you replied, swallowing the rest of your laugh, “I didn’t think I’d like it here, but somehow I do? these people are nice.”

Ron noticed how slightly you tried to change the subject, but something was telling him if he wanted to let it out, it was now or never.

“but we shouldn’t have to do it all alone, especially because that was not what we agreed on.”

“hey, Ron, it’s not your fault they didn’t show up,” you stared deep into his eyes, trying to sound as sincere as you could.

if anything, it was your fault. you were the one with a crush.

“well, it actually kind is?” it sounded like a question, but that wasn’t the boy’s intentions. he breathed in and out before continuing. “Harry sat it up. I didn’t ask for it, but he probably thought he was doing me a favour.”

you stared around, taking in the place where you sit. not many old people were around anymore since it was a bit late already.

“a favour? you needed to be in touch with the elderly or something...?”

Ron giggled at your innocence, inclining his head away just a little before completely leaning in.

“I needed some time alone with you,” he explained in a seductive tone.

“oh,” was all your shocked face let out, completely intertwined in Ron’s gaze.

this new information was definitely a three-day-earlier Christmas gift. you never thought Santa Claus was actually gone give it to you, but here you both were, only centimetres away from each other's mouths.

“Harry must’ve asked everyone to not show up,” Ron continued, unsure if your response was positive or not.

“I thought it was my sister the one with the plan,” you said.

“Hermione?” he seemed surprised, “can’t see her helping me get with her little sis.”

you giggled at his mockery.

“she wouldn’t be doing it for you,” you elaborated.

“oh,” he gasped, his mouth forming a pout.

you smiled, “yeah,” and you turned your gaze away from his.

there was an awkward single minute of silence before Ron leaned in again, this time seemingly more confident.

“you know, this only leaves us with two choices,” he said.

“which are?” you opted to not look at him yet. something inside you told you that he wouldn’t be able to finish his sentence if you stared at his eyes.

“prove them wrong,” he said this part with somewhat of disgust, “or prove them right.”

you smiled, finally turning to face him.

“as much as I’d hate to prove Hermione wrong,” you leaned on your knees instead of simply sitting with your legs closed, “this will only be our fault really.”

“yeah? why?”

you placed your hands over his shoulder, suddenly brave enough to do what you always dreamed. but, before, you had to gaze away from him and stare at something above the two of you.

“is it really because of them we kissed if sitting under a mistletoe was our fault?” you teased, smirking pleasurably.

he smirked two, finally moving to place his hands on your waist, and lifting your weight from your knees to his chest.

“our fault entirely,” he played, teasing you before the kiss, “I like the sound of that.”

“me too,” you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

“so...”

“kiss me already, Weasley,” you demanded, and it was all that echoed in the room as the last old lady left to bed, smiling at the young couple.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun

ii.xxxix. (a/m)

a/n: I just want to put out here a general warning because this update shows a very problematic situation...

"The baby is here." It was the news from Johnny. You immediately went to your children and put them clothes on so that you can make your way to the hospital. Miga has been particularly moody the last few days since it was already the third night that Jaehyun wasn't there. You felt bad too and she noticed that. But since she keeps getting tantrums, she didn't make life easy for you. "Are we going to Daddy?" Asked Miga while you were driving into town. Every time she asked about her father, your heart broke again. Your pain was infinite and sometimes you no longer knew how you should exist. You were like an empty shell. The only thing that kept you going was your children. "No, unfortunately, we're going to Johnny and Johanna. The baby is finally here." You try to talk to her calmly, but then Miga started to cry. "I WANT TO DADDY!" She started screaming and crying, but there was nothing you could do. You were glad that at least Sunoh sleeps peacefully in the back seat, despite Migas crying. You wish you could just cry with her. You also wanted to go to Jaehyun. It was the longest silence between you since you were married. Over time, Miga calmed down and you let some music play so that she was distracted. It was so annoying that you had to explain where Jaehyun was every day while you didn't even know yourself. You stop at a flower shop and Miga chose a bouquet for Johanna. That made her very happy again and all the time she talked only about the colors of the flowers. 

In the hospital, Miga proudly carried the bouquet and she knocked on the door carefully. Johnny opened the door with a tired but overjoyed face. "Wow, you came right away." He hugged you happy and you come into the room. Miga immediately ran to Johann with the flowers and handed them to her. "They are for you." With her little arms she held up the bouquet and Johanna smiled. "Thank you Miga." Johnny took the flowers from her and put them in a vase. Johanna was lying in bed and her daughter was in her right arm. Still very small and fragile. "Ohh she is beautiful." You go to her look at the newborn. The little girl barely opened her eyes. She was so tender that your heart softened. "This is Jaina." Johanna stroked the baby's head gently. "Wow all names are with J." You laugh and sit next to her. "Where's Jaehyun?", asked Johnny and you shuddered when he asked you about him. "Uh, he'll still be in the company. He probably doesn't have his phone with him." Actually, Jaehyun always had his phone with him, but Johnny just nodded and accepted your answer. "I'll take the opportunity right away and get something to eat quickly. Can you stay until I get back, Y/N?" Johnny went to his daughter and kissed her forehead. You nod and then he said goodbye to his wife. "How was the birth? How are you?" Johanna was the best distraction from Jaehyun. You listened to the whole birth story and how Johanna is desperate that breastfeeding is so difficult. You were able to understand all of this and gave her a few tips. When Johnny was back, you still stayed a bit. By now you had little Jaina in your arms. Babies made you so soft. She was only a few hours old and all the memories came up when you gave birth to Miga and Sunoh. You fight with tears because it made everything come up and you miss Jaehyun incredibly. "I know you don't want to talk about what had passed. But do you want another child?" Johanna asked you cautiously while you looked at her newborn in love. You smile as she moves her little hands and you nod. "I want it more than anything else." It was true because you love being a mother and you wanted to have an army of children...but you only want it with Jaehyun. Johnny and Johanna looked at each other sadly because they knew something was wrong. But before anyone said anything and opened any wounds, there was a knock on the door. "DADDYYYYYYY!" Miga's eyes widened and she immediately ran to her father. You look at Jaehyun, who immediately hugged his daughter. After greeting Johnny, he came to you and examined the new baby. You had eye contact all the time but didn't say a word. He took Jaina and rocks her a little. And at that moment he was in a completely different world. Everything around him became soft and calm. He blanked everything out and thought about the time when he held his first child in his hand for the first time. When Jaina started to cry, he came back to reality and gave the baby back to his mother. "Well. I think we were there long enough. We'll go now." You get up and take Sunoh back, who was in Johnny's arms. "I have to go too. I still have to go to the company. But congratulations. You have a beautiful daughter." Jaehyun smiled and Johnny hugged him overjoyed.

You walk down the aisle, but you can't take the tension anymore. "Wait Jaehyun." You stop and he turns around in surprise. Miga also looked up at you and clutched on her father’s leg tightly. "I know you're angry with me. But please come home. The kids miss you." Your voice keeps breaking off and your eyes became glassy. And then Jaehyun did something you didn't expect. He takes a step towards you, took your face in his hands and kissed you. "I promise, I'll come home. I just have to record something in the company today, I'll come to you immediately afterward." He looked deep into your eyes and you just nod. When Jaehyun wanted to drive back in the company, Miga had a tantrum again, but Jaehyun was able to calm her down because he promised that he would still put her to bed today. From this, you are waiting for him that evening. Miga was already in her pajamas and had brushed her teeth’s, just waiting for her father to come home again. Sunoh was in your arms and was already asleep, but you didn't want to put him to bed yet because somehow he calmed you down and you were nervous before Jaehyun's return. And then you see from the window how the lights get on, which implied that Jaehyun was coming. It wasn't long before he came upstairs and Miga could hardly believe her luck.

You still didn't know how to deal with him. You were divided with your feelings. For one thing, you were so incredibly glad that he was here again. Second, you were so angry that he just left you. While Miga ran to him, you quickly went to Sunoh's room and put him in his bed. You then decide to wait for him in the bedroom. However, you were so nervous that you could not sit or lie down. You went up and down in the room and wait until he finally comes. When the door opened, you looked at him in panic. Your ambiguity in your feelings hardly changed. You were so relieved to see him here, but he broke your heart too. Jaehyun said nothing, he just came up to you, pressed you against the wall and kissed you. The side of you that missed him so badly became weak. You cling to him so tight that you hint never to let him go again. His body was so close to you and you take everything from him. His hands went under your ass, lifting you up. Your legs clasped his hips and he carried you to bed. You didn't know what was going on with yourself, but it was a strange mood between you. Jaehyun quickly pulled yours and his pants down and it wasn't long before he was inside of you. As he pushed his hips into you, he put his lips to your ear and whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." It was a weird reaction from him and somehow it brought up the side of you that was hurt. Because at that moment you start to cry. You could hardly stop the angry feelings. Your sobs grew louder and Jaehyun stops moving, but still stays in you. "You left me. You weren't there." Tears rolled down your cheeks and you look into Jaehyun's desperate face. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened to me." He hangs his head and sighs. "Please never leave me again. Please Jaehyun." You implored him and you didn't know why you became so weak. "Do you need me?" Jaehyun put his forehead on yours. You look at him and nod. "Yes, I need you", you breathe and you feel how he started to move in you again. "How much do you need me?" He grunted and his eyes grew more serious. "I need you as a husband. As a father ... I just need you so much." You cannot say that this kind of sex was somehow satisfying. It was all so weird. The next moment you hear the grunt of Jaehyun and you feel his cum spread inside you. When he was done are you looking desperately into the void? You feel dirty. Not because of the sex, but because of yourself. You realize how dependent you were on him, on his love and you no longer knew whether it was healthy. Jaehyun saw your look and he froze. He knew you were rethinking something and he hoped it wasn't him. "Y/N, I didn't want to force you ... I just missed you so much." He reached for your hand and looked at it desperately. You don't say anything else, your head felt so full. "I'm sorry. I was an idiot." He begged you, he humiliated himself so that you forgive him. You didn't know what to think anymore. You got up and went to the bathroom without a word.

The bathroom door opened slowly, but Jaehyun didn’t enter yet. "May I come in?" You only hear his voice and you realize how careful he was. "Yes." You only answer him briefly and watch the door open and he takes a step into the room. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have you ... we shouldn't have had sex in this situation." He kept a respectable distance and leaned against the wall. You sit down and feel the warmth of the underfloor heating. "No, it isn’t that. I mean ... we are not like that, we were never like that." You sigh and look up at your husband. "Well, we also had problems before the children. You were never sure of me, we fought a lot." He sat down on the floor with you and looked at you worriedly. "No, it's not that. Well, maybe it's part of the problem ... but I mean ... Jaehyun? Is our love sick?" You hardly dare to look him in the eye, but you had to ask him the question. "Why do you believe that?" He looked almost dismayed at your statement. "You have little control over your jealousy and I forgive you so easily just because I missed you. Jaehyun, I don't think I can exist without you." A tear rolls down your cheek and your sobs grew louder. "I mean, you are always afraid that you will lose me. But then it is you who keeps running away. How can I trust you to stay with me?" Jaehyun looked at you at your words as if he see everything clear now. It was he who was always running and because he did leave you, he automatically assumed that you would do it too. "I think I'm projecting my problems onto you." He put his head back and you can tell that he was fighting with tears with himself and Jaehyun really never cried. "Fuck! The last year has been so bad and it's all my fault." He tries to collect himself and you can see that he was more concerned than he admitted. But at that moment he opened up to you because he knew it was his last chance. "I'm to blame for the whole Suji thing, then the thing with my parents, it seems to me that Sunoh hasn’t a bond with me – I’m like a stranger to him, then the miscarriage and the solo album ... fuck! ... I can make my dream come true, but it's like a deal with the devil. What if Sunoh doesn't recognize me anymore? What if Miga is mad at me? What if our marriage fails? There is so much pressure." At this moment, Jaehyun is more honest than ever. He had never expressed his feelings so much and you can see that he has a lot of problems with himself. You became aware that he had a lot to carry and he always learned to denial psychological problems. You knew that part of Korean culture isn’t dealing much with psychological problems. But it couldn't go on like this. "It is my fault that you are feeling bad. I am your husband, I have to make sure that you feel good. I want to be the place where you can relax. I want to be your home. But because of me, it all happens because of me, you are suffering." He lowered his head and you knew that tears came up him. "I failed." You hear a soft sob and you slide a little closer to him. "Jaehyun ..." You wanted to say something, but then he raised his head again. "I can understand if you want to leave me, even if it would break my heart." His eyes were all red and you were glad that he just see the problem now. You take his hand and play with his wedding ring. "In good times and in bad times. Right?" You stare at the ring for a while and then you look up at it. "Jaehyun, you are my great love. I can't imagine ever loving someone as much as you. We have a bad time. But the good times prevail." You sigh and you put your forehead together. Tears ran down your cheeks and you reach for Jaehyun's chest to hear his heartbeat. It was racing like crazy and you didn't want him to feel so bad. "Do you forgive me?" He took the hand that was on his chest and looked deep into your eyes. "Yes ... but you must never leave me again. I don't know if I can forgive you again." Jaehyun understood and nodded. "But I'm asking you for one thing." You look at him seriously and he was nervous. "I want you to see a therapist after the solo album. You have to cope with a lot and you can't handle it on your own. And I can't take your possessive behavior anymore. That has to change." You were serious. You knew he had to get treatment and work on his psyche. "Okay ... for you ..." He put his hands on yours and he looked at you resolutely. "Good." And for the first time, you smile. Jaehyun took you and you lay on his chest. "I love you...so much." Jaehyun kissed your head and you closed your eyes a little. "I love you too."

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