#her waking up every few hours and muttering ‘i love you’ then passing out right after

[threerandomnouns]

she’s so cute when she’s asleep dndndnms

[colormepurplex2]

The Demon Is In The Details | It's Just A Box

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,470 ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, demon deals, life bartering

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“Wouldn’t you rather be at home and in bed right now? I know I would,” you lament for the dozenth time since your best friend dragged you out into the middle of nowhere.

She gives you a disgruntled look from over her shoulder. “Can you stop being such a spoilsport already?”

You’re not trying to be a spoilsport. You just don’t see the appeal in trudging through the woods in the middle of the night to go bury a box of questionable items at some supposed crossroads just so nothing can happen.

“Do you really believe in this stuff, Dom?”

Dom—or Dominique Portland to almost everyone else—has been your best friend since you were both barely tall enough to see over the kitchen countertop. Inseparable only just scratches the surface of the bond you share. Your summers growing up were spent sharing her small twin bed and waking up to her mother frying bacon and flipping pancakes nearly every morning.

The silver ribbons holding her unruly space buns in place flutter in the air as she spins around and starts walking backward, her mocha eyes assessing you. “You know I do,” she finally says, a playful smirk curling the corner of her full lips, making the piercing in the center of the bottom one glitter in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.

You’ve always found her to be a stunning human being; a bit eccentric maybe, but that only adds to her beauty, you think. The bright lilac streaks in her tightly coiled hair match the overall dye of your own, a sentiment you both think speaks volumes for the kind of friendship you have. Her cinnamon-colored skin is radiant and smooth, and she has a smile that lights up any room.

“Watch where you’re going before you trip or something. I’m not carrying your ass the three miles back to civilization,” you grouse good-naturedly, giving her shoulder a playful swat.

Dominique laughs, the sound echoing through the sparse canopy around you. But she spins back around and resumes stalking through the underbrush, the flashlight in her hand swinging wildly across the trees. Her platform combat boots make quick work of the climbing weeds and thin saplings under foot as she picks up her pace.

She started dabbling in witchy things over a decade ago, mostly crystals, tarot cards, herbs…and now summoning demons, you suppose. When she first showed you her tarot cards and the satchel of crystals her grandmother passed down to her on her eighteenth birthday, you humored her by letting her read your fortune or whatever it is she did with them, thinking it would be a phase and pass.

But, as the years went by and she continued to delve into the mystic arts and varying degrees of the occult, you realized it wouldn’t be passing; at least, not any time soon. It’s become less about humoring her and simply more about supporting your best friend in what she loves to do, even if you find it a bit unorthodox.

“We’re almost there,” Dominique sing-songs, throwing her hands up and doing what you’ve coined as her terrible impression of jazz hands. The bangles on her wrists clack together, creating a tinkling sound that you find eerie as it peals through the quiet of the forest.

“Oh, golly gosh, how exciting,” you mutter to yourself so Dom doesn’t hear your unenthusiastic sarcasm, before continuing a bit louder, “Cool. Think we’ll be back before the sun comes up? I’d like to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow.”

Dominique chuckles, her shoulders swaying as if she moves to some musical beat you can’t hear. “Don’t worry yourself, my lovely friend. I’ll make sure you’re home and in bed long before the sun graces us with its warmth.”

You follow Dom through a tight squeeze between two towering trees. It opens up to a small clearing. The moon, bright and full overhead, illuminates the space like a spotlight setting the stage for a grand number. In the very center of it all stands a giant tree, the star of the show, with its branches reaching far to each side. Its leaves thread through those of the others lining the edge of the clearing.

“Wow,” you mutter in awe. “It’s so creepy it’s actually kind of pretty.”

Your friend claps delightedly, a girlish squeal of excitement echoing from her. “It’s just like Grann described. She told me stories about this place when I was little. I always wanted to come see for myself, but by the time I was old enough, I had honestly forgotten it existed.”

“Until you decided you wanted to summon a demon,” you offer, earning a giggle from Dominique.

“Until I decided I wanted to try and summon a demon,” she agrees, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into the crossbody bag she has over her shoulder.

You follow her further into the clearing. The tree in the center seems to grow taller the closer you get, looking larger than life once you’re under the outer fringe of its branches. The leaves are dark and richly green, and the trunk looks rough, gnarled, and ancient. It must be hundreds of years old, you’d wager.

The ground underfoot changes from the soft give of grass and dirt to a harder, more resistant feel as you move ahead, just behind Dominique. “Odd,” you say, stamping your foot. The heavy thud of solid ground sounds from under your foot. “It’s almost like…” You trail off, realizing it’s exactly what it sounds like.

Beneath the layer of leaves and other debris, there is a faint, hard-packed path. You can see it now, the distinct difference in the way the grass grows. It’s like a path runs straight at the tree before bisecting to either side of it.

“A true crossroads,” Dominique announces. “Full of old magick, a pinnacle of power…so divine. Can’t you feel it?”

Whether it’s of your own accord, or Dom bringing attention to it, you’re suddenly aware of a distinct buzzing sensation crawling its way up your arms and down your spine. It feels like ants skittering over your skin and you’re just waiting for that sting of the first bite.

An uneasiness settles in, filling the pit of your stomach with wasps instead of butterflies. Something about this place feels wrong. Like one false move and the ground will open up and swallow you whole.

“I-I don’t know if I like this, Dom. This place is giving me the creeps.” You no longer find it all that beautiful. If anything, you’re fairly certain the beauty is hiding what is really underneath: pure, unadulterated wickedness.

She pulls a small tin from her back pocket and gives it a little shake. The contents inside rattle around, making you wince at the sudden, jarring sound. You watched Dominique fill the tin earlier tonight. Graveyard dirt, a few strands of hair, a photograph, a sliver of yarrow root, and a few drops of blood soaked into a square of homemade paper fit tightly into the hinge-lidded metal box that once held tiny breath mints.

Dominique explained the significance of each item, but if someone asked you right now to repeat what she said, you don’t think you could. Especially not with the anxiety deep in your gut growing in intensity with each passing second.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a box. You said it yourself, this probably won’t work. Worse case, I get my hands dirty burying this, and then we can go home…where I will graciously accept as many ‘I told you so’s’ as you want to give me.”

You sigh, resigned to let her do this. You take a few steps back, giving Dominique a wide berth as she kneels down in the grass in front of the tree. The jeans and ribbed long-sleeve shirt you’re wearing are keeping you comfortable, but despite that, you shudder as a chill passes over you.

The words Dom mutters are incoherent to you, sounding mostly like gibberish spoken with a thick, in-the-throat accent. As soon as the incantation trails off, she pushes to her feet and brushes the dirt from her hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. The whole time her focus is lasered in on the small mound of disturbed earth where her tin now resides.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The sound of treading footfalls echo around Jimin, seeming both distant and close all at once. It’s the same every time someone decides to disturb the relative peace of a crossroads. First, it’s the sound of their footsteps, then the airy inhale and exhales of their lungs, and then comes the erratic, lub-dub of their heartbeats.

Seems it’s time to go to work. There is an order to these things, a queue of sorts, and it just so happens that now it’s his turn. It’s been a while since Jimin was summoned, though not long enough as far as he’s concerned. With the number of demons combined with the progression of disbelief among the human population, the fewer people who believe, the fewer people who demand deals.

It’s not that Jimin hates his job, per se. He quite enjoys haggling his way through pitiful souls, satiating that deep, internal ache inside himself. It’s a primal necessity, one derived from being at the top of the proverbial spiritual food chain. Yet…he’s found himself growing tired of the mundane dribble of the same tired requests.

Nothing excites him anymore, and that should be a crime punishable by a thousand years in the darkest sanguine pit of his world, he thinks. Being a demon should be fun—it once was. But, after thousands of years of hearing the same sniveling pleas and demanding offers, he desires something more…just, more.

The inside of his quarters in the Obsidian Fortress reflect his restlessness. He’s acquired some of the more baser items from his time up top. A bed he doesn’t need, furniture that would easily sell for millions at auction for its rarity. Jimin has come to covet such things, if only for the fact that he thrills in acquiring something that someone else wants so badly.

The eclectic collection now looks more ramshackle than anything, though, with the chaos of discarded clothing items and trinkets tossed about. If anyone else were to see his quarters, they might think him manic. All it would take is a simple flex of his power to right everything, to return all the clothing to their place in the armoire, and to neatly tuck his trinkets back onto the tansu in the corner.

Yet, he can’t bring himself to clean up. Not just yet, at least, he needs one more moment to enjoy this before seeing to the demanding call from above. The disorder offers comfort in its own way, something for his mind to focus on instead of the dreary, repetitive existence he seems to be trapped in. But, duty calls…unfortunately. Taking one last look around his quarters, absorbing the chaos of it all, he sighs and taps a forefinger against the side of his thigh, and in a flash, everything is as it should be.

Irritated now more than ever, he considers ignoring the call from up top for just a while longer, in spite of himself and the cleaning he just did. Not like it matters either way because whoever they are, they’re taking their sweet ass time getting to the good part. Intriguing, though, that there are two sets of footfalls. Typically people do these things on their own. But, Jimin doesn’t mind an audience. Maybe it’ll even be more exciting that way; he sure as hell could use it now.

It’s been some time since he was last called upon, but even longer than that since he had some genuine fun. Long gone are the days when the people who wanted to strike a deal actually asked for something worthwhile. No, it’s gone from selfless pleas for the health and prosperity of families to coveting millions of followers on Instagram for oneself or something equally as ridiculous—how utterly boring.

Though, he supposes, it’s no wonder humans have grown selfish, considering the world they’ve supposedly revolutionized for themselves. Sensationalized greed and loathing, poisoned with the bitter taste of caffeine and processed foods. Most would probably think that’s a treat to his kind; easy prey and all that. But, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jimin sighs, rolling his head from side to side over his shoulders as if he could somehow rub away the itch now grating beneath his skin. His corporeal form is his preferred, even if it comes with its own set of limitations.

For instance, moving slower between his place in the underworld and up top. It burns as he wills his body to the surface. It’s a pain he welcomes, as a reminder that there is more to life than his servitude, and if he plays his cards right tonight, he’ll get to walk away with a special little treat in his pocket.

As soon as he surfaces, he flexes his power and suspends everything in the clearing in time. It gives him a moment to consider the offering and gather his bearings. Using a hand on the trunk of the tree to keep his balance, Jimin bends down and sifts through the dirt, fingers plucking the small, metal box from the earth.

The giant tree at his back is a comforting presence. It’s seen a fair amount of deals, his as well as others. Just a silent sentinel watching over each morsel of humanity bargained away. Which, thinking of that, Jimin shakes off his mental fog and refocuses on the two women standing before him.

They are both uniquely pleasing to Jimin’s eyes. He would enjoy sampling them both, given the chance. It’s a shame that’s not how these things go. Maybe if he’s persuasive enough, he can garner some sort of pleasure, even if it’s just taking in the smell of a second soul he won’t know the taste of.

Jimin bounces the tin in his hand for a second before thumbing open the lid. The contents are the usual bits and pieces. Well, usual at first glance. But, taking a closer look, he pauses…realizing there is something different about the clump of hair inside.

Sure, it’s purple, which makes it quite unique to begin with. But it’s more than that. Plucking out the hairs, Jimin brings them to his nose and gives a sniff. All reservations about tonight being any sort of mundane are quickly replaced with an assurance of fun and intrigue. Tucking the hair away and slipping the tin into his pocket, his mind begins to swirl.

He thought having an audience might make things interesting, but he never imagined this possibility in all his millennia; sure to be fun indeed. Resuming a demeanor of nonchalance, Jimin leans back against the tree and, with a flick of his wrist, allows most of the world around him to resume breathing once more.

😈😈😈

Mmm. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two little mice come to play?

The voice is a seductive purr that licks across your psyche. It’s simultaneously inside your thoughts and in your ears, everywhere all at once. Dominique is frozen where she stands before the tree, her hands tightly fisted at her sides. She doesn’t so much as appear to be breathing.

You whip around, trying to seek the source of the voice, but your best friend is the only other being you can see in the clearing.

“W-who’s th-there?” you choke out through quivering vocal cords. “Dominique? Dom, let’s just go!”

The few steps you have to take in order to grab Dominique by the arm feel like miles with the way your feet shuffle sluggishly. It feels like you’re wading through thick mud instead of meadow grass.

As soon as your fingers brush her arm, an electric shock zings up your arm, and the scream that bursts from your lungs is a mix of pain and terror. The same instant the zap surges up your arm, a man appears lazily leaning against the tree trunk. You’re certain he wasn’t there before.

Oh. How deliciously interesting. The same voice from before reverberates through your mind and echoes in your ears. One contract. Yet…I taste the essence of two distinct souls. He pushes off from the tree and cocks his head to the side, inhuman vermillion eyes lock on Dominique in consideration.

Ignoring the fiery burn where your skin touches hers, you tug on Dominique’s arm, but no matter how hard you pull, she doesn’t budge. “Dom, this isn’t funny! Let’s go, now!” Your words are edging on hysterical. Tears of fright flood your lashline, causing you to blink rapidly to try and keep a clear eye on the strange man. “You stay away from her!”

Those haunting scarlet eyes flick in your direction, and a sly smile hooks up one corner of his pouty mouth. He doesn’t move any closer, but you’d swear that if your eyes were closed, the sweeping sensation that you feel caressing the apple of your cheek is his fingers. Fear not for your friend, little mouse. It is you that you should be concerned for. In all my millennia, never before have I come across a free soul. Tell me, is this simply a mistake, or is it intentional? Either way, I think I’ll enjoy this…yes, I think I’ll enjoy this very much.

“Oh my god. Holy shit, I did it,” Dominique whispers. Her body sways like she suddenly was released from whatever was making her immobile. The way she stares at the man with wide eyes and a half smile, you wonder if she’s even registered the last few minutes that have passed. “Look! Look, do you see him? A fucking demon! I did it!” She whoops with glee, stamping her feet in clear excitement.

“What the fuck, Dom?! Let’s get out of here!”

You try to yank on her arm again, but she shrugs you off this time, giving you another one of those disgruntled looks. “And lose this opportunity? No fucking way.” She shoos your hands away and whips her phone from her pocket, immediately thumbing to the camera and begins to film.

A solid presence at your back keeps you from taking a step backward. It feels like you’re pressed against a wall. “Dom, please!”

The man takes another step forward, coming within just a few feet of where Dominique is standing. His eyes catch the moonlight and flash like twin blood red rubies. Dark, coifed hair frames his smooth forehead, and his pert nose leads to lips that are full and glossy.

If there ever was someone that embodied all the devious, lust-filled thoughts in the world; this would be them. “A real demon,” Dom breathes. “My very own demon.”

The man—demon—tuts softly, wagging a dainty finger in the air. “I belong to no one, least of all to a sweet, little field mouse like you. If anything, it’s one of you that belongs to me.” It’s the same voice that was threading through your mind just moments before, only now it’s crystal clear and fills only your ears; it’s sweet like honeyed music. A significant contrast to the wicked words themselves.

Dominique laughs. “Me belong to you? Riiiight. Pretty sure that’s not how this works. I summoned you, demon.”

“Be that as it may, you’re not the only little mouse here,” the demon chuckles darkly. He turns slowly, his eyes cutting in your direction. “It is, in fact, your delicious friend here that seems to be caught in my web without a way out. Imagine my surprise when I’m summoned here, only to discover that there are two souls but just one contract. Seems someone made a grave mistake, judging by how she quivers just so.” You watch as the demon comes closer, pulling something from his pocket. It’s the tin, you realize, as the silver exterior flashes in the moonlight.

“What are you talking about?” You and Dominique ask at the same time.

With a thumb, the demon flicks open the small mint tin, exposing the cluster of items within. He pinches the strands of purple hair between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them from the tin. “It’s a shame, really. I assume you didn’t pull these directly from your pretty head,” he muses, devilish eyes flicking at Dom. “A brush or a comb perhaps…one that your friend may have also used a time or two.”

Dominique absently pats at her hair, fingers coiling around a few of the stray strands of purple—the same purple as your own hair—that have escaped her buns. Cold dread pours down your spine and fills your belly until you think you might be sick.

“Dom…tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.”

Her breathing grows erratic, but she provides no response or affirmations for you. Because you both know exactly what happened. You watched as she plucked purple strands of hair from the boar bristle brush. A brush that you have used in a pinch a few times when you couldn’t find your own.

“B-but, she’s…she’s not the one that summoned you. I did. This is my contract, my blood sacrifice!”

The demon hums, tilting his head side to side in a thoughtful, so-so manner. “That’s the interesting part. Well, interesting for me, more’s the pity for you. You see, the blood you so graciously added to this tin here—” he gives the now closed box a little shake “—affords your soul some safety. However, without that…well, an unprotected soul is just so tantalizing and ripe for the plucking.”

“NO!” Dominique screams, throwing up her hands and stepping in front of you as if she can shield you from your fate. “I’ll do anything you want. This—this, um, my deal…yes, my deal is you have to leave my friend alone. I want to protect her soul. You can’t have her, that’s what I want!”

He throws his head back, crowing to the moon with maniacal laughter. The tailored suit jacket and white shirt covering his torso gleam as his whole body shakes. The grass beneath his shiny loafers begins to dance and sway, almost like flickering flames. The sight he presents terrifies you.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” he finally says after his laughter trails off. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket as if to compose himself. “You’re essentially asking for the price of a soul. Which, being generous, is quite priceless to begin with. Anyone would be hard-pressed to give up such a delightful treat. Let’s see—” he  tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and paces a few steps away before turning back “—I think, and mind you, this is being quite nice considering…sixty years would suffice.”

“Sixty years?! Sixty years of what?”

Before the demon can answer, Dominique explains in his stead, “My life. Sixty years of my life in exchange for your soul.”

“In exchange for…what? What the actual hell is going on? Neither of us is going anywhere with this fucking psycho! Let’s just get out of here, Dom!”

Angry tears sting your eyes, but you don’t even care to stop them from sliding down your cheeks as you desperately try to pull Dominique backward. That solid, impenetrable presence is still behind you, but you ram your shoulder against it over and over, grunts of frustration ripping from your throat.

“It’s no use,” Dominique resigns with a sigh. “Neither of us can leave before the deal is sealed.”

“This is nonsense! A cruel prank. Give it up, Dom, it’s not funny!” you beg, yanking at her arm. “Just stop!”

“I can’t move,” she tells you, and you watch as her body sways on the spot like she’s trying to lift her feet but cannot. “I’m sorry, okay? I am so sorry.”

“But, it’s not real. It can’t be real! You said so yourself that this wouldn’t work! Sixty years, Dom, you’ll die!” Desperation colors your words, your voice cracking from the intensity.

Dominique turns her head to look at you, her lips parted as if she’s about to speak, but she freezes once again. It’s like she’s turned into a statue, a macabre wax replica of herself.

Calm yourself, little mouse. There is no need to panic. If the taste of her soul is any indication, she will agree with my terms. Sixty years of her life in exchange for letting you scamper away back into your little burrow, soul intact.

“She’s thirty, if you take sixty years, she’d…that’s not fair! There has to be another way.” You lick your dry lips and can feel the demon watching the quick swipe of your tongue as you do so.

One moment he is a few feet away, and the next, he’s crowding into your space, forcing you back against the invisible barrier behind you. The acrid scent of brimstone and burnt matches clogs your nose, carrying with it the subtlest hint of citrus bite.

Up this close, you’re able to see just how deep red his eyes are and how utterly flawless the expanse of his face is. The pointed tips of his canines peek out as his lips pull back in a rictus grin.

That is my price, human. Your friend gives me sixty years of her life right now and I’ll leave you alone. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, she’ll be healthy and cognisant long enough for you to say goodbye.

“And if she says no, if she doesn’t agree?” you ask in a shaky whisper.

In that case, you become mine…wholly and completely. You see, your friend was careless in her dabbling, naive and truly laughable, honestly. Such wasted potential. A sound similar to a sigh feathers through the explanation, and you can see the demon roll his eyes as if he’s annoyed with the revelation.

“Wholly and completely? Not protected?”

The blood sacrifice that is needed for summoning demons is a way to bind a demon to the rules of the crossroads. It means we’re not allowed to bring untoward harm to those we are summoned by. However, because your friend decided to be lazy and pull hair from a brush instead of from her head, combined with the lack of your blood inside that little tin, well…you’re not protected by those rules. Meaning, if I wasn’t such a nice fiend, I’d have gobbled up your sad soul the instant it was presented to me. Which is exactly what I’ll do if your friend says no.

You can tell he’s trying to make it seem like it’s Dominique’s fault. And, maybe, in many ways, it is, but you also feel responsible for indulging in this madness in the first place. But, it also seems far too simple, like— “That seems like a really shitty loophole,” you say aloud, echoing your internal sentiment. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to try and trick me? I’ve read about demons, they’re known to be liars and con artists.”

The demon reaches out and tugs lightly on a stray lock of your hair, making you hiss in pain. “At least you’re cute and smart. But, if you insist.”

He steps back, putting much-needed space between your body and his, though it puts him closer to Dominique, and your fingers itch to shove him farther away from her. Not that you think you even could. He might look slight in build, but you know it’s not his physique you’d have to contend with, but whatever demonic magick he has.

With a flick of his wrist, a giant scroll unfurls in the air. Several feet of winding parchment swirl around you. It settles on the ground in great heaps, one end held in his fingertips and the other lost somewhere among the waves. He snaps the fingers of his other hand, and Dominique completes her turn toward you, confusion instantly furrowing her brow. Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue.

“What the fuck?” she asks absently as she looks down at the yards of paper covering the toes of her combat boots.

“Perhaps you’ll be interested in this as well,” he says, gesturing with the paper in her direction. “Considering this is your contract, after all. You both should be thanking me for this opportunity, I don’t typically do this. But, with it being a special circumstance, I figured I’d indulge before any hasty decisions are made. Go on, read between the lines. Because, as they say, the devil—well, demon,” he chuckles lightly at his own joke, “—is in the details.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

It’s cute watching the two mortals actually attempt to read the contract. The contract is written in The Dark Tongue, the language spoken by all daemon-kind, but with a little trickle of power, it appears in whatever language is necessary for the reader.

“How are we supposed to read and comprehend all this nonsense? It’s worse than reading a legal document. All of it sounds made up, jargon that a group of kids came up with or something,” you mutter under your breath.

Jimin has yet to learn your name. It would be easy to reach into your mind, or the mind of Dominique—whose name you inadvertently, yet conveniently, provided to him—and pluck it out. But, for some reason, he wishes for you to be the one to tell him on your own. 

Dominique fumbles with a length of the contract, frantically skimming. “I-I don’t know. Look, I’ll…I’ll just take it. This is my fault, my fuck up. I can’t let you be punished for something I was so careless over. It doesn’t matter what any of this says,” she shakes the contract, “because there are probably too many hidden meanings, and…you’re not going to pay for what I’ve done.”

“What? No, Dom. Shut up, okay. You don’t get to talk like that.” Your voice is thready and thin, breaking as you plead with her.

“I don’t have a choice here. I have to make a deal, regardless,” Dom mutters. She moves in close to you, her eyes flicking over to Jimin before she leans in even closer, putting her mouth close to your ear.

It takes tremendous effort for Jimin not to roll his eyes at the action. They could be miles away, whispering, and he would still be able to hear them. He listens as they start to try to devise a plan that involves keeping both of their souls. Jimin can taste the conviction in Dominique, and knows that no matter what, she’s not going to just let you go. Not without a fight, at least. But, she has the right of it. She can’t leave this glade without signing on the dotted lines. Whether on this contract or a different one.

Finally, after several minutes, the contract forgotten on the ground; it seems that Dominique and you have come up with some sort of plan. Jimin tuned out most of it, not really caring one way or another. It wouldn’t change his offer or what is required tonight.

“It’s okay, Dom. It’s going to be okay,” you reassure her in a soft voice. “I trust you.”

As Jimin swings his attention back up, letting the two figures come into focus, he makes a mental note that the tears shining in Dominique’s eyes are not mirrored in your own. Your back is straight, chin jutting out in what appears to be an attempt at courage. It’s delightful to see that you’re not a complete jellyfish.

“So, ladies, are you satisfied?”

You swallow audibly, but your resolve doesn’t wither as you stare him in the eye and shake your head. “I have a new offer, different parameters.”

Jimin suppresses the laughter that fills his chest. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Before we start, w-we—I want…I want to make sure this new deal guarantees that she’s unharmed,” Dominique's voice quivers as she speaks.

One of Jimin’s perfect brows arches in curiosity. “Go on.”

“She’s not giving up sixty years of her life. That is not happening. So, I’ll go with you, but under the condition that you allow us to see each other in person once a week, right here in this clearing for as long as the moon is in the sky. Just so she knows I’m okay.” Your sass is appealing. Jimin had thought you were the more demure one of the two, but it seems maybe he was wrong.

He contemplates for a moment, considering the new parameters. “Once a year.”

“No, that’s not good enough. A lot can happen in a year. Twice a month.”

The fact you’re not even trying to bargain for your life, just time, at this point, is amusing to Jimin. It’s not often he gets to barter. Most humans just take his initial deal and think they have no other options.

“Twice a year,” he counters, interested in what you’ll suggest next, though he can feel himself grow tired with the prospect of the back-and-forth already. His intrigue instantly takes a dive.

You shake your head, accepting the hand that Dominique offers you. Your fingers squeeze around hers as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “Once a month. Please. That isn’t asking much, I wouldn’t think.”

“Once a quarter.”

“No. No. Once a month! And you only keep her for three years,” Dominique states, her tone more demanding than he feels is warranted considering the situation. He pointedly ignores her.

“Please,” you implore, looking vulnerable for the first time since you discovered his desire for sixty years of Dominique’s life in exchange for your soul.

Jimin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “You do realize I could simply end this farce? All it would take is a snap of my fingers—” his eyes blaze with flames for a second as they bore into yours, his voice growing harsher “—and you’d be mine while your friend was left floundering. Do not think to press this any further. I will keep her for ten years and not a day less. You may have your once-a-month meeting and the only person in this sad existence who will remember you exist is her.” He flicks a hand in Dominique’s direction, making her flinch.

😈😈😈

Knowing Dominique will be safe is a relief. But the prospect of everyone in your life ceasing to know you exist is another blow you weren’t expecting. In fact, you were hoping to use that to your advantage. If Dominique could go back and file a missing persons report, it might help somehow. But now…now, that’s another option off the table.

Ten years. That’s seemingly an unfathomable amount of time now that you’re facing it; more akin to an eternity as far as you’re concerned. But, you try to remain hopeful. Whatever happens at the end of those ten years is something you’re not certain you have the mental capacity to think about right now.

You did your best to keep your voice low when you put your head together with Dom’s, not sure whether or not the demon would be able to overhear your exchange. You told Dom that she can’t give up sixty years. That you would rather endure a few years of servitude to the demon in the chance that she could discover a way to free you. If anyone could do that, you know it would be her.

She has sworn to do all that she can to see you released from his grasp. Even if she has to summon every crossroads demon between here and the other side of the world, she’s vowed to do just that. The first thing she’s going to do when she leaves his clearing is call her Grann and tell her everything. You’re confident that even if this demon erases you from everyone else’s memory, Grann will believe Dom regardless.

You straighten your spine, giving Dom’s hand a squeeze before untangling your fingers from hers. “Accept the deal, Dom. This is how it has to be.”

“I-I can’t do that,” Dominique whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Dom, you have to.” You turn to her, soaking in the sight of her beautiful face while you can. “I trust you,” you say the words slowly, enunciating clearly in hopes she gets your meaning. “I’ll see you in one month, okay? One month.”

Dom’s lips tremble as they open to form the word of acquiescence. The one word that will seal your fate and her guilt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.” Jimin flicks his wrist, and the contract retracts back into its rolled-up form. He unfurls it again in the same movement, displaying it once again before you and Dominique. “Each month on this same day, we shall return here for precisely one hour’s time. Whether you show or not is your own prerogative,” Jimin directs that at Dominique before turning his gaze and focusing back on you. “You will be mine. Body, mind, and soul. You will not disobey me, you will not hesitate to do as I tell you, and you will never question me. If you do, this contract will be void, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity making you regret ever befriending this poor excuse of a witch. Is that clear?”

“Ye—” Dominique jolts forward, her free hand slapping over your mouth and cutting you off.

“Don’t. Don’t you say anything. He’s trying to trick you into an agreement that is separate from mine. You don’t have to agree to anything, don’t let him lull you into things like that. Please,” she beseeches, “be vigilant. Do not accept anything he says at face value. Always think before you agree.” Dom tears her eyes from yours, training them on the being watching your exchange. “Hear me, demon. You’ll do well to remember the first part of my demand: I want her unharmed. If she has so much as a single hair out of place the next time I see her, I swear—”

The tip of his nose twitches as his lips mash into a thin line before cutting her off, “Best hold your tongue, witch, lest I cut it out for daring to tout such nonsense. As if I would breach the terms of a contract. She will be unharmed. I may be a demon, but that does not make me a monster nor a cheat.”

Dom gives you one last searching look. You nod, letting her know it’s okay.

“I’ve already agreed, demon. Let’s finish this.” And, so, with a prick of Dominique’s thumb and a smear of blood, it’s finished…all because your best friend buried a box.

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[txrasbae]

no more hiding

pairing - tara chambler x fem!reader

tags - slight angst to fluff

summary - you find it difficult to love tara in public as much as you in secret and she notices immediately

word count - 1,296

A/N - woah guys my first fic...

the first thing tara thinks about when she wakes up is you. she practically worships you and you let her, most of the time.

it was the first sunny day of the year and you just had to take the opportunity to put on a tank top on instead of a t-shirt.

you always woke up earlier than tara so when she blinked her eyes open to see you in something that wasn't usual for you, she couldn't help but smile. "morning pretty" she said, her voice raspy and jumping an octave as she sat herself up.

you spin around dramatically right before walking up to tara's side of the bed and leaning in to kiss her. "mornin'." tara let out a soft hum into the kiss, bringing your head closer to hers with her hand.

you loved kissing her. it would be tragic if you didn't. but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to kiss her in public. you couldn't get rid of that stupid nagging thought 'everyone's looking.'

so when the time came to be around tara and actually be her girlfriend around everyone else, you panicked. every. time.

you stood up straight and began walking back over to your dresser, getting out a necklace and starting to latch it as you spoke.

"maggie said she needed help with some gardening today. did you want to join us after you actually wake up?" tara lets out a soft groan, sinking into her pillow a bit more.

"that sounds like such a good time...if i liked the smell of dirt and the hot ass weather." you couldn't help but chuckle softly at her comment. everything she did was just perfect for you. even when you didn't look at her just the sound of her voice made all your problems float away for a split second and many after.

"alright alright. last time i try to spend time outside with you." you joke back while walking back over to the bed and slipping on a pair of worn-out shoes.

hours passed by that you were away from tara. she had spent most of the day helping train a group of kids.

you were in the middle of discussing some inventory checkups with olivia right in front of her house. a couple of others had been walking around the community, no one specifically focused on you unless you were talking to them. but all you felt were eyes on you.

you walked away from olivia and bumped into daryl, dropping the few cans of food in your hands. "shit" you mutter.

daryl grumbled out some indistinctive complaint as you knelt to pick up the dropped items. your eyes lifted up a little when you saw another hand grabbing some of the cans up and were met with tara's sweet brown eyes.

"hi there" you smiled softly and stood up. "hi" she said in response, matching your tone while also handing you the cans she helped pick up.

a moment of silence fell over the both of you. not awkward silence but a romantic silence as you both stared into each other's eyes.

"headed back home?" tara broke the silence, tilting her head in the direction of your house. you nod gently while speaking. "just to drop some stuff off..."

your voice almost trailed off once tara leaned in to press a soft peck on your lips, her hands gently holding onto the stack of cans in your hands to make sure they didn't fall.

you let out a soft gasp beneath her lips before she pulled away slowly, a wide smile on her face. the two of you began walking towards your house.

"what was that for?" your voice came off amused.

"just wanted to kiss you" she claimed bluntly with a hint of teasing in both her voice and grin. you gave her a soft nod in response and continued walking to your house.

both of you reached the porch and before tara opened the door her eyes shot back to you with a flicker of playfulness in them. you tilt your head in confusion.

"why are you giving me that look...." you mutter out, earning a smile from tara.

"you're just... pretty" she breathed out, stepping a little closer to you. all you could manage to do was smile widely before she pressed her lips to yours.

her hands wandered to your waist and pulled your body closer to hers from below. small giggles were exchanged between the kiss along with the feeling of each other's lips curving into smiles.

it was like your head went completely blank when she kissed you. nothing running through your brain when her soft lips melted into yours.

your head tilted a little, letting her nose fit between your nose and your under-eye like a puzzle piece. her hands were still running up your back while yours stayed holding onto the cans of food right in front of you. this made it a bit more awkward for you two but it didn't matter, you were almost in a trance cast by her lips.

that trance quickly wore off when two cans clattered onto the wooden porch. both of your lips tore apart at the sudden noise.

"shit!" you almost hopped back at the sound but quickly began laughing when tara did. god, her laugh.

your brain was still a bit fuzzy as you glanced around. that's when all the anxiety and thoughts and not-empty-brain-like things came back.

the second you looked to the side it felt like everyone who walked by was staring at you and tara. of course they weren't but it's like your brain was telling you that they wanted to give a judgmental look. without thinking, you picked up the two cans and walked inside your guy's house. the sudden switch in the air caused her to rush in behind you. she could see the fear on your face. behind your eyes. she read you a little too well.

"hey hey what's up? what was that?" her hands reach to hold your shoulders while you tried to pace around.

"n-nothing it's nothing i'm fine i'm good" you quickly reply, panic laced into your words while you paced back and forth.

"you're clearly not fine or good, y/n what's wrong?" she stopped you from pacing, one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder. your breath was a little shaky as you slowly calmed down.

"do you...do you ever feel like everyone's watching us? because it feels like everyone's watching us." your voice almost trails off. tara just stared at you with a confused expression on her face. babe...what?" she questioned, a genuine bit of offense coming through her voice.

"what like everyone's judging us or something?" you nod. "no. i don't...wh-why do you?" your head went a bit foggy at her question. at the entire situation actually. you nodded slowly, swallowing a hard lump in your throat.

she held your waist a bit tighter, a silent way of giving you reassurance. "no one is judging you or me y/n..." her voice was soft and soothing but still slightly humorous.

"even if they were, why would it matter?" she breathed out into a short laugh. one of her hands now rested on your cheek.

"i know...i'm sorry i'm sorry i shouldn't have even worried about it-" you almost started to ramble on an apology but tara cut you off.

"your kidding right? don't be sorry" she pulled you into her body with her arms crossed over your back tightly.

her nose was buried in your hair as the two of you embraced.

tara pulled away for a second to just look at you, taking in your features. she seemed to do that a lot

@midnightsxblues @aurasplanet @emswritingsstuff @rositastara @cosmowitch133

[yourmomsawh0r3]

i’ve got you

tw: diabetes, needles

frankie morales x female wife reader

Frankie Morales always knew how to keep his cool, but today, worry creased his forehead as he looked at his wife, Y/N. She was acting strangely, her usual vibrant self replaced by someone loopy and disoriented. He recognized the signs immediately her blood sugar had dropped too low.

"Hey, babe," he said softly, trying to get her attention. She looked at him with glazed eyes, mumbling incoherently. His heart clenched. He needed to act fast.

Gently, he pricked her finger with a lancet and squeezed out a drop of blood onto the glucose meter. The reading came back: 26. Way too low.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, quickly grabbing one of her glucose gels. He tore open the packet and, with careful movements, lifted her into his lap. He could feel the weight of her limp body against him, and it only heightened his anxiety.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you need to wake up a bit for me, okay?” he urged, his voice breaking slightly. He rubbed her back gently, trying to rouse her enough to get the gel into her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered, and she looked up at him with a faint, confused smile. “Frankie?” she whispered, her voice weak.

“Yeah, it’s me. I need you to take this, alright? It’ll help.” He squeezed some of the gel onto his finger and brought it to her lips. She obediently opened her mouth, and he carefully fed her the gel.

Minutes passed like hours as he waited for her blood sugar to rise. He kept whispering soothing words, stroking her hair, and holding her close. Gradually, he felt her start to regain some strength. Her grip on his shirt tightened, and she began to sit up a bit more on her own.

“There you go, that’s it,” he encouraged, relief flooding his voice. “You scared me, Y/N. I need you to be careful, alright?”

She nodded weakly, her head resting against his chest. “I’m sorry, Frankie,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just focus on feeling better.” He kissed the top of her head, continuing to hold her close as the gel did its job.

After a while, she was more alert, her eyes clearer, and her color returning. Frankie kept a close eye on her, making sure she was truly out of danger before letting himself relax even a little.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice steadier now.

“Always, love,” he replied, kissing her forehead again. “Just don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

She smiled, her strength returning more with each passing minute. “I’ll try my best.”

Frankie held Y/N close, feeling the rhythm of her breathing against his chest. The scare had passed, but the tenderness between them only grew stronger. He adjusted his hold, making sure she was comfortable in his lap as they sat on the couch.

"Hey, you feeling a bit better now?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, thanks to you."

He chuckled softly. "You know, you gave me quite the scare. I think I've aged a few years in the last hour."

She giggled, the sound light and comforting. "Well, I guess I owe you a few extra cuddles for that."

Frankie's eyes twinkled with affection. "I think that's a fair trade."

He shifted slightly, making sure she was settled comfortably, then pulled a blanket over them both. The warmth and the closeness were soothing, a gentle reminder of their bond. He kept his arms wrapped around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Remember when we first started dating and I tried to cook you that fancy dinner?" he reminisced, a smile tugging at his lips.

She laughed softly. "How could I forget? You set off the smoke alarm, and we ended up ordering pizza."

"Hey, the smoke alarm was just a minor setback," he defended playfully. "But it worked out in the end, right?"

"Yeah, it did," she agreed, looking up at him with fondness. "That was one of the best nights."

Frankie tightened his hold on her, feeling the love and warmth radiate between them. "Every night with you is the best night," he said sincerely.

Y/N blushed, nestling closer to him. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"That's my job," he replied, smiling down at her. "And I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other's embrace, sharing stories and quiet moments. Frankie kept a close eye on her, making sure she continued to recover, but also just enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

As the evening wore on, he fetched her a light snack, ensuring her blood sugar stayed stable. They watched a movie, though he was more focused on her than the screen, savoring the sound of her laughter and the way she leaned into him.

Eventually, she started to drift off, her head resting on his shoulder. Frankie kissed her forehead once more, feeling grateful for the love they shared and the strength they gave each other.

"Sweet dreams, love," he whispered, holding her close as she fell asleep in his arms, knowing that no matter what challenges came their way, they would always face them together.

[latoyalestrange]

THE FOOL

p. pascal x f!oc

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: Naela realizes she can’t trust everyone in the acting business. Somehow the only person who makes her feel safe is a man she met yesterday.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Not edited, maybe I will eventually. Some angst, deception, and crying. Once again, this man makes up for it dw.

Taglist: @marvel-sw-lover , @lokislittle , @red-red-rogue

comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

CHAPTER TWO -- TRAPPED

Naela had never been a morning person. Her mother often told stories about how grumpy she was even on Christmas morning. Needless to say, she would have to get used to waking up before the sun.

Looking at the time as she turned off her alarms, she realized she knew only one other person who was awake at this time every morning. She was thinking about her mother a lot last night after talking with Pedro.

In hopes to seek some comfort, Naela called her mom, who answered after the first ring.

“Buenos días, Mija!” Naela clearly didn’t take after her mom in that regard.

“Buenos días, mamá,” she muttered weakly, still basking in the warmth of her bed.

“How is Columbia? Is it everything Abluela said it was?” She chuckled lightly.

“All I’ve seen so far are the walls of my trailer,” she yawned, making her mother laugh harder.

“Pobrecita. Send me some pictures, okay? I have to open this morning.” Naela’s brow furrowed at her statement.

“Where is Sebastian?” She counted on her older brother to be there for her mom since she couldn’t.

“Oh, he’s closing for me now. I can’t see well at night anymore, especially when I’m driving.” Her mothers tone told her not to worry, so she didn’t.

“Okay, mama. Te amo.”

“Te amo mucho, mija.” Naela sighed as she let her phone fall against the pillow. Making her get out of bed at this hour had to be a crime. To her surprise, the silence was short lived as her phone began to ring. oAfter a few moments of hyping herself up, she finally pulled herself out of bed, taking the comforter with her. She groggily clambered into the living space and stopped at the coffee machine. After rubbing her eyes, she could finally read the labels on the coffee pods they had on display. It almost seemed wrong not to choose Columbian Roast, so she plucked the pod out of the chamber and put it directly in the top of the coffee machine. She quickly picked a mug and started brewing her first cup of many coffees she would need during this shoot.

Once it was finished, she withdrew to the pull out couch and sipped her coffee while she watched the sun rise for a bit. She tried to check her social media, but the spotty service was not having it. After she felt conscious enough, she threw on a t-shirt and shorts, since it was just a table reading for the day.

Once she was ready, she started making her way to the studio. It was much cooler with the sun still creeping over the horizon. At first, she thought she was the first one up, since it was so quiet, but once she got halfway to the door, she heard her name.

“Naela!” This time is didn’t annoy her, it actually brought a smile to her face. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the man jogging toward her. “Did you sleep well last night?” he continued, starting to walk with her at a slow pace.

“I crashed as soon as my head hit the pillow,” she admitted, giggling.

He beamed back at her, “Yes, me too. I don’t remember going to sleep— one minute I’m watching latenight telenovelas and the next it’s six am,” he adds jokingly.

“You’re gonna have to tell me what channel that is because I can only call my mom with my phone right now." They laugh together.

"I'm sure she loves that." She sighed, it was true. They were silent for a moment as they approached the glass doors, composing themselves. Pedro quickly grabbed the door first, holding it open for her.

She smiled, "Gracias."

"Es un placer, hermosa" My pleasure, beautiful. Naela looked up at him as she passed through the door, shaking her head at his cheeky smirk. She could hear him chuckle, unable to take himself seriously.

After walking down a long hallway, Naela could smell the coffee. The one open door had to be where it was coming from, so she led them inside. Once she rounded the corner, she was met with a generous spread of breakfast pastries, fresh fruit, and doughnuts.

"Wow, I didn't think I was that hungry until this moment," Pedro pipes up, making the small group laugh. As they picked their breakfast and poured their coffee, more actors started trickling in and doing the same. They eventually took their assigned seats across from Joanna and Boyd, just like last night's seating.

The reading went really well, Naela thought. Some scenes were more awkward than others, like when Javi was meant to be on his knees begging Lucia for a kiss in a drunken stupor. Pedro made up for it by making her laugh with kissy faces.

Once it was over and everyone was filing out to leave, they were about to follow when Naela finally noticed her Manager, Mike, waving them over. Pedro's manger came out of the connecting office Mike was standing in front of and did the same. Naela looked to Pedro, who didn't seem nervous in the slightest. She still had her guard up, but his calmness helped her feel safe.

"We just need to go over some terms with you, okay?" Mike said cheerily. Again with the act, why is he so chipper? She didn't give him a response, she just followed Pedro into the office. She took note of the director behind the desk and the main writer next to him.

"I meant to say this earlier in the reading, but you two and your characters are so important in making this show a success. You are the respite we give our audience after the tragedies depicted in the show." Paul, the main writer started. Naela smiled, but she wasn't sure if that was the correct response yet.

"Yes, exactly. Javi and Lucia, in my opinion, will be the tie between making this a show for everyone and actually getting everyone to watch it." Tom, the director added.

Mike stepped up next to Naela, saying quietly to her, "With that being said, you should know that sometimes actors have to do these kinds of things--" It wasn't quiet enough.

Pedro immediately took a step back, his entire demeanor changing. It was honestly a little scary, on top of the confusion she felt from Mike's words.

"You mean she doesn't know? You didn't ask her?" Mike looked positively terrified as well. His posture shrunk as he withdrew to the wall.

"Am I in trouble?" Naela asked weakly. She begged the tears she felt pricking her eyes not to fall.

"No, no, not at all, sweetheart. Just take a seat," the director answered, gesturing to the leather seats in front of his desk. Her confusion quickly turned to anger. Ugh. Sweetheart.

As she followed his directions, she heard Pedro scoff. She turned to see him storm out of the office before looking back at Tom. Pedro's manager started after him, but stopped when the director held up his hand.

"No, just let him go. He'll come around." Tom sighed and leaned over the desk, making eye contact with Naela.

"So...whether or not you knew what you were signing is not really important. The fact is, you signed one contract for filming with us for six months here. The second contract you signed was for another six months of publicity." Naela was still confused. How would that be a problem? Interviews and internet posts was something she looked forward to doing.

"I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would say no. I wanted you to at least meet Pedro first--" Wait. What does this have to do with Pedro?

"Enough from you. Seriously." Tom interjected. "Naela, I'm sorry this is how your manager let you find out, but what's done is done."

"Can someone please tell me what's going on here?" By this point, Naela's chest was heaving and she was staring to sweat in her seat.

"You and Pedro are going to help us keep the audience engaged in between seasons by being in a PR relationship. Have you ever done something like that before?" She shook her head. Did it really matter at this point?

“I have a boyfriend—“

"Naela, listen. We aren't going to force you and Pedro to do anything crazy. We just need you to be spotted together on a few dates, maybe take each other to a few red carpets and appear on each others social media. Sounds pretty doable, right?" He held out his hand like a peace offering. What else was she supposed to do or say?

"Yeah, sure..." She reluctantly took his hand.

"Perfect. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning." Tom smiled, but it almost felt evil. She didn't understand how she could be tricked and no one felt an ounce of remorse for her except for Pedro, who had no power in the situation either. She slowly gathered herself and turned to leave, glaring through Mike as she passed. The fresh air hitting her as she left couldn't even make her feel better.

"Naela!" God, what now? She saw Pedro jogging towards her once more. "Naela, I'm so sorry, I had no idea--" He looked so concerned and apologetic.

"It's okay, Pedro--"

"No, it's not okay! I can't believe he did that to you." He placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb in a comforting cadence. "I never would have said yes if you didn't want to--"

"Pedro, it's okay. It's not the worst surprise ever." She smiled unenthusiastically.

"Are you gonna be okay?" It was the only thing that truly mattered to him in that moment, and she could feel that.

She nodded, "Yeah. I'll be okay." He looks at her with sympathy. He feels terrible, and she can tell. He pulls her into a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around her. She took a deep breath, feeling safe for the first time in a while. She wanted to let go, to cry and tell him everything she felt but she didn't know him like that. Nor was that the right place to do so.

Instead, she whispered, "Thank you," into his chest as he rubbed her back. He finally let go, but it still wasn't long enough. They smiled painfully at each other before going their separate ways.

Once Naela go to her trailer, she couldn't hold it in anymore. She instantly dissolved into tears as she fell onto the futon. It was the kind of cry where you forget to breathe and almost choke. She prayed for this every damn day since she knew she wanted to be an actor. Now that she had it, it wasn't at all the fantasy she thought it would be.

She didn't call her mom, even though she wanted to. She didn't want her to worry, or worse, tell her 'I told you so'. Realistically, she knew her mother would never have to heart to say such a thing, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Even though she really didn’t want to, she did have to call Josh. She also knew exactly what his reaction would be too.

“Are you serious? You told them no, right?”

Sobbing, she held her phone out in front of her, allowing her boyfriend to see her pixelated and grainy form through the screen. “Babe, you don’t understand, I already signed the contract. My manager lied to me, that’s why I’m so upset—“

“I do understand. Just quit.” His tone was condescending as he raised his voice.

“Right, because I have enough money to fly myself back to America right now.” She wiped her dampened cheeks as she sighed, exhausted from fighting with him already. She heard him start to respond, but he was cut off by her spotty connection. Her screen froze for a few seconds before the call failed entirely. She dropped her phone onto the couch next to her before pulling her knees into her chest as her sobs started back up again.

She just wanted someone who understood.

reblog if you made it to the end!

[thewatercolours]

King’s Quest Ficlet: “The Best Watch”

The guard shifts all had sly nicknames that had been around longer than anyone remembered. The Cheery Watch, the Mosquito Feast Watch, the Buffoon’s Watch. Tonight, Graham had been assigned the Best Watch, two to eight in the morning. He stumbled blearily up the winding stair to the lookout tower, already wishing he had used the extra five minutes he’d spent in bed to don more layers. He  ought to be rested. He had taken to his bed almost right away after dinner. But he had woken up a dozen times in the meanwhile, and as his shift approached his throat had gone ticklish in the worst way. Those five minutes had seemed so worth it until he stepped into the cold.

No one would have guessed it was late spring. The rain he squinted into had all the bite of winter. It drove against his face, his bare hands, and weaseled its way beneath his leathers to soak his clothing.  More than once he checked the folds of his cowl to see if the drops had turned to hail. He had already had enough of it before he finished the spiral to the top of the stairs, muscles aching. Zards, he must be going soft. He had taken the steps slowly, and still he got winded.

He saluted with half-shut shut eyes as he stepped onto the turret. He exchanged placed with the faceless guard, and stepped into the so-called shelter. The rain’s angle made the little roof useless.

He wasn’t supposed to slump against the wall. Anyone on guard duty was to remain as upright as if they were being inspected. But if he was only just starting his watch and he was already giving out? And his throat was making it clearer by the moment that it wasn’t just dry.

Well, he just wouldn’t give out. One night. Not even a whole night. That wasn’t too much to ask. He was a new knight. He’d be judged harshly for calling in now, after only a few days. Besides, he’d set himself a bad habit if he wimped out. Just a few hours, a sunrise, and a lovely morning to look forward too. How quickly six hours went when he was enjoying himself! If only he got into a frame of mind, they’d go just as quickly.

Was his nose getting snuffly? That wasn’t supposed to come right at the beginning!

He planted his feet and gritted his teeth, staring at the tower across the way. He could do this.

Around the witching hour, he lost his stamina, leaned his back against the wall, and thought what wuss he was.

Around dawn, he lost his feet, slid down the wall, and didn’t think of anything.

At some point, he came to himself for a few moments. His body was one, great, sopping shiver, and his cheek had gone numb in a puddle. “Pull yourself together,” he thought fiercely. He raised his head dizzily, let it sink, and passed out again.

—

He half-woke to soft light, and a hand brushing his forehead soothing, over and over. “Sh, sh,” said Mistress Hobblepot, somewhere beyond the candle flame.”It’s just a bad dream.” 

He didn’t remember any bad dream, but it felt comforting to be told so nonetheless. 

“You can wake up if you want to,” she crooned, “if you can hear me.”

He could, he could. And though he felt certain he wasn’t in a coma and could sit up if he wanted to, he just couldn’t muster the will. His throat was tight, and his neck felt like he’d slept on it wrong every night of his life. One ear popped.

The window to slip back into sleep was still open. He shut his eyes again. “I don’t want to,” he breathed, so softly he was certain she wouldn’t hear.

But of course she did.

She took her hand away. “Oho,” she muttered, and he couldn’t tell if she were pleased or not. “Someone’s come home at last. Boy, you scared the gravy out of half a dozen people last night. Open your mouth up.”

“After,” he mumbled.

“You want there to be an after?” She said with a fond sort of sharpness. “You open your yap.” 

She checked him over, grilled him, and rearranged him, all the while taking him on a tour of all the different ways the tongue can click. “Here you are, a healthy young boy, and you’re just going to throw it away for - oh, a medal? Or whatever they give you for standing out there.”

“My pay?” He managed a droll eyebrow lift, which was a bit ruined by the barking coughing fit that followed.

“Don’t get cheeky.”

“Where are we? Your house?”

“Your room. Which I have to say, isn’t the best place for healing up either.” She sniffed, and ran a finger along the wall behind his head. “Pretty darn sure there’s mould growin’ in these cracks. I swear, if we weren’t in a tower, I’d move you down to the shop in a wheelbarrow myself. Get you set up in a proper bed. But we’ll just have to make this work.” She squeezed a dollop of something from a skin bag, and rubbed it between her palms. “You’re not terribly sick, but you’re not exactly going to win ‘prize pig, first place’ either. Hold still.” She rubbed whatever it was over his throat carefully. It smelt unnaturally sweet. “So you’re going to stick to this bed as long as you can, and you -”

Graham gasped as the full impact of the situation hit. “I have to talk to Guard Number One,” he cried, and his tonsils throbbed horribly. “He’ll be -”

“He already knows. Just you settle back.”

“But -”

“Oh, hush up,” she said. But it was the most soothing “hush up” he’d ever heard. “You’ve already slept all day, No trouble’s going to be put off by going now. I’m going to hit you with some rare and miraculous cures (soon as Chester’s done mixing them up,) and you’re going to make me feel I haven’t wasted them all by giving them the sleep they need to work. Got that?”

“Got that.”

(And, er, I think I got that too, because I have to get that sleep she’s talking about too if I want to get better. So, we’re gonna post, because this was never intended as a very good ficlet. It doesn’t do anything unique. It’s just me taking out my whininess on a poor fictional character.)

Thanks for the prompt, @captmickey!

[symphonic-scream]

TELL ME ABT GORO AND MAKOTO TWINS AU. I ALREADY TREAT THEM AS WEIRD ASS SIBLINGESQUE RELATIONSHIP STUFF IN CANON SO GIMME THAT SIBLING DYNAMIC AMPLIFIED

UES OKAY

So they're fraternal twins. Goro is two hours older, as there were complications with Makoto and their mother. Makoto made it out, but, their mom passed. Goro jokes that Makoto killed their mom. She argues back that it was his giant ass baby head that killed her

For the first few years they're, actually good siblings. Hands held as they sleep as infants, babbling at each other happily. Goro cried on the first day of school when he discovered he was in a different class. They hugged after every school day back then

Constantly playing together and shit. There's a photo album that's just them, together. They were inseparable for a number of years

That. Changes though.

By the time they're in high school, they can barely stand each other. Goro, found their father. Hoping for validation and such, he left Makoto's side to do whatever Shido asked of him. Makoto, just kind of tried to focus on improving. Shes spent her whole life being second to her brother. She thinks it's about time she gets to be the one ahead

They spend more time in their own rooms. Silently sitting at opposite ends of the table. Glaring over their dinner. Goro doesn't want his sister to get in his way. He's going to make their father proud, have someone who sees him as an individual, not "Makoto's brother"

And. Makoto just wants someone, anyone to tell her she's enough. But if her own twin doesn't think she's good enough, who else would? She develops a little complex from it

Then, they reach their third year. The Niijima Twins are Shujin's shining idols. The friendly, smiley Detective Prince, and his twin sister, the icy Student Council President. Untouchable, many think

They're verbally abrasive to each other. At school, Goro has the polite tone, but he's mocking her. Using smart words to call her names. Makoto fumes and waits until they're home again to wrestle him to the ground, where they roll around and scrap like temperamental kittens

She calls him a bitch. He calls her detestable

Around the time she becomes a Phantom Thief, after the incident where Sae says she eats away at her life, "WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE GORO?"

Makoto doesn't even make it to her room. She's kneeling in the hall, fighting back the tears, and she hears him stop right behind her. "Dear sister, crying over a few simple words? You really are weak."

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, TO NEVER BE ENOUGH! I'VE BEEN SECOND TO YOU MY WHOLE LIFE, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

They don't talk for a week. Makoto becomes Queen, and. Some sort of confidence in herself starts to bloom. Goro begins to hate himself a little more, as Shido tells him to amp things up. He's more like Makoto than he thinks,

They are such toxic siblings for so long. And. In their Father's palace, Makoto gets her wish.

When the hatch closes, and they hear the shot, Queen falls to her knees, muttering soft "no, no-"

Joker is numb. Makoto is near hysterical. Someone ends up having to support her home. One of the others ends up telling Sae. The sisters fall asleep on the couch after crying for hours, hoping they'll wake up to their jerk brother making breakfast, cursing them out for buying only cheap coffee

He isn't there. He's gone

Makoto's twin brother, is dead

BUT SURPRISE THE THIRD SEMESTER HAOOENS AND HES BACK

They talk it out a bit. After, of course, his sister's crush him in a hug, Makoto smacks him a bit, Saw ruffles both their hair

Goro: did you miss me? Silly question, I know, after I've been so awful to you-

Makoto: of course I did. I'm incomplete without you. You're my brother, jackass. Despite how much you make me furious, I love you. If you die again, I'll kill you myself

It's a slow recovery from there. In Strikers, they take turns driving. At one point Goro breaks out his fake ID, getting them each a can of beer. They sit on the roof of the camper and slowly sip at them, talking civilly for the first time in. Forever

Just. Lots of shit like that.

[findmeinasunshower]

𝑮𝒐𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒏: 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

word count: 1.6k

summary: teddy’s staying with you and harry for the weekend. angst/fluff

warnings: mentions of character death

You don’t know how long you’ve been in bed when you finally feel the other side of the mattress dip and Harry’s arm slip around your waist. It has to be at least an hour past midnight and you didn’t hear him arrive home, so he must have come in by Floo powder.

The exhausted man buries his nose in the back of your neck, making you sigh in content. “Hi,” you greet him, voice heavy with sleep.

“Hi,” Harry responds. He sounds even more tired than you do. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep anyway. Why’re you home so late?”

Harry huffs in frustration and pulls you closer, dragging his fingers up your waist as he does so. “Bad day. We got four more Death Eaters just today.” He pauses. “One of them killed his family before we could get to them.”

“Merlin,” you breathe out. He hums in agreement.

“Yeah. But, we got them in the end.” He pauses before muttering: “Let’s talk about something else. What did you do today?”

You roll over to face your boyfriend. His green eyes are unfocused without his glasses, but a smile still spreads across his face when he sees you. “Today was my day off, so Ted and I spent the day outside.”

Harry raises his eyebrows and chuckles softly. “Did you now?”

“Mmhmm. And Luna stopped by around lunch. Teddy got so excited when he saw her that his hair started changing color.”

“Blue and pink?”

“Yup.” Harry laughs, and your lips curve into a smile at the sound. “How’d you know?”

“Because that’s what happens every time I go pick him up from Andromeda’s. Drives her crazy.”

The two of you share another quiet laugh before settling into a comfortable silence. Your eyes flutter shut at the feel of Harry’s hand tracing the curve of your waist soothingly. “Are you home tomorrow?” you ask before you can fall back into the welcoming clutches of sleep.

“I should be,” Harry responds. “Both Ron and ‘Mione got on me today for how tired I look, so they should be picking up my slack tomorrow.”

“You talk like there’s any slack to pick up.” You chuckle sleepily and tilt your head up to brush a lazy kiss over his chin. “You work too much. Spend the day with Ted and me.”

The feel of Harry’s lips on your forehead and his mumbled “I will” sends you back to sleep.

Sometime later, you wake again to the feel of Harry’s arm sliding out from around your waist. The small movement stirs you into semi-consciousness and you grasp feebly at the air where Harry was just a moment ago. The bed creaks as he sits on the edge and stands up. You blink your eyes open, squinting to see him in the dark. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.

“Teddy’s up,” he replies, and he’s right—You did hear the pitter patter of tiny feet pass outside your door just a few minutes ago, but your exhausted brain had incorporated it into your dream until now. “I’ll be right back, love.”

He slips out of your bedroom soundlessly, leaving you to lay alone in the dark. You consider trying to go back to sleep, but ever since the war, you’re never able to rest without someone else in the room. You blame all of those months on the run.

So instead, you carefully slide out from under the comforter and stand up, ignoring the cold wooden floor beneath your feet. You manage to stay silent as you walk to the edge of the corridor toward the kitchen and peek around the corner just in time to see Harry scoop Teddy up so he can reach the plastic cups in the cupboard.

“Thirsty?” Harry asks with a smile. He shifts Teddy so he’s holding him under the arms and props him against the counter in front of the sink. Then he makes sure his godson’s glass is beneath the faucet before turning the water on. They fill it almost to the top before Harry shuts the water back off and sets Teddy back on his feet.

“A little,” Teddy replies, blinking up at his godfather drowsily. The young boy sips his water and rocks back and forth on his feet a couple of times. “Where’s Miss (y/n)?”

“Sleeping,” Harry replies. You press yourself further into the shadows, glad neither of the boys has noticed you yet. “You’ll see her in the morning. Now let’s get you back to bed, Ted.”

Teddy giggles. “That rhymed.” Harry joins him in snickering softly and crouches down in front of the little boy. Teddy takes another sip of water before asking: “Why aren’t you sleeping, Harry?”

“Because I knew you needed help.”

“Did I wake you up?”

The corners of your boyfriend’s lips twitch into a soft smile. “Nah, I can’t sleep with (y/n)’s snoring.”

Teddy giggles again and your heart swells at the sound. You roll your eyes good-naturedly—You’re glad Harry had the sense not to make his godson feel guilty for waking him, but that last jab? Rude.

Harry stands back up to his full height and places a guiding hand on Teddy’s back, and you take that as your cue to duck back down the hall. You climb back into bed just in time to watch your two boys step into Teddy’s room across the hall, still talking quietly.

“Alright, Ted, time to go back to sleep,” Harry whispers softly, and you can imagine him pulling the blankets up to Teddy’s chin.

“Good night, Harry,” Teddy’s calls softly, and you hear Harry’s feet stop and your boyfriend calls out a soft “Good night.”

Harry stops for a moment in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by the warm glow of Teddy’s nightlight. The young man watches his godson roll over onto his stomach and pull the quilt up so only the tufts of his blue hair can be seen. Harry’s heart clenches with love as he hears Teddy’s breathing even out. He’s such a small, fragile thing, and Harry still isn’t exactly sure how to take care of him. He doesn’t know if he ever will.

After a pause, you hear Harry whisper something under his breath before stumbling back into your bedroom. You wait quietly as he lays back down in his side of the bed and pulls you close without a word.

You turn in his arms so you’re facing him and cup his cheek gently. You can always tell when Harry is feeling fragile, when he needs to talk. He’s only twenty-one, but he already has tracings of worry across his forehead, though they’re outnumbered by the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. His green eyes are still bright and warm despite the horrors they’ve seen.

You nuzzle your head into his chest and wait for him to talk.

Just as you thought, Harry’s arm tightens around you barely a minute later and he says: “I'll never forget the day Teddy was born. Remus came to Shell Cottage in the middle of the storm to give us the news, and when he named me godfather…I could barely say a word. At the time, I thought Teddy would be like my little brother, but after…” He pauses to take a deep breath and you pull him closer encouragingly, “...after Remus and Tonks died, he’s become my son just as much as theirs.”

When he stops talking, you know the both of you are thinking the same thing: The memory of standing in the wreckage of the Great Hall, staring in disbelief at the bodies lined from wall to wall is one that will never leave you. The grief that hit you when you saw Remus and Tonks lying next to each other, hands nearly touching even in the afterlife, sent you falling to your knees. You couldn’t understand how on earth they could be dead.

It takes you a few minutes to choose the right words to say, but eventually you carefully push yourself up on your elbows so you’re hovering over Harry. His green eyes gaze up at you unclearly as you brush the fringe off of his forehead. “I know,” you whisper softly. “I know you blame yourself. But you can’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control, even though I know you do. It’s not fair to feel guilty for seeing Teddy as a son.”

You cradle Harry’s jaw and make sure he’s looking at you when you say: “What happened to Remus and Tonks is not your fault. They made a choice to come to the castle that night, and they knew that they may not make it back. That’s why they trusted you to take care of their son if anything happened, and I can only imagine how proud and grateful they are for you. You gently brush a tear off of Harry’s cheek with your thumb. “Teddy is not an orphan of war like you were. He has a wonderful, loving godfather who will make sure his childhood will be nothing like his.”

A beat of silence passes between the two of you when you finish speaking. Harry’s eyes search yours for a moment before he pushes himself up to capture your lips in his own. You kiss him back briefly before pulling away, knowing you are both tired to the bone from working and caring for a four-year-old child.

“I love you,” Harry breathes against your lips when you pull away.

You kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and settle your head back on his chest and close your eyes. “I love you too.”

[erodasfishtacos]

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

If you enjoy please like, reblog, comment, or come talk to me!

I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

-

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

-

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

-

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

-

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

-

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

-

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

-

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[drakennies]

𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 (𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Draken knows he’s selfish, knows that he should just let you go so you can find your perfect life without him weighing you down, but every time he thinks he’s ready to let you go he finds himself right back at your doorstep… and this time’s no different.

Ken Ryuguji (Draken) x Reader

angst, (slight) fluff, mention of death, spoilers, happy ending

The wind whipped past Draken’s hair, cruel and biting, as though punishing him for his words to you weeks earlier. It was all the more fitting that the tiny splatters of rain were drenching his body, soaking through the already threadbare layers of clothing covering his skin.  His bike roared to life, being pushed harder by its owner as he whipped his way through the streets of the city, lights melding together into one big blur. It wasn’t your fault, even he knew that, but he couldn’t help it when you stared up at him expectantly with those big, sparkling eyes of yours, looking up at him as though he was enough for you – as if he was the only thing you needed to live. It was just too much pressure, the weight of your expectations was too heavy, too crushing for him to ever think a wretched and selfish man like him could live up to them. Especially when he couldn’t even protect her. That girl from ten years ago, the one whose death weighed on him so heavily that sometimes he would wake up shaking and panting, having to spend hours being comforted in your arms before succumbing to a dreamless sleep again.

“Kenny, do you ever think about the future?” Your voice was as clear and bright as you were, gazing expectantly at him with all the love in the world. “like, whether we’ll have kids down the line, or if we’ll still all be hanging out with the gang?”

“…I guess I haven’t given it much thought,” he mutters, heart clenching at the way your smile falters for just one second, before another one replaces it. It was as though you knew you crossed the boundary, not wanting to push him away. He hated it. Hated disappointing you, hated being the one who made you plaster that heartbreakingly fake smile onto your face, hated upsetting you, and hated himself.

A beat of silence passed, then another, and you took a deep breath as though mustering up the courage to bring up what you wanted to say next.

“i guess i’m not being very fair to you, huh, Kenny… you probably don’t see us having much of a future.” And you knew it was a low-blow. You knew that Draken cared about you, that he’d do anything for you, but he would never say it. He’d be the first person rushing to you if you ever asked for help, if you ever even showed the slightest hint that you were uncomfortable, but when it came to feelings – he was the worst. That’s how you two ended up in this situation, this weird, confusing, heartbreaking not-so-much-of-a relationship where you were exclusive but never talked about your feelings. It was just known throughout the gang that you were Draken’s girl, but as soon as you brought up anything concrete he immediately retreated – just like he did now.

“th—that’s not…” he stammered, eyes shifting away from yours, feeling as though your trusting gaze was penetrating deep into the shadows of his heart, into the most honest and vulnerable parts of himself.

“it’s okay, kenny. You don’t need to apologize. I’ll always love you and care about you, but i know you don’t feel that way about me…” and despite the airy way you uttered those words, it felt like every fibre of your being was breaking in half, as though it was god’s cruelty that made you fall so hard for someone who would never see you the same way, who could never give you the family you so desperately wished for. “I don’t think I can do this anymore. I don’t think we should do this anymore… I’ll see you around, Kenny.”

And despite living through numerous devastating deaths, heartbreak, and shattering loneliness, Draken never felt worse than he did in the past few weeks. The moment between you two played on repeat in his head, over and over, until he couldn’t muster up the energy to try to distract himself anymore. Why didn’t he just respond truthfully? Why couldn’t he think of the words to say in that moment? You deserved better, he knew you did, you deserved the world but he was sure that he couldn’t be the one to give it to you. There’s no way in hell could he be that stable, loving husband he knew you wanted. No way in hell could he pick up a mini version of the two of you from daycare. He didn’t even grow up with a stable family himself. But damn, he couldn’t lie to himself, in the depths of his heart he wanted to try – he wanted to try for you.

“Emma… what should I do?’ he murmured into the rain, heart heavy as he debated what path he should take. Does he let you go to find your perfect, stable partner? So you can be happy and live the life you always wanted? Or does he indulge in his selfish desires, keeping you close to him, despite knowing that he may never be able to give you the perfect future you deserved to have?

“Ken, no matter what, I want you to always be happy, okay?” Emma’s melodic voice rang out as she wrapped her hand around the crook of his arm.

“w—what are you talking about, Emma? What is this, some sort of movie cliché? Are you dying or something?” Draken stuttered, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her small figure.

“I know you always put everyone else’s needs over your own… Mikey’s… mine… Tokyo Manji’s… but you deserve to be happy, and I hope you realize that.”

The stinging of tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as he remembered his first love’s words, her encouragement for him to live his life the way he wanted to, not for everyone else, but for himself. “Alright, Em, I guess I’ll try to be happy for once… don’t want you to kick my ass when i get up there, huh?” He muttered, dark eyes looking up to the sky as he wiped away at his tear-stained cheeks. That’s how he ended up at your door, twenty-minutes later, a slightly crushed and very drenched bouquet of roses in his hand and heart beating at nearly a thousand beats per minute.

Here goes nothing. Three. Two. One. And right as he was about to lift his hand up to knock against your door, you appeared, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes widening with shock as you gazed up at him.

“k—kenny? What are you doing here? Wait, is that all you wore, it’s friggin’ pouring out tonight… come i--,” you gasped, immediately flinging the door open and ready to retreat into your apartment to look for a blanket. But before you could even turn away from him, you felt his large hand grasp at your wrist. Fingers stretched over your skin, so soft you could barely feel him.

It was like all time slowed down in that moment as your eyes met dark orbs, and then he reached out and pulled you in towards his chest, your cheek pressing up against his warmth. His hand clenched once, twice, as though his heart were debating against his mind once more, before pressing your body in even closer towards his, reveling in the way you felt against him.  it just felt right. You felt right. It was like he was home around you, and he knew it was a terrible way to feel when you’d be better off with someone else, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try – try to win back the most important person in his life.

Concern flooded through you at his actions. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You murmured against his chest, straining your neck to look up at his face, but his large hand moved up against the back of your head and kept you firmly enveloped against his body.

“I do think about our future,” he whispered quietly, so quietly that if you weren’t pressed up against him you wouldn’t have heard him. “I think about it all the time, I think about the fucking rugrats we’d have, with your perfect eyes, and your perfect heart, and the way you just make everything better without even trying, and… I think about what I would do without you, and… I think about the perfect life you could have if my stubborn ass would just let you go… but I’m selfish, babe. Every time I think I can let you go, something reminds me of you and I come running right back to your arms like a fucking coward….”

His voice cracks and you feel a sudden dampness against the top of your head, tugging at your heartstrings as you realize that your big, strong man, the one that never breaks down, the one that never asks for help, is finally breaking down his walls to let you in.

“I know I’m not good for you, babe. I know that you deserve the world, and that I’m just a delinquent that never went to school, never got a degree, and has more blood on my hands than I care to admit, but I love you, and I need you in my life… please, don’t give up on me.”

“Kenny,” you whispered, feeling him still against you at your soft tone. You reached up and cradled his face between yours, relishing the way he leaned into your touch, seeking even the tiniest bit of comfort in you. “I’m in love with you. I don’t care if you have a past, I don’t care if you think you can’t give me what I need. You’re what I need.”

And gods, the way he perked up at your words, how the darkness behind his eyes suddenly seemed to dissipate, it was enough to have your heart fluttering against your chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, gently, carefully, as though you would break if he pushed a bit too much, and in his heart he knew that he was finally making the right choice for him.

[reidsnose]

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

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the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc

[astaroth1357]

Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer 

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology… 

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain… 

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan 

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs! 

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself… 

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus 

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub 

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest... 

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either… 

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor 

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

[potter-imagines]

Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)

Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about

Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)

Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.

The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.

When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.

Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Hermione looked back to the group and asked,

“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”

“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.

Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.

Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.

“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“

Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.

“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.

“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”

The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.

Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.

“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.

He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.

So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.

Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.

Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.

Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.

This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.

The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.

By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.

Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.

His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.

It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.

For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.

Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.

Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,

“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”

As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.

Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.

Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.

Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.

“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.

Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,

“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”

A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.

“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.

Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“

Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.

Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.

“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.

George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,

“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.

“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”

Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,

“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?

George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to

“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.

George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,

“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“

“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.

Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,

“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“

“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.

George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.

As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.

Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.

For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.

Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.

Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.

As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.

Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.

Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking

“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.

“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.

“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.

“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”

Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn’t see the tall wizard in front of her.

“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”

“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.

For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.

Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.

Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.

At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.

Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,

“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”

Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.

George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,

“Should I leave?”

Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,

“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.

All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.

Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.

It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.

Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.

He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,

“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”

Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.

Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.

George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.

Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.

For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.

“As I was saying, George…”

Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.

Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.

Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.

The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.

Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.

She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,

“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.

“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”

“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.

“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.

Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.

“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.

“What?”

Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.

His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.

The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,

“I’m so happy you came, darling.”

Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.

Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.

Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.

“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.

The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.

Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,

“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.

Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,

“I’ve missed your voice, love.”

Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.

Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,

“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.

Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.

Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.

“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”

“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.

“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.

“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.

The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.

“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”

“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”

“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”

A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.

She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,

“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”

Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.

Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.

“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.

Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.

A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.

They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.

The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.

Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.

Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.

This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.

Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,

“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”

Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”

Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.

“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,

“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.

“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.

Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.

After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.

“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”

Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.

Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink,  Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

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[cheekygreenty]

Familiar - The Darkling x Reader

He was living his worst nightmare. You were in danger because of him. He swore to protect you, to get himself caught in the crossfire if it meant saving you but right now he was useless and you were suffering. He didn't know where you were or who took you from the Palace, the place he said was like a fortress, the safest place in Ravka. You were swiped from right under his nose, most likely roughly and mercilessly and it was all because you loved him.

He never wanted anyone to know of your relationship, you were his most protected and valued secret and he would put his life on the line to keep it that way. But now you were gone and he couldn't bare to look at himself. The promise he made to you was broken and he let you down.

For our love is a ghost that the others can't see

You agreed with it too, knowing that you would immediately become a target if Aleksander introduced you as his. But here you were now, sitting in the back of a moving coach, gagged and handcuffed with a blood and tear stained face.

The ride was more bumpy and painful than it was at the start, having now been on it for at least 4 hours, you knew you were far from home and heading to Fjerda.

The realization hit you as soon as you felt a pair of strong hands at your wrists, holding them apart in the safety of your chambers to prevent you from summoning. The festivities were loud and blocked out your shouts of self-defense and cries for help. That's where Aleksander's protection had run out, right there in your shared rooms.

You cursed yourself as more tears slipped out your eyes, you were a fool who didn't listen to their own advice. Ravka didn't know about you, the Darkling seemingly had no weaknesses until your irrationally tipsy behavior. Tonight's stupid actions would cost you your life.

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

'Enjoying the celebrations?' You held your fourth champagne glass of the night tightly in your hand as you walked up to Aleksander and Ivan. They were all business and no party as the Little Palace roared to life following a day of successful business negotiations. Grisha of all orders let loose and had fun, forgetting the troubles of war as foreign delegations joined in, all in unity for a single night of fun.

The Zemeni were dancing with the Kerch, the Shu were peacefully discussing with the Kaelish, it was a utopia. Your own mind was for once calm, be it the champagne or the vibes you didn't know and didn't care.

'You did a very good job Y/N, I'm impressed.' Ivan gestured to the party and pride filled you. It was stressful and nerve-racking to plan a banquet of this magnitude, but seeing it all accomplished and with no fights made you unbelievably happy.

'Thank you Ivan. Go enjoy yourself, I'm sure Fedyor is looking for you.'

He walked away just as you'd hoped, leaving you and Aleksander alone. You moved a step closer, taking his hand in yours.

'It is magnificent darling, you look magnificent too.' His head dipped as it usually did when he was about to kiss you, but he stopped himself and instead looked around the room, inspecting it to make sure no one was watching him.

'Relax, we're in a large crowd, I highly doubt anyone is paying us any mind.' With the foreign ambassadors here, Aleksander's black attire was balanced out with black tuxedos and suits. He wasn't sticking out anymore, he blended in. You wanted to be with him, and perhaps you could be right now.

'If you say so' Although your words did something to reassure him, his sweet lips were brief on yours. It was a short kiss, but he somehow conveyed his love for you in that quick second before he was back to his usual General persona.

'Alright General Kirigan, I'll go annoy Genya.' You joked and in the process knocked the glass over onto your fine silk kefta. 'Shit'

You didn't miss the look of amusement on his face as you tried to dry the stain with your sleeve. 'Or I'll go and change' you laughed, leaning into his laughing body.

You were certain the moment was intimate and private, that nobody was watching, but a pair of eyes closely watched the scene from afar, mouth open ajar as he found the Darkling's only weakness; You.

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

'Moi Soverenyi what is the meaning of all this?' Ivan didn't expect to be dragged out of bed at this hour and see the General's inner circle crowded around his war table in their nightclothes. He thought the banquet went well: nobody fought or got injured or even argued, it was the perfect night so to speak. But the powerful Grisha still dressed in his silk black kefta was restless and panicked.

His hair was disheveled and he looked ready to kill as he stood with his back to everyone, facing the big map of Ravka. The room was silent save for a few yawns and sighs. Nobody knew anything about why they were there but the tension surrounding their commander was hostile and frightening.

'Y/N Y/L/N is missing from Palace grounds. I think she may have been taken.' Ivan stilled, he was the only person in the room who knew of the relationship between his General and you and had grown to like your refreshing presence. He cared for you in a brotherly way and your disappearance ignited a fury in him.

'I need you searching the streets, interrogating the delegates, anything we can to bring her back.' His face was still turned away from them, and Ivan knew he wouldn't turn around.

Aleksander was beside himself with worry and guilt, he was on the verge of tears. You were gone and it was his fault. His mind was swirling with the accusations and the self-hate, but also with memories of you. Your life echoed around the walls of his head, bouncing off of his heart with a shatter.

He wasn't going to wake up tomorrow next to you curled up in his arms. He wasn't going to hear you rant over breakfast. You were gone and it was his fault.

He was trying so hard to devise a plan to find you, to command his Grisha and be a General, but in that moment he was just Aleksander, Y/N's Aleksander. Worry took up his mind and all the commanding bones in his body yearned to have you next to him.

He turned his head briefly to Ivan, who had the same expression on his face that Genya wore when he woke her up searching for Y/N. She was already out in the streets of Os Alta with David, trying their luck with tracking your jewelry.

'We leave in 10 minutes. Every single Grisha in the Second Army will be used if need be.' If you listened closely, you could hear the edge to his voice, a slight pang of heartbreak and anguish. He was trying to hide it, but alas he was only a man.

The Grisha started muttering amongst themselves and Ivan caught a few words of their conversations and couldn't help but let the rage rise in him 'She's not even that good of a soldier.....' 'Who is that?' 'I want to go back to bed....'

'A foreign dignitary had the audacity to kidnap a Grisha after we let them into our home and you speak of going to bed?'

'Ivan.' Fedyor warned him.

'Moi Soverenyi, with all due respect, Y/L/N was simply a teacher to the younger Grisha, not a high-ranking soldier with valuable intel. Should we really assume a kidnapping happened? For all we know it was desertion. Y/N found a good moment to slip out and escaped.'

Every shade of us you fade down to keep

Them in the dark on who we are

The second those words were spoken by Polina, Aleksander's black shadows let loose. They crept up her legs and around her throat, tightening and tightening until air could no longer enter the inferni's lungs. She was petrified, she was simply stating another perspective on the situation but her General's and Ivan's responses told her her opinion was not wanted at all.

Aleksander stopped himself before he killed her. It was his fault, all of it. His Grisha didn't take this seriously because they didn't know who Y/N truly was to him, perhaps a secret ready to be shared, spoke a voice deep in the back of his head, not your voice though. He wouldn't tell anyone anything until he had your approval. If he ever got it.

'Believe me, Y/N was no deserter.'

'10 minutes!' Barked Ivan at the Grisha when none of them moved from their tired trance.

-----

You didn't know Fjerdan fluently but you knew enough to make out the most important words 'We crossed the border', 'Witch', 'let her burn'. It was enough to drown your hope of escaping and coming home to Aleksander and your Grisha.

You never got involved in any war or fighting, simply choosing to teach the young students the basics of summoning. It made you content and happy, whereas war made you anxious and nervous. Your body had only ever known the luxuries of the Little Palace, the feel of a pen or book in your hands. To add to it, your powers were never used in a defensive way only summoned when you taught, so this was a drastic turn of events to say the least.

Being dragged and beaten by the Fjerdans, insulted in a foreign language, and cuffed so the one comfort you had available to you was useless, brought you to your knees despite the initial training you received when you joined the Second-Army. I am no soldier, I am a teacher.

The border had been crossed and you were officially a Fjerdan captive, ready to sit a trail where you would be found guilty and hanged for your gifts. The chances of Aleksander finding you were slim to none as you tried to remember if any clues were left behind at the scene of your kidnapping. The Fjerdans were quick and concise, neat and skilled, leaving no traces of their presence in your chambers.

The back of the carriage yanked open and let in the evening sun, blinding you in the process. You stopped counting the time after the 8th hour passed and your space was still pitch black. The shadows once were a comfort, now they were simply a tool to frighten you even more.

'Let's go, Witch.' A tall man spoke as he grabbed you by the arm, dragging you as if you didn't weigh anything. You complied, not seeing a reason to tire yourself by fighting back. It was pointless and futile.

You were in the middle of nowhere, a field of open green space with patches of snow. Fjerda. You'd never been anywhere near the border even, but the cold wind was whiplash-inducing just as Aleksander once described it.

'I thought I am to face trial.' You had barely spoken a word in fear in the carriage but the suspicion had rousted you to mutter the words.

'You? I'd rather kill you right here' joked the man and his companions laughed along as if what you said was the beginnings of a hilarious joke. 'You are the Demon's vulnerability, we hurt him for revenge' He pushed you to your knees roughly.

This love is gonna be the death of me

It's a danger

'So I am to die in a field?'

'Not before you tell us everything about the Darkling' then a kick to your stomach shut down your senses.

-------

'We are crossing into Fjerda Moi Soverenyi' Ivan shouted over the galloping horses. Not even 2 minutes after the meeting, Fedyor noticed 3 Fjerdan delegates missing from their rooms in the Little Palace and raced to tell his General who was now fiercely riding his black stallion with a fury no one dared to comment on. He had Squallers feeling the air for you, Durasts tracking your jewelry, and Heartrenderers listening to heartbeats as they all made their way up to Fjerda, the enemy country.

As time passed, the fear rose and turned into a strange combination of denial and grief. Aleksander tried to desperately shoo it away, to rid the thought as it came. You were alive. You had to be.

He felt his crew getting restless and tired but he didn't dare slow his pace. His stallion seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and for lack of a better word, legged it as his master requested.

'General, we think we can feel something.' The Durast and Squaller riding right behind him suddenly burst out. 'About 5 miles northeast, I can direct us from there.' The man in the purple kefta bellowed and Aleksander's heart picked up the pace to a deadly rhythm. He was immortal, but he was sure this was going to be the death of him.

---------

It took every ounce of courage and pride to not give in but you hurt all over. Your ribs were cracked, lungs quickly collapsing, your arms and legs unmoving. The only aspect of you that looked normal was your face

'I'll leave it, let him see you dead in a coffin with only your pretty face as a reminder of how disgusting he is, how disgusting all of you are.'

You had told them nothing, not a word, not even a cry of pain to satisfy them. If these were truly your last moments, you wouldn't go down as a traitor. Your eyes closed on their own accord a while ago, your ears stopped listening when you heard the first bone crack in your leg.

You didn't see Aleksander's shadows flood the field, cutting down everything in his path. You didn’t hear the Fjerdans scream out in pain and fear. There was blood everywhere, not just yours as he ran to you.

'HEALERS NOW' you didn't see him, you didn't hear him, but he saw you beaten and dying right in front of him. His hands traced the side of your face lovingly as a small tear escaped his eye. You felt it, his touch on yours and your lip pulled up in the faintest smile you could manage. He was here.

Ivan was next to you in an instant, attempting to quicken your heartbeat, fill your weak lungs with air and keep you alive but his shaking hands were rigid and stiff with fear at the possibility of losing his friend. The other Grisha watched with perplexed faces as they quickly approached, the Healers running for dear life to get to you in time. You were only a teacher in their eyes, not the General's love or the Heartrenderers comrade.

'Y/N you'll be okay, I promise.' Aleksander left a kiss against your forehead, keeping his lips there for as long as he could before the red keftas swarmed around you and fought to save your dwindling life.

And the dark was opening wide, do or die

You registered his touch, his kiss, before the itching took over and the pain slowly lifted. The darkness was back as a comfort and death seemed far away.

The Darkling only had one weakness, one vulnerability, and only one reoccurring nightmare; the death of Y/N Y/L/N and he made sure to let the world know if you ever came to harm, he would kill anyone and anything in his path.

------

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