#if nothing is rape so long as you can secure a “yes okay fine” then there is no act which is rape

[avicecaro]

many of you (general you) would like to believe there is no such thing as rape or abuse. that no action or behavior or desire has independently the property of being rape or abuse. that there is no action or behavior or desire which constitutes rape or abuse. if rape and abuse are solely defined by the consent or lack thereof from the victim, rather than additionally factoring in harm force and power, then rape and abuse are crimes which exist only in one’s mind, and can cease to exist with proper reframing.

[writersblog20]

Protectors

Henry Cavill x Chris Evans x reader

Credits to gif makers!

Genre: Angst, comfort and fluff

Summary:  Your grandma asked you to go to your uncle to bring some food. You arrived there as he didn’t pick up his phone only to be met with drug dealers. They forced you to take drugs, you took them because you feared for your life. Once you got dragged home your family is furious and asked Henry and Chris to keep an eye on you.

Warnings:  Being drugged, taking drugs, mention of a possible overdose but that didn’t happen, mention of medication, and a quick mention of sexual assault, mention of rape

Words: 4K

Protectors 

You walked into your grandma’s house with your family. Your uncles were there just like your nephews, cousins and aunts etc. You all had a pre-Christmas dinner with each other. Henry and Chris followed behind you and your mom. One of your uncles was their security and the other was in the movie business so when they had to find a place to stay around Christmas your uncle invited them to your house, since that one was big enough.

So when they arrived about 2 weeks ago, you became very close. Well at least the last week, since you were very shy and felt a little starstruck since you were a big fan of them. After that week you got a little used to them around and started talking more and so did they. They were the first to try to connect with you but respected you so they didn’t wanted to push you into talking or anything.

You were a writer and multimedia designer and almost never got in trouble. Yes you did have issues but who doesn’t right? Overall you were a good girl. But like I said after a while you became more open and hang out a lot with them. Watched a lot of movies, gamed with Henry, played boardgames with the both of them etc. On one movie night you even fell asleep against Henry. He did bring you to bed after.

-

You said hello to everybody and sat around the table. Henry and Chris on both of your sides. You got some wine while the boys had a couple of beers like your uncles. You all laughed a lot. After desert your grandma came to your niece. “Nao, can you please take this food to your dad?” she asked her. She looked uninterested up “I don’t want to see him.” you looked down and there was a growing tension in the air. Her father was addicted to drugs. He was for a long time now and was drugs dealing himself. He had a plantation somewhere else and got caught. He didn’t have to go to prison but he lost all his money. He had nothing left and was well fucked for the rest of his life.

“come on sweetie, I bet he want to see you and I want him to know he’s still welcome here.” Your grandma said. You could see Nao almost cry. “I can take it to him…” you suggested. “I mean if you really don’t want to go, or we can go together. I’ll just take the bike.” She shook her head. “no I really don’t want to go.”

You nodded and your grandma looked at you. “Are you sure?” you tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Yeah it’s fine.” You told her and took the bag. You gave her a kiss and stepped on the bike. You did try to call him because you didn’t want to marge in like that.  You had the key but didn’t want to use it.

You placed your bike against the wall and rang the doorbell. You heard footsteps and the door opened seeing your uncle. He looked anxious and panicked. “Y/N? what are you doing here? You have to go!” You frowned. “What do you mean? Grandma sent me. She wants you to have some food since you didn’t show up for dinner.”  He looked around and was agitated. “No you have to go right now!” you frowned again. “okay…” you told him and he snatched the bag out of your hand. When you turned around you saw six guys behind you with a nasty smile. They had tattoo’s all over their faces and hands. You knew exactly who they were.  The drug dealers above your uncle, aka real fucking trouble. These guys run this town and you wanted to leave so bad.

“Wow John, is this your new bird?” the leader asked as he went with his finger across his cheek. “She’s my niece but is like a daughter to me. just let her leave.” The leader looked interested at you. “Nah, this makes it more fun and interesting. Let’s go inside.” You got pushed in the house.

“Oh dear, please give us some drinks.” The leader asked. You nodded and did as asked not wanting trouble. You quickly got your phone out and texted your family in the group app “TROUBLE, DRUGS, HELP!” you texted very quickly before they found out. You got there alcoholic  drinks ready and you felt your phone vibrate. You quickly pushed on the silent button but did started to record everything. And placed it in your transparent back. you gave everyone their drinks and you saw guns in their pockets.

You sat down where nobody was sitting. The leader moved over to you and you kept your head down and your mouth tightly shut. The other guy was placing all the drugs on the table. Telling how many pills there were and what kind. The leader just kept touching your cheek and you felt yourself dissociate. “She’s a nice little thing isn’t she?” you looked at your uncle “Just leave her alone okay?” he didn’t even look up. “So do you do drugs, sweet thing?” you shook your head. “Do you want to try?” you shook your head again. “Speak.” You didn’t trusted your voice right now. “No sir. I don’t want to try drugs.” He leaned a little back with a smirk. “Well, I think you should try it.” fear spread across your entire body. He got cigarettes from his pocket. “Here have one, you seem tense.” He told you. You could see it was weed. You shook your head again. You could hear him chuckle and placed it between your lips, lightning the joint. You inhaled, and when he thought that you had enough he took it back and took a couple of hits himself.

“Do you ever experience such a joy, like maybe when your at a concert and everything feels just right, or you look at your family and you feel happiness. That euphoria? You like that?” he asked you. you nodded softly, already feeling your body growing numb and you felt dizzy.

“Well than you’re going to love this.” he got a knife out of his pocket and put it in a little pouch, getting some liquid on the knife. “Don’t give her that, please. Too many overdose on it and she’s on medication.” He smirked. “Well then she’s going to be my little experiment.” He grinned. “I don’t want it” you still tried as you looked at your uncle. “Don’t look at him, look at me. Just take it. You’ll be fine.”

He got the knife closer to your face and brought it to your lips. You kept them shut as you looked at your uncle in fear. He couldn’t even look at you. “We don’t have all day baby.” You looked up and said a little prayer in your head before opening your mouth. You heard a lot of stories about them and you didn’t want to find out if they were true but you could guess it was. He pressed the knife on your tongue, making a little cut. You groaned from the sting.

You already felt incredibly dizzy, out of it, happy, anxious. It was a rollercoaster. Everyone looked at you and smiled exept your uncle. It took you two minutes to fall down on the couch. You couldn’t even talk anymore, everything you said came out as a mumble. Your uncle had tears in his eyes. The drug dealer placed your legs on his lap. He placed something on your leg, which looked like a transparent band aid. “There you go, it takes longer and more intense now.” he told you. You mumbled. “Well, that’s 300 dollars for you.” he told you. “I only have 10 dollars.” You mumbled.

He rubbed your legs “well that’s not going to do the trick sweetheart, you have to pay one way….. or another….” He told you as he continued rubbing. Your whole body felt heavy and slumped. You couldn’t move at all. “Let me just pay for it.” your uncle got up and shove 300 dollars in his hand.  “Well because you are cockblocking me, it’ll be 200 more.” he told your uncle as he kept rubbing your legs underneath your pants. “Are you serious man?” he asked him. “Oh I mean, I can just take her here, or in your room. Maybe everyone can take rounds. It’s up to you really.”  Your uncle huffed and placed more money in his hand.

The man smirked and kicked your leg off, making you fall hard on the ground, your head hitting the table in the fall. You had a nasty cut on your head. The man looks amused. “Always nice to do business with you John. I’ll hear it if she makes it or not.” Everyone walked out of the door.

Your uncle picked you up and got in the car to drive you to your house. He texted your mom that he brought you home, hoping that they still would be at your grandma’s and that they wouldn’t notice anything, obviously not knowing about your text message.

Your whole family gathered at your home, worried and ready to fight. Only your uncles were there with your mom, Henry and Chris, not wanting to upset anyone more than they already were. You got more out of it with the moment. Not even able to talk. Your uncles opened the door, stopping John right in his tracks as he held you up, your head was down. They immediately saw and gave john a furious look. They took you over and got you inside. They pushed John inside, forcefully.

Your mom was in shock, just like Chris, Henry and everyone else. They placed you on the couch. “Sweetheart? Y/N/N? Please say something?” you mumbled. You couldn’t even open your eyes and everything was so intense. You could remember everything though but your feeling felt off and you felt happy but sad as well.  Henry sat next to you as your mom asked and you rested your head on his lap, he looked at the cut. Chris sat by your feet.

“They gave her drugs.” They forced her. “I tried to stop it but they wouldn’t” Your mom was furious just like your uncles. “well, I got her home, she just need to get off her high now….. Besides I saved her… so this isn’t entirely my fault.” Your mom got more furious “What did you say? Save her from what?” she asked him. “ Well, they wanted to rape her… I paid them 500 dollars so they wouldn’t… So in fact you owe me.” everyone looked furious. Chris and Henry couldn’t even believe what they just heard. Chris had to keep his jaws tight just like Henry.

Your mom walked slowly and dangerously up to your uncle. He got intimidated and your uncles stood ready to get her off of him. She gave him a hard slap. “What drugs did she get??” she asked him. He gave her the name and called the ambulance. They gave instructions and asked a lot of questions. Henry placed his hand on your forehead, and you leaned into his touch, finally feeling safe again. “She’s burning up.” Henry told your mom and your uncle got you a wet clothe to keep on your head. He gave it to Henry and he dapped it in your neck, getting the sweat a little off of you before placing it on your head.

Chris noticed something on your leg. He frowned and slowly raised it. “Ehm, did she have a band aid of some sort on her leg before?” Chris asked. Everyone turned around. “Shit I forgot they put that on her.” Chris quickly pulled it off of you. Your mom looked at your uncle “What was that?” she asked angry. “Well, it slowly puts more drugs in her system.” Your mom was in shock.

Everyone was worried but Henry and Chris didn’t want to let go of you. You laid there lifeless, but still alive, in their arms. The ambulance arrived and did all kinds of tests on you, and talked to you. Henry and Chris wanted to get out of the way but you grabbed Henry tightly. “Please don’t leave me!” you said in panic. It was still a mumble but he could understand. He sat down again as they saw that your heart rate was picking up by a mile. He held you tightly, “I’m not going anywhere, I got you. You’re safe now.” you slowly calmed down as Henry went with his hand over your hair.

“who did this to you sweetheart?” the ambulance woman asked you as he cleaned and stitched your cut, your head still resting on Henry. “Phone….” you mumbled. Everyone frowned. “Phone? You want your phone honey?” Chris asked. You nodded. Everyone looked confused while Chris got it out of your bag and gave it to you. You shakily gave it to the woman. “filmed everything.” You said mumbling. Henry knew your code and unlocked it. he chuckled and looked at you in admiration. “God you are so smart.” He told you and gave the phone to the woman. “she got everything on film.” Henry told everyone and they got a sad smile. The ambulance checked everything but it seemed that you were going to be alright, well besides the trauma and everything. You did have to go back to the hospital when you got all cleared and there would be a therapist ready if you wanted and needed to.

“Henry, Chris, could you take her please to bed now and maybe stay with her? So you can both keep an eye on her.” they nodded. “Oh she can get sick and emotional because of everything so just keep that in mind.” The ambulance woman said and gave a couple of other tips. Henry picked you carefully up and walked easily upstairs with you, Chris behind.

He placed you carefully in your bed. Chris got some joggings on and a shirt before crawling in behind you. You lazily looked at him, clearly under the influence. He gave you a sad smile. “Cuddle?” he looked surprised at you. “You want to cuddle baby?” you nodded and looked at Henry, who was changing but listening. He crawled in and you laid down on his chest as Chris spooned you. Henry went over his hand over your head.

Chris and Henry glanced at each other in worry. They cared and loved you and nobody deserved this but definitely not you. You were fighting against your heavy eyelids. “Just give in sweetheart. Your safe now. You can rest now, we’ve got you.” Henry coed at you. “I don’t want to, dizzy.” You couldn’t make full sentences but they still understood you. Chris drew circles on your back as he held you tight against his chest as a little spoon while Henry went over your hair and softly played with it and started massaging your head. Henry and Chris started to talk sweet nothings to you, so you could focus on that.

It didn’t took long before your eyelids became too heavy but all of a sudden everything started to turn and twist and going fast, making you sick. You opened your eyes and shot up in bed. Shocking Henry and Chris. You stumbled over Henry, falling off the bed in the process. You crawled towards the door but fell again. Henry and Chris shot up as well and quickly made their way to you. Henry picked you up and walked you to the bathroom. You threw up in the toilet, letting everything out. Chris held your hair back as Henry rubbed your back.

Once you were done, they helped you back to bed. This time, you were exhausted and felt horrible. “I can braid your hair if you want to? Might be more comfortable.” Chris asked you and you nodded. You started to cry and Henry noticed. “Oh baby, come here.” He said as he came closer in front of you. You had a complete meltdown and started to breath uncontrollably. He picked you up and placed you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his neck, as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He held you tightly and Chris looked at Henry. Henry nodded and Chris went further with braiding.

“You’re safe now. Nobody can or will hurt you here. We got you princess.” He told you softly. “Just focus on my breathing. There you go. You’re doing amazing puppy.” You completely broke down and they both kept talking sweet things to you until you did calm down. Once Chris was done braiding and you got calm down, they lied you down again. You clung to them for dear life. This time you laid on Chris’s chest and Henry held you very tightly and it was in that moment, that you felt safe and protected again.

~next morning~

You shot up right in bed again from a nightmare this time. Your head was heavy and yet felt very light at the same time. Still very dizzy, grumpy, angry, all in all quite the mess. Henry and Chris woke up from the sudden change in position and looked at you as you sat straight up in bed. You didn’t say anything, just looked forward. Chris and Henry looked at each other in worry. “honey?” Chris asked carefully. Everything was slow. You felt so much anger towards your uncle, he knew you were very vulnerable for addiction. You heard voices downstairs and tried to make them out. You felt a hand on your back, making you jump a little. Henry got his hand back as soon as he saw that it scared you. Now they were really worried. You looked at the door when you heard a familiar voice that you rather didn’t want to hear right now. Uncle John.

You jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. Chris and Henry bolted behind you. You ran downstairs full from adrenaline. Your uncles were so surprised that it didn’t hit them what was happening. You saw him and attacked him. You pushed him down and tried to hit him. You started to cry and scream. Henry got to you and pulled you back by your waist. He pulled you off of your uncle. You didn’t really hurt him but it was more a shock to him. “Shss it’s okay, take it easy, we got you. focus on me not him.” Henry told you but you were in a pure state of rage, even trying to fight Henry right now. Chris and your other uncle stepped out and carried you out of the room, placing you down in the kitchen.

When they let go of you and set you down, thinking you calmed down, you tried to bolt again “Y/N please stop.” Chris told you as he held you. “We’re not going to let go unless you calm down right now, I’m sorry sweetheart.” Henry told you. Your uncle covering the door so you couldn’t get out.

Your heard was pounding out of your chest and Henry noticed how fast it was going. He carefully made eye contact with you and looked deeply in your eyes, to find that calm, shy and sweet girl again. “Hey sweetheart. Where’s that girl? That girl who loves to write and read books? Who loves to photograph? I know she’s still there. I know you’re mad and you have every right to be. But this is not you. I’m sure of it. Come back to us sweetheart. I want you to read those fantasy books to me again. Remember that?” he talked so soft and loving to you. Your eyes started to soften and he could see that you were you again. He broke down your walls, you let him break your walls.

Tears started to slip and he immediately pulled you into a hug. “I got you, you’re safe, you’re going to be okay.” You nodded and sniffled. “Thank you.” you told them. It was your first clear sentence since last night. They smiled “You don’t have to thank us. We do it because we care and love you.” you nodded. “Can we please go back to my room and watch a movie or something?” You asked. They nodded. “Let me freshen up the bed first.” Chris asked and gave you a kiss before walking upstairs, giving your uncle a nasty, really nasty glare.

“You want to go to the store and search out the snacks?” Henry asked. You nodded. “Wait…. Work.” You told them. “Let me call my boss first.” They looked at each other in confusion but let you do your thing. You got a week off and they wished you the best.

You got into the car with Henry and went to the supermarket. You searched out all the nice snacks, and even bought some tradition snacks from your home country for them to try. Henry got you a huge bear. But like life size huge. But he bought it when you sat in the car. He came back as you slurped on your slushy. Your mouth fell agape and you started to laugh. He smiled because you laughed again. “for you. So now you officially have a fort around you.” he told you making you chuckle. “Thank you so much.” You gave him a big hug. “Let’s go back okay?” you nodded.

You walked back in the house, hidden behind the big teddy bear. Your family giggled and Henry just shook his shoulders with a grin. He placed everything in the kitchen and your mom walked up to you, giving you a big hug, just like your uncles. Josh was nowhere to be found, they thought it would be better if he just left. He did left a letter for you. But you decided to open it when you calmed down and everything was more stable. This wouldn’t be a good time now.

You, Henry, Chris and the bear went upstairs with a couple of snacks. Chris cleaned your room a little and organized some stuff so the vibe that you brought with you to the room yesterday would be gone and it would feel “cleaner” to you. Not only literally but also as a feeling. He even lit some incense. Chris made a sort tent from your bed so you would feel even more safe and protected. Even putting on some fairy lights.

You crawled in and sat in the middle with the bear, laying down by your feet. Henry and Chris crawled in next to you. You laid down and so did they. You chose out your comfort movie and curled up against the boys. Henry held you on the right side and Chris held you on the left side, cuddling you close. “You don’t want the bear?” Henry asked. “I’ve got two bears right here.” The chuckled and held you closer. Chris carefully placed a kiss on your shoulder and Henry on your forehead, while brushing some lose strains of hair out of your face.

Henry’s and Chris’s arms got entangled by holding you but they couldn’t care any less. If you would feel safe than they were happy. All of your legs got entangled with each other and you rested your head on Henry’s chest as he rested his head on yours. You felt so protected and safe again, you never wanted to leave. You could feel Chris’s head resting on your shoulder as he softly rubbed your arm.

“We’ve got you and we’re not letting go nor are we going to let anything else happen to you. You’re doing so good and your so strong sweetheart but we’ve got you now. You can let go and feel safe and protected again. Trust us and let us help you.” Henry cooed.

You nodded “Thank you guys for everything.” You could feel them smile against your skin. “Don’t. We like to because we love and care for you.” Chris told you. This time you smiled. “I love you too, both of you.” they squeezed you a little and you all started to melt into each other’s touch. Sleep and exhaustion started to take over you and feeling the warmth radiating off of the boys, lulled you into a safe and protected feeling, as you slowly closed your eyes.

You were not fine and it would take a long time before you would feel okay again but at least you were lucky that you had your two bears and protectors around you.

[ateezmakemeweep]

broken (part 2).

san x reader

word count: 12k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)

(part 1)

no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.

you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.

you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.

you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.

but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything. 

underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.

six months ago:

“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical. 

hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts. 

talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had. 

making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal. 

you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring. 

this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this. 

“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months. 

you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this. 

willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic. 

admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet. 

without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe. 

you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.

but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that. 

it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.

san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.   

“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink

he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week. 

“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car. 

“san, are you-”

“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment. 

because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two. 

and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry. 

that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.

that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong. 

but there’s a lot wrong. 

a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it. 

a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life. 

that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.

it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours. 

there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you. 

“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own. 

it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence. 

but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee. 

a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner. 

the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.

you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be. 

even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard. 

you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted. 

but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching. 

you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe. 

the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making  this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him? 

see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be. 

that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-

you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name. 

you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.

“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.

he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.

you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state. 

you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning. 

“i-i’m sorry.”

the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time. 

when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.

when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.

when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off. 

he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. 

he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them. 

“i wish...i would stop doing that.”

he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks  at you questioningly. 

he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.

“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you. 

he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him. 

not even with a plate of fucking cookies. 

“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. 

your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content. 

“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”

“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.

“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here. 

bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much. 

he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.

“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”

“stop.”

he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you. 

but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you. 

“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up. 

“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”

your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you. 

“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining. 

the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night. 

but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been. 

“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”

you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out. 

but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder. 

you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.

“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face. 

“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest. 

a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him. 

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”

“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap. 

“did you eat yet?” 

you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you. 

his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care. 

“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you. 

and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better. 

pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover. 

because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night. 

stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.

watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.

it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together. 

you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.

“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case. 

you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you? 

“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”

“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.” 

because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again. 

his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod. 

you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you? 

would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?

or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.

you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.

“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”

san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?” 

the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed. 

he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence. 

“i don’t know if i can do it.”

the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied. 

more so than usual. 

“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe. 

“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”

“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”

tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it. 

it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long. 

because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside. 

you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days. 

“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously. 

“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-” 

your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth. 

“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”

"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.

you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.

"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."

and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did. 

you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that. 

“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”

and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances. 

your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this. 

you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly. 

you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately. 

no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with. 

but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe. 

at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial. 

it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger. 

you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee. 

the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies. 

“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth. 

“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy. 

he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times. 

mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table. 

“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys. 

the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now. 

you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-

“are you gonna be okay tonight?” 

he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months. 

not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.

san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work. 

but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together. 

“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him. 

and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay. 

you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie. 

but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes. 

behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook. 

how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset. 

and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making. 

it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom. 

at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.

but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get. 

you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class. 

“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?” 

the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop. 

he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.

you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you. 

you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.

he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much. 

“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough. 

you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously. 

“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days. 

you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him. 

and now he seems to know it, too. 

maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next. 

because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls. 

“have i been annoying?” 

your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks. 

his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.

you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.

but you certainly don’t mind. 

you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what. 

that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you. 

they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.

“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”

the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde. 

“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”

you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise. 

he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?

“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”

your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.

“i missed you too.”

boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot. 

“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.

“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.

he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough. 

you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days. 

you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you. 

you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.

but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again. 

you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life. 

but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of. 

she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance. 

she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back. 

the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement. 

and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school. 

“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?” 

your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education. 

you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.

that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.

and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time. 

“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?” 

“yes but i-”

“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.

“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”

you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers). 

tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing. 

she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle. 

“what are you crying about?” 

the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat. 

“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”

“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.” 

a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college. 

it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible. 

getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form. 

but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.

you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school. 

was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.

but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery? 

you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.

but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.

and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval. 

“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.

a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly. 

he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face. 

“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm. 

you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy. 

“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad. 

he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod. 

you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out. 

“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...” 

his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter. 

“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” 

you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised. 

there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all). 

but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.

it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on. 

“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”

your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously. 

he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?

your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him. 

whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else. 

“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.

“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?” 

you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest. 

he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair. 

“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.

because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care. 

they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end. 

it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.

the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.

that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look. 

he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing. 

maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you. 

it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?

but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault. 

and with you, he was always even more clouded. 

now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe. 

and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face. 

but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.

he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure. 

“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over. 

he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.

even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips. 

you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach. 

he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“hi, baby. i’m back.” 

“i love you.”

the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words. 

because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence. 

never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another. 

but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return. 

and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you. 

“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.” 

san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence. 

“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”

“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”

“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”

the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out. 

hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy  will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time. 

“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?” 

san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder. 

he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.

“san! you’re finally home!”

you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.

classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much. 

you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.

you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them. 

unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out. 

your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch. 

it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands. 

but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body. 

“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap. 

you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face. 

“’course love, why do you ask?”

“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”

“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”

“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.

“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?” 

happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.

“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.

he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.

but you’re so happy tonight. 

you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” 

he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it. 

and that alone is scaring the shit out of you. 

the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere. 

“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble. 

the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him. 

“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head. 

you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious. 

the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you. 

“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”

you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad. 

because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time. 

“i-i know...” 

he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet. 

“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”

you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.

“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”

he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again. 

tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life. 

“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”

and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately. 

that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience. 

but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore. 

he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less. 

it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up. 

“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”

did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade. 

san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first. 

but he loves being here and that’s the problem. 

he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe. 

you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him. 

“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”

“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”

because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it. 

“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him. 

he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.

“how could you think that?”

“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”

“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively. 

“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?

“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?” 

you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.

restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house. 

“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”

that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured. 

“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.” 

but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty. 

his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.

he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you. 

it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.

weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again. 

this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything. 

you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with. 

so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.

and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.

because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-

“y/n?” 

his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.

hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you. 

but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset. 

and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel. 

“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.

it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through. 

what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.

but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.

"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.

san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.

but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.

he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.

"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"

"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."

“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.

“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”

one year later:

you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.

you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through. 

it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.

you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7. 

and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.

it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.

you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes). 

you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san. 

there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived. 

but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck. 

you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face. 

the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours. 

his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more. 

“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.” 

you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him. 

heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.

"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door. 

you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.

your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.

"thank you."

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[anna-justice]

Superman - Upstead

Summary: Jay and Hailey are a part of an officer involved shooting, the aftermath puts Hailey in a very dangerous situation, causing her and Jay’s lives to be at risk. (Pre-Established Upstead)

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood & gore, swearing, angst, over-protective Jay

Requested: Yes! #71, “Get away from him/her!” & #74, “He’s/She’s not yours.”

…

“5021 George, we are in pursuit of the offender on foot. The offender is armed, all units advised. Send back up to the corner of Garden and North Malcom.” Jay said into his radio as he and Hailey raced down an alleyway. They were in a nicer part of town, the streets were more open and Jay could see an open field at the end. “Hailey, I’m gonna cut him off.” Jay called out to his partner, before darting out of the opening. He beat them to the end, taking off as the offender exited the alleyway. 

Jay sprinted towards the large man, tackling him to the ground. He knew he had a gun, but it was his only choice. They rolled across the grass, Jay immediately trying to get the upper hand. Hailey caught up, drawing her weapon. “Chicago P.D. Stand down!” She shouted from yards away.

The offender was restless, flipping them so that Jay was pinned underneath. Jay kicked him in the groin and knocked the gun out of his hand. Neither of the men had noticed Hailey’s presence, and when Jay reached behind him to grab the gun, the man punched square in the jaw, disorienting him. The man smiled, standing and grabbing his gun, pointing it at Jay. 

There was a loud pop, followed by a thud. Jay sat up immediately, seeing his partner with her gun raised. “You good?” She called out, racing towards him. 

“Yeah.” Jay said, jumping up and kicking the gun away. He wiped the blood from his nose as he checked the guys pulse, he was gone. 

Hailey sighed as she reached her partner, “That was stupid.” She said sternly.

Jay nodded, “Yeah, I know.” He looked her in the eye, holding their gaze, almost like a silent apology for scaring her like that. They were interrupted by the sounds of sirens. Patrol had made it to the scene. Pretty soon the field was flooded with officers and crime techs. 

“What happened?” Voight asked, finally arriving on scene. 

Hailey shrugged, “He ran as soon as we knocked on the door, Jay tackled him, he had a gun. It was us or him.” She explained. Jay nodded, backing her up.

Voight gave them a short nod, “Well, I guess that’s justice. Let’s head back, we’re back to square one.” The two nodded, bidding him goodbye and walking back to their rig.

They had been working the case a few days, it was a quadruple rape and homicide. The offender they were chasing was Jason Forbes, they knew he was one of them abusers because his DNA was found on all four victims, but now they were looking for his partner. 

Jay jumped in the driver's seat of the truck, Hailey following suit on the other side. “Thanks,” He said, once they were settled. “For earlier…”

“Yeah, Of course.” Hailey said, smiling at him. “You're my partner, I’ve always got your back.”

…

It was a long day full of almost no leads, it was like the trail died with Jason. There wasn’t even anything to chase down. All they had was everything they knew above Jason, and no one he knew met any of the criteria they were looking for. No one looked good. 

Eventually, Voight told them to all go home and get some rest. Hailey suggested getting a drink, Jay didn’t do well cases involving children, especially rape cases. Plus, she knew he was beating himself up over his attempted arrest earlier. They agreed to meet at the pub a few blocks away from Hailey’s apartment. It had become their own personal Molly’s. 

They sat at a high table near the back, the only thing it was near was the old fashioned jukebox, that they were both sure didn’t work. “How’s your nose?” Hailey asked, taking a sip of her beer.

Jay chuckled, “Fine, thanks.” 

Hailey put her hands up in surrender, “I’m being serious, he hit you pretty hard.” She was trying to hide her genuine concern behind the humor, cause she couldn’t get the image of that man standing over him with a gun out of her head. 

“I’m a little sore.” Jay admitted, sighing. “But, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” He smiled softly, making direct eye contact yet again. 

Hailey shook her head, averting her gaze. “You’re acting like I took a bullet for you.” 

Jay shrugged, “Close enough.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them really knew what to say. There was a cloud looming over the table. It wasn’t lost on Hailey that if she had been just 10 seconds later, Jay might be dead. And Jay knew how close he came to death today, just because he overestimated his own abilities. They came close to losing each other, but wasn’t that the job? It wasn’t a new thing, but it felt different. 

About an hour later, they walked out of the bar. Heading towards the parking lot to their separate cars. Jay walked a little behind her, he wasn’t ready to part ways yet, but he didn’t know how else to make her stay with him. “Hailey-” He started, but something caught his eye.

“Yeah?” She asked, turning around.

A car passing on the street slowed slightly, the back seat window rolled down and Jay saw the tip of a long gun. “Hailey, get down!” He shouted, sprinting and tackling her to the ground. Bullet after bullet hit the brick wall behind them as Jay used his entire body to shield her from the fire. When the assault finally stopped, they both waited a few seconds before sitting up. Jay grabbed Hailey’s shoulders, scanning her body. “Are you okay? Are you hit?”

He subconsciously placed a hand on her cheek, running his thumb over the pavement burn just above her jawline. Hailey placed her hand over his, “I-I’m fine. Are you okay? What the hell just happened?” She asked, taking his hand as he helped her stand. 

“I-I don’t know. I saw the gun and-” Hailey cut him off by launching herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around him. Jay hugged her back immediately, holding her close. She was shaking, Jay combed his fingers through her hair. “Hey, it’s okay. We're okay.” They stood there, wrapped up in each other for a few minutes before a patrol car rolled up. 

“We got a call of shots fired?” The guy asked, stepping out of the car. 

Jay pulled up the bottom of his shirt, showing the officer his badge. “Yeah, a black SUV rolled by and just started shooting, I couldn’t get plates.” 

While Jay talked to patrol, Hailey looked around, finding a set of security cameras. “Hey Jay!” She called out, she got his attention immediately. “We should check with the owner and see if these work.” She said, pointing up at them. 

Jay nodded, “You guys call for backup, I’m gonna go talk to the owner and call my sergeant.” He ordered, clicking on Voight’s contact information. It was going to be a long night. 

…

“Matthew Zimmerman.” Kim said, taping his picture to the board. “That’s who the car is registered to. Now, there is no obvious connection between him and Jason Forbes other than them being in the same facebook chat room.” 

Kevin turns his computer screen so that they can all gather behind it. “We didn’t find it before, because somehow Jason was able to make it unassessable on all his devices. It’s called the Misunderstood Brotherhood, and it is an invitation only, unmarked room. So you can only get in with a code from an invite.” 

Kim continued, “We searched through all of the members and there are near 75 in the Chicago area, many of which are registered sex offenders or have previous allegations against them.” 

“So, it’s a bragging ground for rapists?” Jay snapped, leaning on Hailey’s desk and crossing his arms. 

“Sort of.” Kim said.

“Most of the messages are pretty disturbing, they talk about urges and possible intent, but they are smart. There is nothing specifically incriminating, well, except for this.” Kevin scrolled through the chat, stopping so they could all read the bolded message. “This was posted yesterday afternoon.”

This morning, one of our brothers, Jason forbes, was shot and killed by Hailey Upton. A Detective in the Intelligence Unit out of the 21st district, badge #55055. We will not stand for this and we must avenge his death. The brotherhood will award a $100,000 reward to anyone who can eliminate the officer as a threat. Do us proud.

Hailey gasped, taking a step back. Her back hit her partner’s side, who instinctively wrapped a protective arm around her waist. “Holy shit.” Adam said.

“So last night, that was a hit?” Hailey asked shakily. 

Kim nodded, “It looks like it, and we can assume at least 200 other people have seen this message.”

Voight took over from there. “Alright, we need to get Hailey to a safe house. Halstead, you’ll go with her. I’m gonna call the ivory tower, they are gonna want to be in the loop.”

As soon as Voight shut the door to his office, Adam stood. “Maybe I should go with Hailey.”

Jay scoffed, “What?”

“I’m just saying, your head doesn’t really seem in the game.” Adam snapped, Jay’s arm wrapped around Hailey catching his attention.

“Do I need to talk to you?” Jay asked, his jaw clenched.

“Jay-”

Jay took a step forward, “Where the hell do you get off?” Jay asked, seething. “She’s my partner.”

“She’s not yours, Jay.” Adam said, getting in Jay’s face.

Hailey stepped forward, holding her hand up to Adam. “I’m not anyone’s,” She snapped. Jay took it as a chance to step back, the last thing he wanted to do was piss Hailey off. Hailey glared at Adam, shaking her head. She didn’t understand why he was causing such a scene. She turned to Jay, “Let’s get our stuff.” She stormed off to the locker room, Jay hot on her tail. She turned around exasperated when she entered the room, Jay cracked the door behind them. “What the hell was that?” She whisper yelled.

“I’m sorry-”

Hailey cut him off, “I won’t be the prize you two sword fight over. That was incredibly embarrassing, if Voight had been out there, there would be hell to pay.”

Jay slouched in defeat. “I know, I’m sorry. He just makes me so mad sometimes.” 

“Jay.” She said, “Do you really think I would have let Adam come with me over you?”

Jay sighed, “No.” 

Hailey stuck her arms out at her sides, emphasizing his statement. “Thank you.” She collapsed onto the bench behind her, running a hand through her hair. Jay cautiously walked toward her, sitting down about a foot away and leaning on his hands. Her fast mood changed, scaring him a bit. Hailey sighed, running her hands over her face. “There’s a bounty on my head.” 

Jay shifted a little closer to her, letting his hand rest on her back. “We’ll get through it.” 

Hailey looked up at him, something about the way he said we made her heart skip a beat. Before she could say anything, the door swung open and revealed Kevin. “Hey, you guys ready to go?”

Hailey jumped up immediately, sniffling. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

…

Three unmarked cars and a safety evaluation later, Hailey found herself sitting on a not so comfortable couch. For their own safety, neither of them knew quite where they were. There were alarms on all the windows and doors, so if someone tried to break in the team sitting in the house would immediately be alerted. 

Jay was pacing, his hands on his hips. Hailey huffed, “Are you gonna do that all night?” She asked.

“Maybe.” He deadpanned. 

Hailey rolled her eyes, “Can you please just come sit down.” She asked. 

Jay sighed, admitting defeat and sitting on the other side of the couch. “Better?”

Hailey smiled, “Much.” 

They sat in silence for a while, deciding to turn on the TV in front of them, not that there was anything good on. Jay snuck glances at his partner, even though he had been seeing more and more of it lately, it was nice to see her so casual. She had on leggings and a sweatshirt, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Her sock covered feet pulled up on the couch and tucked under her as she watched the screen absently. Jay watched the way the colors danced over her face in the dark room, smiling softly. He swore she got more beautiful everyday. 

Hailey looked over at him, blushing slightly when she found his gaze already on her. “What?”

Jay coughed, “Nothing.” He could see the gears in her head turning from across the couch. “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

“Eh, I don’t know,” Hailey shrugged, smiling weakly at him. “That we’re even now.” 

Jay chuckled, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“I-” Hailey started, “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.” She looked down at her hands, feeling her eyes well up. “I know we put our lives on the line everyday, but…” Jay held his breath, her heart aching for her. “I could’ve died last night. I could have died last night, and you could’ve too, and that would have been my fault.”

“Hailey-”

“No Jay,” She said, looking at him with teary eyes. “You can’t talk yourself out of this one. You put yourself between me and a gunman and I just, I don’t understand.”

Jay shifted, moving a little closer to her. “Hailey. I will never not protect you.” 

Hailey sucked in a breath, his gaze hot on her skin. They had never been quiet about trusting each other, they both knew they would follow the other anywhere, that at the end of the day, they would be there for each other. But this, this was new. Not to him, he had always protected her, but for the first time in a while Hailey got a glimpse at how much she really meant to him. “I, uh, It’s getting late.” She rushed out, looking at her hands again. “We should get some sleep.” She stood, glancing back at him. 

“Uh, I’ll take the couch, you take the bed.” He busied himself gathering pillows from the other chairs and grabbing the throw blanket off the back, trying not to think about Hailey’s complete dismissal of his previous statement.

“Jay.” She said, and his head snapped up. “Are you really going to make me sleep alone tonight?” It was forward, she would admit. But the thought of sleeping alone in some random house while people were literally racing to kill her, wasn’t so appealing.

He stood, shaking his head. “No.” 

Hailey smiled, letting him follow her to the hotel-like bedroom. It was a big enough bed for two people, thankfully. Hailey pulled back the covers and climbed it, she hadn’t slept in over 48 hours and she was feeling it for sure. Jay climbed in cautiously, glad that he had a pair of sweatpants in his overnight bag and he didn’t have to sleep in his jeans. They laid on complete opposite sides of the bed facing each other. “Goodnight Jay.” Hailey said quietly.

“Goodnight Hailey.” 

…

Jay woke up in the middle of the night, needing to pee. When he registered where he was, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Hailey’s back was pressed against his chest and his arm was wrapped around her waist. He smiled to himself, careful not to wake her as he climbed out. 

The bathroom light was blinding as he flipped it on, waking him all the way up, he noticed he had creases all over his arms from the blanket. Means it was a good sleep. He thought, grinning. Honestly, he was surprised he was sleeping so well, given the circumstances. He guessed he was more dependent on Hailey than he thought, she really did calm him. 

He did his business quickly, itching to get back in bed and enjoy his partners embrace, even if it was for just one night. He was halfway back to the bedroom when he heard a loud crash. He took off running, and when he reached the bedroom, he saw a masked man standing in front of the broken window, staring a Hailey. 

The man took a step forward, not noticing Jay’s presence. Hailey woke up confused, screaming for Jay when she saw the man. “Get away from her.” He yelled, charging forward. The man pulled a gun, but Jay kept going.

“Jay!” Hailey screamed again, thinking her partner was crazy. 

Jay grabbed the gun, ripping it out of the guy's hand and punching square in the jaw. He tossed it on the bed, “The safety was on.” He said, getting on the top of the guy and flipping him on his stomach. Hailey jumped up and ran to her belt across the room, grabbing a pair of handcuffs and handing them to Jay. Jay cuffed the guy and pulled the mask off, revealing a younger man. Jay stood him up, “Let’s go in the kitchen, we don’t know if there are more coming.” 

Hailey nodded, following behind him. She removed the rounds from the gun and placed it on the counter, watching Jay sit the guy down on the floor. A few minutes later there was commotion outside and the pair immediately raised their guns. “Chicago P.D!” Someone yelled and they both sighed, relaxing. The rescue team kicked the door in and was surprised to find the duo alive and well on the other side. 

Jay picked the guy up off the ground and handed him over. “He came in through the bedroom window.” The detective nodded, hauling him out of the house. 

As part of protocol, Jay and Hailey were both checked out by paramedics. They went over details with the detectives and their team, hopefully giving the information they needed to get ahead of and take down the brotherhood. Eventually they found themselves in the back of another unmarked car, Hailey leaning into Jay’s side, she was physically and emotionally exhausted, way too exhausted to worry about how things might look or come across.

Jay held her close to him, letting his thumb rub over the fabric of her sweatshirt. Hailey yawned, “You really have been playing superman today.” She said groggily. 

“Yeah?” Jay asked, smirking.

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at it.” Hailey confessed, leaning further into him. “But don’t quit your day job.” 

Jay smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I couldn’t leave you stranded like that.”

Hailey smiled contently, “You better not, good partners are hard to find.” 

“Yeah they are.” Jay agreed, hugging her closer. Good partners were hard to find.

…

A/N: This got so long, sorry! I really like it though, I haven’t written anything like it. Thank you so much for reading! <3

[plaidbooks]

Sonny x reader where they're his new partner and they go UC at a swingers/ sex club as husband and wife (or husbands). The club host (idk the title) asks what they're into, reader & Sonny both panic, so reader says pegging, but Sonny doesn't know what that is. Shenanigans ensue 😅

Sex Club

A/N: Okay first, I apologize with how short this is--I lost inspiration halfway through. Second, I missed the part where you said “new partner,” whoops. I’m just fumbling here, idk what happened. Either way, I hope you still enjoy it!

Tags: talks of pegging, mentions of rape, otherwise none

Words: 975

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @reading--mermaid @joanofarkansass @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @dreamlover31 @crowleysqueenofhell

When Liv told you that you were going undercover with Sonny as a couple, you nodded dutifully. You’d been undercover with Sonny hundreds of times—or so it felt—and this would be nothing new. Though, your jaw dropped slightly when Liv mentioned the sex club you’d be undercover at. You had a bit of a crush on Sonny, and even though you’ve masqueraded as a couple before, this was a whole new experience.

“That’s not a problem, is it?” Liv asked, seeing your expression.

You recovered quickly enough. “N-no…I’ve just never been in a sex club before,” you responded, smiling sheepishly.

“You know, Carisi had the same reaction, and almost word-for-word the same reply,” she teased.

“That’s…not surprising he hasn’t been. But it’s fine, really. What’s our cover?”

Liv gave you the quick, abridged version before sending you to TARU to be wired. She instructed you to meet her in the Bullpen afterwards, to go over the details and you agreed. All you knew right now was that you and Sonny would be married, and you were looking for a man that was raping women in the back rooms.

Cameras weren’t allowed in the sex club, and since you and Sonny would be signing an NDA once inside, you were only outfitted with a microphone. On your way to the Bullpen, you passed by Sonny for the first time since getting this assignment. He was heading towards TARU to get himself wired up.

“This is…a weird one,” he muttered to you and you chuckled.

“You’re telling me,” you replied, and then you were past him, joining the rest of the squad in the Bullpen. The perp’s face was stuck to the whiteboard; his name was unknown, and the picture of him was grainy at best—obviously taken from a security cam outside the building.

Liv gave you the details about him—what little was known—and his victims. He seemed to attack women indiscriminately.

“But why a sex club? And how does he even get in?” you asked. Rollins had mentioned that they got another member to vouch for you and Sonny—the entrance to a sex club was hard enough to gain.

“We…don’t know,” Liv replied, sighing. She was obviously upset about the lack of information the department had on this guy, which only made you more nervous.

You wracked your brain for a question that could help you find this guy once inside. “Do we know what his, uh, preference is? Like, what he asks for?”

“The few victims willing to talk to us said he asks for pegging, lulls the women into thinking he’s going to be docile before attacking,” Rollins answered.

You nodded, tucking that information away for later. Sonny joined you in the Bullpen a moment later. “Okay, so what are my wife and I up to?”

 ******************

You and Sonny—or “Annie” and “Peter,” as your IDs said—had just finished signing the NDAs that the hostess gave you. Sonny’s arm was around your waist as you both followed her into the sex club.

“And what were you two looking for? So that I can place you in the correct room, with the right toys,” she explained.

“Pegging,” you replied instantly, and you felt Sonny stiffen next to you. Whoops, you had forgotten to tell Sonny about that.

The hostess looked from you to Sonny, a playful smile on her lips. “Oh? And you’re okay with that, too?”

Sonny recovered quickly, squeezing your hip. “Of course; whatever the missus wants, she gets.”

“Oh-ho; you’ve trained him well,” she said to you, and you grinned back, ignoring the way your insides clenched at the thought.

“Of course; I’d settle for nothing less,” you replied seductively.

“Right this way,” the hostess instructed, leading you both down a long corridor, rooms on either side.

Once safely in your room, door closed—but not locked, there were no locks, “for safety purposes,” the hostess had explained—you went to the wall, pressing your ear against it, to see if you could hear anything wrong in the next room. You heard some intense moans, and you pulled away, face burning.

Sonny was eyeballing the wall opposite; the wall covered in toys. “So, uh…pegging,” he started, and you felt the temperature in the room go up ten degrees. “What, uh, what is it?”

You ducked your head; was he really asking this? Now? “It’s, umm…do we really need to discuss this?”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, I just…okay, so if I were to, uh, peg you…I would put on a strap-on and, uh…” you trailed off, face on fire.

“Oh…oh!” Sonny replied, face beet red. “So, like, I’d be on all fours? And you’d—”

“Yes!” you said, cutting him off. “We don’t need a play-by-play of what that would be.”

Sonny shuffled uncomfortably. “And…and people are into that?”

“Well, the prostate is, uh, located there.”

He nodded. “Fair enough…. We should, uh, we should be trying to find this guy.”

“Agreed,” you muttered, unable to make eye contact with your partner. Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer before you heard some muffled cries. You and Sonny left your room quietly, pressing your ear to the offender’s door until you were positive it wasn’t consensual before bursting in. Sonny cuffed the man, who matched the perp’s description, with handcuffs found on the wall, while you comforted the woman he had been assaulting.

The hostess was livid, claiming that since you had both signed NDAs, anything recorded would be inadmissible in court. Plus, she was threatening to sue the NYPD, and you and Sonny specifically. Liv assured you that since you signed the NDAs with fake names, they were void. But Sonny wasn’t convinced. Either way, you were just glad this UC op was done and over with, Sonny’s beet red face forever imprinted in your mind.

[rms-moonchild]

Chapter Six

WORD COUNT: 1k+ words

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, angst, smut at a later date

PAIRING: Namjoon x original character

DESCRIPTION: It was supposed to be just a normal day of filming RUN BTS. Namjoon didn’t know he was about to discover something he certainly was not ready for. That something being finding a girl in the middle of the forest.

THEMES: Namjoon x Fem!character, mentions of abuse/rape, Smut, some Violence, some strong language

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

The best way to explain the day Rae left the hospital would be best described as chaotic. They were not sure how, though they suspected someone snuck in, the media found out about Namjoon's frequent visits to the hospital and that he was visiting someone. They also found out that whoever he was visiting was getting released that day and they swarmed the exit in hopes of getting a picture of who it was. This led to the authorities being called to help clear the area so that the people that needed to be there could get help. Namjoon looked out the window trying to find a way to get into the car without causing an uproar. They couldn't just walk out because Rae was not strong enough to really walk yet with her stitches. They would be able to tell right away with the way she walked.

"Why don't we go out the back?" Jimin asked standing next to him, "We can see if we can go out the employee entrance to help lessen the people seeing her. We can't avoid them completely Namjoon."

"I know but I can't help feeling the need to protect her completely from this." Namjoon sighed sitting down on the couch and closing his eyes. Rae was taking a nap before they discharged her, and for some reason, Taehyung was asleep next to her on the bed. They're still not sure how he managed to convince her to let him.

"I got it!" Hoseok exclaimed quietly, "Why don't the 6 of us leave through the normal exit and she leave through a different exit. They'll be more focused on us that they won't go searching for her."

"They would work, but they'll catch on when they notice I'm not with you guys."

"That's the thing Joon. You'll be with us." Hoseok said smiling. He could already tell his idea was not received well by the look on Namjoon's face.

"No, he has a point Namjoon." Seokjin said before Namjoon could shut the idea down, "Think about it. They'll expect you to be with her when she leaves as you've been with her the entire week. When you leave without her, they'll think they got the day wrong and not think about looking if she went through another exit."

"Then who will be with her? I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone." Namjoon asked forgetting Hoseok said 6, not 7.

"Taehyung of course. He's the only other one she's comfortable with." Yoongi rolled his eyes thinking that was obvious.

"We'll run it by her when she wakes up. For now, let's just let them sleep." Namjoon sighed rubbing his face. He was tired, having not slept very well the night before. He was anxious about her release. So far things had not been going to plan. He just hoped they were able to get her out of the hospital and into a car without incident.

When the two of them woke up they were told the plan and it was mostly well-received. The only thing that bothered her was that Namjoon wouldn't be going with her. Yes, she liked Taehyung. He was sweet and kind and always made sure she was comfortable with what he was doing but...Namjoon was safe. He made her feel protected and safe. That nothing was going to happen if he was there.

"I know it's scary, but Taehyung will be there the entire time." Namjoon explained, "And don't worry I will be right behind you. I will not be gone for long."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Rae nodded turning to Taehyung who smiled in return. He wasn't too offended that she wanted Namjoon to go with her. He understood he was the one she associated with safety. She never said it out loud but he could tell. Every time she was starting to panic, or when she woke up from a night terror (those sometimes happening in the day when they were there) she would look for Namjoon. She would panic further if he wasn't there. To her, he was her security and Namjoon effortlessly stepped in that role as if he was always meant to do it.

"You ready?" A nurse asked as she came in followed by a couple of other nurses. The plan was for one nurse to escort Namjoon and the others while the other two escorted Rae and Taehyung. They were they to help get her into the vehicle without bothering her stitches too much.

"Yes, let's go." Namjoon nodded still holding onto her hand, "See you soon Rae." With that, he followed the first nurse out followed by the others. They all gave a small wave to the two as they left. Once they all left, they waited a few minutes before leaving as well. Rae reached out to Taehyung silently asking him to hold her hand. He took it without saying anything. He knew she didn't want to draw attention to herself. When they got to the exit one of the nurses and a couple of guards left first to see if the close was clear. When they made sure they were not going to get ambushed by photographers they motioned for the others to exit. Quickly but carefully they got Rae into the vehicle and they were off to the house the boys shared.

"I better call Namjoon before he dies from anxiety." Taehyung laughed pulling out his phone and calling Namjoon. It only rang once before his ears were assaulted with indistinguishable yells came from the other end of the phone. Rae looked at the phone in shock having never heard Namjoon yell like that.

"Namjoon calm down your yelling is scaring Rae," Taehyung said hoping that Namjoon heard him over his yelling. Almost immediately the yelling stopped, and Taehyung put the phone back to his ear.

"No, she's not really scared." He paused as Namjoon yelled, again, from the other end. "If you'd listen for a minute, you'd know we made it safely to the car and are headed back to the house." He paused as more yelling continued. "Well, I would have said so sooner if you weren't yelling so much...Yes, she's fine and we'll see you soon... Namjoon," he sighed, "seriously we are fine. Stop worrying.".

"I-Is Namjoon o-okay? You're n-not in trouble, a-are you?" Rae asked. She had a tendency to start to stutter when she was really nervous or anxious.

"No, I'm not in trouble and Namjoon is fine. He just freaked out when he didn't hear from us when he had expected to is all."

"H-He was yelling."

"Yes, and I will scold him when we get home. There was no reason to yell at me like that. I called as soon as I could."

"I-I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry Rae. You didn't do anything."

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

[youresog0lden]

Josslyn (pt 3) II Spencer Reid

Read part one and two here

WC: 2.4k

A/N: some requested this but this will be the last part! 

Warning: cursing, and normal criminal minds things

 GIF IS NOT MINE !!!

masterlist

By the time you’re reading this it will be my birthday so I decide to write this part and it makes me incredibly happy !!

"Sometimes good thing's fall apart so better things can come in." Marilyn Monroe

Everything happens for a reason. I call everytime I get drunk but obviously you know that. I get drunk to get you off my mind but, it doesn't work. It never works, it does the complete opposite. I think of you, your smile, the way you like your coffee with this weird creamer. The way you only wear a tight long sleeve shirt tight black pants and your clunky docs. You smile every morning even if you're having a bad day. Even though the room is full of profilers. You still act happy. But the alcohol still doesn't make me forget.  I know you get my texts. I need to stop putting you threw this. I should've stopped two years ago. It's been two years. I have had to see you walk into the bullpen like you we're to happiest women on the planet. So, that's why I stopped I love seeing you happy. It almost makes me happy. I know I messed up trust me. I know I should be sorry. I really messed up but, everyday I could go up to you and get on my hands and knees and tell you how incredibly sorry I am and how bad I fucked up. I know I fucked up. It hasn't been the same with JJ and I. I can't stop thinking about the look on your face. It hurt me. I don't even know why I did it. We we're just caught up in the moment. She told me she loves me. Y/n she loves me. But I love you. I should have let it happen but ever since it did I can't stop thinking about you. I see you have a boyfriend, he seems like a nice guy the few times we met. He seem's like he could treat you better than I could. The way he looks at you, with such love. Garcia tell me you love him, and you couldn't see you're self with anyone else. While I admit that hurt I can say that it's good to see you happy. I'm happy for you as long as he doesn't hurt you, that's all that matters. I can tell you love him all you see in your eyes is the sparkle when he talks anyway. I'm sorry I haven't been there. I really want to. I want us to be like we used to be, before prison. But now everything isn't the same. I mean what can I expect. I ruined it but, I am going to let you go. I have to meet my mom in an hour and I'm not even ready.

                                        ~ Love Spencer Reid

I stare at the letter now sitting on my desk. What do I do with it now. Sam's going to be home soon and he'll flip if he reads that letter. Without even thinking I slip it into the holder for mail. He never goes in there. Without thinking I take my food to the couch eating it. Ding. I look at my phone seeing the lovely Emily has texted the group telling them we have a case. I quickly put on my jeans and boots grabbing my to-go bag before grabbing my keys locking up. I get in my car and drive down to the BAU. I swipe my key card going to my desk. Everyone was waiting for Emily and Garcia to walk into the bullpen to tell us to meet them in the conference room. My eye almost on instinct look for Dr. Reid seeing him standing there laughing with Tara. I look around before deciding to talk to JJ.

"Do you know what's going on?" I ask. I never had the right to be mad at JJ she didn't know Reid and I we're together. All she did was fuck up her own marriage and lose her best friend I couldn't be mad at her it wasn't my place. She nods her head no before seeing the bubbly blonde walk in with a tablet in her hand shaking it towards the conference room. We all nod following along except me. I set my bag at my desk and look around.

"Y/n." Garcia calls out.

"Yeah I'm coming." I say. I put the letter in my desk and walk into the room.

"Okay. What do we have." I say taking a seat next to Luke.

"Two dead."

"Meet Tom and Lilly Small."

" A husband and wife. They we're found dead in there home in Atlanta Georgia on Wednesday stabbed brutally fifteen times then shot execution style." Emily stated.

"Do they have any kids?" I ask.

"Yes two sons and a daughter." Garcia says.

"Where were they that night." JJ asked.

"Jason the oldest was at his house with his wife and son. They both can prove and so can there security cams. Zach was at a soccer game on his way home when it happened and Angel was upstairs with rope tied around her but nothing about what happened almost like she was drugged."

"Do we know with what drugs?" Reid questioned.

"A date rape drug called-" Garcia takes a second to look at it.

"gamma-butyrolactone or gbl." she says.

"GBL is a hygroscopic colorless, water-miscible liquid with a weak characteristic odor. It is the simplest 4-carbon lactone. It is mainly used as an intermediate in the production of other chemicals, e.g. methyl-2-pyrrolidone." Reid speaks. We all look at him for a brief second his eyes meet mine but, wanting nothing more than to do with him I look away. Who am I lying to. I am still madly in love with him. I shake my head hearing Spencer speak again.

"It effects the pathway to the brain." he finishes. I nod.

"Okay so she was drugged but how?" I asked.

"We don't but we have to get there soon. We are wanting to believe that the unsub will hurt again. Wheels up in 40." Emily said. All of us exit from the room. I walk to the kitchen with my coffee mug in my hand only to meet the one and only Spencer Reid. I don't say anything I just pull out the pot making sure to fill it with the coffee and sugar. Reid starts to look at me with these big eyes that say a lot. I gave him and unwanted smile and walk away drinking my coffee

----

"Ok Y/L/N, Reid go to the precinct and start the geographical map, Rossi and Tara talk to the family find any information you can out, Alvez you with me we're going to the crime site, after we'll go over to the coroners office." Emily finally finished. All of us nodding going our separate ways. Reid and I make our way towards the car heading down to the station.

----

"There's been a new murder." Emily says threw the phone.

"Where." Reid asked picking up this red marker.

"At Peach Tree Center." she says. He put's his hand on it putting a dot right where his finger is laid. Right then the phone ringed again.

"Hello." I sang.

"Hello my beautiful and my boy genius." Garcia called threw.

"Hi my pretty lady." I said

"Hey Garcia." Reid spoke.

"Okay so I just got a call from the one and only Rossi telling me that the daughter told us that her mom had a kid at 15. I guess she got pregnant early and gave her up for adoption. They just recently got in touch." she finished.

"But you'll never get this." she salted.

"What."

"Her adoptive parents we the family just killed." she finished. Reid and I looked at each other

"Where is she now."

"She is on her way down from New Jersey."

"Mark that." I call to Reid.

----

"Do you want some water." I asked coming into the room She sat there.

"So what part of New Jersey are you from?" I asked her. She  silently sat there still not saying anything.

"Ok, fine. It's in you're right of law not to talk. But you forget that I'm the profiler here. I watched you while you sat in here talking to Dr. Reid, I watched your micro-expressions. I watched as you barley blank when he mentioned the death of your mom. Now seeing that  you barley knew her I didn't expect you to be crying whale tears but for you actual family come on now. Not a single tear?" I questioned.

"Some people grieve different."

"Yes. They do but most people cry when a loved one dies. You know studies have been shown that most people who grieve cry but most psychopaths don't show emotion at all because they don't know how to show that emotion some were never raised into the right home some jsut don't know how." I say sitting down cupping my hands together.

"Now my question is why?" I ask.

"Why what?" she coyly.

"Don't play dumb with me." I smile right back.

"Awe is the Agent getting mad." I laugh

"Did you or did you not kill you're biological mom for giving you up and her kids and husband because they knew the truth and then went and killed you're adoptive parents because they kept this from you." I ask for almost a second you could see she broke. She didn't think I noticed.

"How would you know if I did."

"You made it very easy. You left Angel alive. She told us that she remembers a girl walking into her room and tying her up. She felt comfortable with her at first because this girl looked familiar but she couldn't put her finger on it. That's when Jason came forward and told us that you we're in the picture and that you always gave him an off vibe but, that. That right there wasn't enough to put you away. We had no proof. So we did a background search. You're not from New Jersey. You're from Maine. You're adoptive dad was a drunk and you're adoptive mom was not a mom she was trying to be you're best friend. You felt nothing almost as if you turned your emotions off like that." I snapped.

"Fine. I killed them." she screamed. I smirked and got up, walking out the door. The team was standing out there watching the whole thing there mouths a gaped.

"How-What?" Alvez laughed.

"How did you do that." Tara asked.

"You guys forget that this is why I was hired in the first place I am an amazing interrogator and profiler. " I smile at the lovely people infront of me.

"Hold up someone is calling me." I say walking away pulling out my phone.

"Hello this is SSA Y/L/N."

"Y/n." Sam's voice snapped.

"Oh. Hi my lovely." I smile.

"Where the fuck are you." he spat

"Wait are you with him-" he laughs

"Yes I am with him, and the whole team I work with asshat." I sigh.

"I found the letter." he states. I freeze.

"What are you talking about." I questioned dumbly.

"You know exactly what letter quit playing dumb. Are you going to tell him you love him to. Even after he hurt you?" he laughs bitterly

"I don't love him." I say in a hushed voice.

"Sure." he starts

"You know I hate it when you're with him." then he finished.

"Can you stop being so god damn controlling." I yell causing the looks of my team and a few others. Reid snapping his head first.

"Can you stop being such a bitch." he yells just as loud.

"Maybe I wouldn't be such a bitch if you stopped being so controlling."

"Whatever y/n well talk about this when we get home." I could just tell he was rolling his eyes, I decide to hang up the phone. I walk to the group a few of them letting out uncomfortable coughs. I just sigh.

"Sorry about that." I mumble looking down. They just nod all of us walking our own separate ways. I really need to talk to Spencer. I don't say anything I just kinda walk over to where he's grabbing his bag. Sam will get mad he always does but, I need to talk to him about this.

"Spence." I called him by the nickname. He looks over at me with wide eyes. He starts scrambling until I put my hand on his arm stopping him, and as cliche as it sounds but I felt fireworks. You shouldn't feel this way. It's wrong. I take my hand off his arm sliding them into my pockets uncomfortably.

"What's up."

"We need to talk." I say sternly. The blush rises up on him face.

"About what." he asked seeming to 'forget' about the letter he left me. "I can't stop thinking about the look on your face." He sighs before looking at me.

"Y/N I meant everything I said in that letter."

"I know and I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you. That I'm not mad anymore."

"You're not."

"No. It's been two years I can't stand being mad at you anymore it's tiring. I miss my best friend the one that I had before we started fucking around. I miss your stupid little facts in the morning or the nicknames you would give me. I miss walking hand in hand together into the bull pen. I miss staying up super later watching 'Doctor Who.' I miss you being the person who I can come to for anything. God Spence. I miss every part of you and I really fucked up getting into this relationship. I was just trying to move on and I thought I could but I can't I can't move on. I love you." I say.

"What about you're boyfriend." he almost cringes at the word boyfriend.

"I'm trying to leave him." I say softly.

"Why haven't you yet."

"Because like I said I'm trying to get over you."

"I love you any only you." I said softly.

"I love you." he says just as softly.

"God I love you so much." he finished.

"I'll break up with his as soon as I get home." I say softly. He hums in response. I grab the red tie he's wearing pulling my lips onto his. He wraps his arm around his waist and he wraps his around my waist and suddenly I feel at home.

[babiesdreams]

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1 [127]

Warnings: mentions of: blood, rape, traumas, gore (kind of)

Jungwoo’s story:

It’s always been in my blood, but I wasn’t aware of it at first. Maybe I should have noticed in the way my anger came out like a power bust sometimes. Maybe people around me should have noticed before. But now is too late to feel sorry about things.

It isn’t something bad to take advantage of your situations, to help your relatives, It shouldn’t be bad. 

The police’s siren marked the rythm of my heartbeats, but I tried to stay calmed, there was nothing suspicious about a young adult driving his car a few miles /metres away from a recently robbed bank. Not even if they cassually had a bag with a million dollars on the backseat. 

“Can I talk to you sir?” A tall policeman says tapping on my car’s window. “Yes” I politely reply, while I rolled the window down just enough for him to hear me. “Can we inspect your car? There’s been a robbery near by and we wanted to make sure-” My foot quickly stepped over throttle, to start driving through the busy streets. 

My mind was too focused on not driving into other cars that I almost forgot about my powers. After driving through three streets, I stopped the car completely, concentrating like I practiced. Everyone and everything freezed around me. Everything stopped, except me. 

I took my time to escape, as I had literally all the time on my hands. I was so scared of what could happen to me that I simply kept the world on pause for a whole month. Hours, days the all went through like nothing. 

I only stopped because my headaches were getting worse every minute, the pain was way too much to take, so I had to stop using my powers for a while. They eventually got me, and took me to prison, but luckily I could give the money to my family first. I hope they all can enjoy the life they deserved now.

I really hope so.

Taeyong’s story:

It’s always been a curse to me. I never felt normal, I was never normal I guess. I first noticed when I was five. My mom told me I was the best thing that happened to her, and the images passed through my head.

I was a product of a rape, and she tried her best to abort me, but it was too late, and then she just got used to it. She lost her job because of me, and all her friends left her. We moved to a new city and bills were trapping us in. I got to know that when I was only five.

Since then, I could always know when someone lied to me. I thought it was a stupid power, useless and harmful for myself, but it turned out to be harmful for others as well.

Knowing secrets is powerful, much more than what I thought. I got out a job because I knew the boss was cheating on his wife. I got a promotion because I knew a workmate was stealing stuff from the office.

I worked hard since I was fifteen to get to where I am, and I’m not gonna risk it all for a stupid project. I wasn’t gonna, but they have my mother, so I’m here to tell the truth. 

Yuta’s story:

When you’re like me, people misunderstand a lot of things. I was diagnosed with TDAH when I was three. Doctors said I lives a fast life, and that I should relax. They were simply wrong.

I live my life in between pills, xannys and all sorts of medication. But that shit only stops my body, my brain still works an 180% faster than the average human brain. My Iq was qualified as “untestable” and I’ve lives in labs my whole life.

Doctors wanted to figure out what caused my “disease” and they never stopped testing me. 

So I plotted an escape plan on a free hour I had. I faked eating the pills so that I could take back some of my physical speed, and then I left the lab, as fast as I could. When they realized I was out, I was already exactly 10.000 km away from them.

But I didn’t realize how freedom would get me lost, unpathed and really pityful. So I ended up taking drugs, which actually helped me getting some of my brain speed out, and be free of my own thoughts for a while. But drugs led me to a shameful path full of crimes.

Dongyoung’s story:

I’ve always lived apart from other humans. I was trapped into a jail, where the experimented with me. I never saw another human, not that I remembered. Everyone was so scared of my power I guess.

Nobody likes to be manipulated, but it’s something I couldn’t control. They made me believe I was a monster and I acted upon that. I never wanted to be harmful. But do you know how it feels to feel what others feel?

I get to feel others feelings constantly and they all get mixed up, and there’s so much anger in this world, and sometimes I can’t control that anger.

So yeah, maybe I manipulate people, but they made me feel bad first it’s just fair. I don’t want to feel this either.

When I escaped, everyone was too scared of me, I had to turn that into something less harmful, like, like exhaustion. I made them fall asleep, but I didn’t think about the consequences it all may have. 

So when I felt overwhelmed... well you know what happened... I also felt their sadness, the way their souls got out of their bodies, the way they cried their lungs out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.

So I came here to learn how to control this.

Taeil’s story:

My powers came like something to be grateful for. My family were farmers, and the business kept going down. I still got the motivation to kept the farm going, and helping my family over the hardships of summer. 

I don’t even know how it happened. I guess I just grabbed a bunch of rotten tomatoes and picture them to be the best vegetables I could imagine, and It changed, taking the form I had in my head.

Of course I didn’t tell my parents how I got the perfectly looking vegetables and fruits, but it saved the business, and I kept on doing it until I realized it waisted too much of my energy. 

I want to make sure I can keep this going for more time until we get better, so I want to know how to improve with my powers.

Jaehyun’s story:

Transforming is never easy you know? The way I have to shape my body into something new and different from my original form, is not easy at all. I can transform myself into other humans, animals and even objects. 

It causes my body to get stiff sometimes, and even if the things I transform into are a perfect copy of reality they have certain limits. Human limits I guess. 

I remember this one time I turned into a plane, to escape from a robbery we did at a famous bank, it was kind of epic, but I ended up crashing into the ocean half way. 

The rest is kind of history, everyone knows me and my mate. Rest in peace. But now I want to take a good turn and use my powers for good.  That’s why I came here. But I must say I think I have what it’s needed to be a leader, so if we need a lead I think I can do it.

Mark’s story:

Okay so I was in middle school when this happened. I was too angry at my classmates, because they were always you know bullying me. So the thought came out of nowhere and I was just looking at the boy, and then his nose started bleeding a lot. 

I thought it was just a coincidence, until I bumped into that guy. Yo he was raping a girl, and I got too angry and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know his veins would explode like that. 

He bleed out in front of my eyes, I will never forget how life escaped his eyes. But the girl kept saying I was a hero so I thought it wasn’t that bad you know. I had the good luck that I was wearing a costume for my theatre classes. 

Media named me as the bomb hero. They thought I used some sort of inner bombs, I don’t know honestly. I just want to control myself to have a normal life for once. 

Johnny’s story:

I thought they were healing powers at first. My mother was at the hospital when I first noticed. I wanted her to get back to normal, and I guess I did. The thing is that I have to know exactly what I want to do to the body.

I knew my mother needed that cancer out so I just pictured it out(? I don’t know how to explain I just did it and she got back at her normal self instantly. 

But It is also harmful, like my brother Mark, I can make organs and veins explode, or modify them as I want, tho I’mm better at healing.

We came here together because we wanted to live as a family, without feeling weird or different. And I feel like we can get that in here.

Donghyuck’s story:

I discovered my powers a week ago but you already know that, you also probably know that I’m the most powerful out everyone here, so I don’t get the point of sharing my story when you literally recruited me. 

972: Lee Donghyuk, it’s a formal aspect we all agreed on, please do as you were told.

The robotic voice resounds all over the room, provocking me to sigh. “Fine. You want to know what I do?” I say, concentrating for a second, before I make the gravity dissappear on the said room. Everyone started to float in the air as I kept my feet on the ground. 

Then gravity came back, when I stopped controlling it, making them all fall into the ground. 

“You didn’t have to do that asshole” Jaehyun said in the distance, and I smiled to his stupid expression. “There’s no point in this anyway” I say, but everything turned a weird shade of blue fastly.

972: Welcome to the unit 127, you have been selected to the protection unit, you will be assigned with daily missions around the world that you will have to accomplish. I will always be watching your actions and if you go against the companies policies, we will inform the police to take you away. As long as you are here you are protected. 972 will always look after you.

“Are you like us?” Mark asked from the distance. The robotic voice answered a yes, that felt odd for everyone, but Taeyong started speaking the truth “She is more powerful than us and she’s leggit. Also she’s hiding behind that wall” The boy speaked calmly. 

Jaehyun turned into one of the security guards body, breaking the glass that was covering the misterious girl with a stong punch. Her soft and calmed expression got us all. She got out of the cage she was in gently, supporting herself on one of the guard’s hand. 

“You didn’t have to break that” She says calmly, repairing the broken mirror like nothing. The pieces slowy got back to place, like nothing had happened, at all. “I trust your ability of keeping secrets from now on, Lee Taeyong” her voice said calmly to the boy who simply nodded.

And like that she left the room, leaving us behind with all sorts of doubts. But I guess that’s how 972 worked, always wanting to keep the misterious atmosphere.

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

This is like a character introductions sorta so be patient for more parts pleaseee

Masterlist --requests open-- How to request?  Check out your score.

[saiilorstars]

Hearts’ Limit

Ch. 2: Real Intentions

Current Masterlist // Masterlist of all OCs

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Sonny Carisi x OFC

Summary: As the case keeps unfolding, the squad realizes the actual target after Emilia makes a hesitant call to Sonny.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog ​ @maaaaarveeeeel ​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles ​ @averyhotchner​ [If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s edits/works, let me know!]

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Rachel Quinn turned out to be yet another person who had nothing good to say about the victim, Evelyn.

"According to Rachel," Amanda Rollins cleared her throat to better address the rest of the team, "Evelyn made an enemy out of everyone in the school. She doesn't think a parent did this."

"Maybe we should stop thinking about this as a two-person job," Fin said. "We thought that the accomplice lured Evelyn—it's why we assumed it was a woman in the first place."

Olivia nodded. "So far, all the female suspects were cleared."

"Exactly, so maybe this was always a one-man job."

"Should we go back and look at the male employees in the school?" asked Nick.

"Even if we did, it's not likely that their backgrounds are going to be flagged," Sonny said. "It's a school. Everyone gets background checks."

"Either way, it would be a good idea to start again," Olivia decided. "If we're going to look at this as a one-man job, we need to go back to the very beginning."

~ 0 ~

Emilia searched through her classroom cubby over and over until Alice came by. "What are you looking for?" she asked with bemusement.

Emilia wasn't so happy. She was puzzled. "I can't find my scrunchie."

Alice snorted. "Seriously?"

Emilia turned around to the woman, her lips curving into a frown. "We're doing art today and I really don't feel like getting red highlights too."

Alice laughed and headed for the tables. "Serves you right for not getting a haircut."

Emilia patted her long curls. "I like my hair." She groaned. The children would be arriving soon and they needed to be ready. "Whatever, I'm going to use a rubber band, I guess." She reached inside the cubby for her bag.

"You carry rubber-bands in your bag?" Alice snorted again after catching Emilia digging through her bag.

"You never know when you'll need one." Emilia's hands slipped and dropped the bag, letting out a few things in the process. "Dammit!"

"Don't let the kids hear that," Alice returned to help pick up what was on the ground.

"Ha, ha, so funny," Emilia playfully rolled her eyes.

"Oh, what's this?" Alice picked up her wallet that had fallen too. A white slip of paper was sticking out from one of the outside pockets.

"Give me that!" Emilia tried snatching it from her but Alice stuck her hand in the air.

"Isn't this the card that detective gave you?" Alice's eyes twinkled with mischief. "The cute one with the accent?"

Emilia shook her head. She focused on putting her stuff back into her purse so she could then battle for the wallet if necessary.

"Have you called him?" Alice asked, bringing a corner of the card to her chin.

"Of course not," Emilia stood back up. "He gave that to me in case of an emergency. Thankfully, I haven't had a need for it." Everything had been relatively calm in these few days and she wanted to keep it that way. She already had plenty of parents pestering her with questions about Evelyn's case anyways.

"Well, I think you should call," Alice handed the wallet back to Emilia. "Even if it's just to say 'hello'."

"Yeah, I'll think about it," Emilia said before throwing her wallet into her cubby.

"Something tells me you're not going to think about it," Alice watched Emilia shut the cubby.

"Noo, what would give you that impression?" Emilia smiled on her way past Alice. She stretched the rubber-band then picked up her hair into a high ponytail.

~ 0 ~

By the end of the school day, both teachers were ready to go home. They gathered their belongings and headed for the parking lot.

"I'm telling you, I'm going to need a double espresso shot tomorrow," Alice was joking on their way for the cars. "These kids are extra energetic lately."

Emilia agreed with a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Did you see the mess that Adrien made? I shouldn't even be surprised. He's all in for arts."

Alice nodded. "Oh yeah."

Their shared laugh was cut short when Emilia stopped in front of her car. She blinked several times before coming to the conclusion that she was seeing right.

"Is that…?" Alice started asking when Emilia headed for the car. "Emilia, wait!" The brunette stopped abruptly and glanced back at Alice. "I think...I think maybe you should make that call now."

Emilia was reluctant even when the sign was right in front of her. "I don't…"

"Emilia," Alice said again, her tone harder than before, "Make the call."

Emilia bit her lip and took another look at her windshield.

~ 0 ~

"There's only ten male workers in the school," Nick said as he placed the last potential suspect's picture on the evidence board. "You have the principal, four teachers, two playground supervisors, one maintenance and two janitors."

"Anyone standing out so far?" Olivia asked.

Amanda bobbed her head. "Nothing in the initial search."

"Let's make that search go deeper, then. Let's start with the men who had any disagreement with Evelyn."

"I bet we can start with the principal then," Fin smiled. "If he was the head then he definitely had incidents with Evelyn."

"Countless," Sonny added, earning an agreeing point from Fin. "I bet the supervisors had to have something too. If the daughter fell a couple times, Evelyn might have had a word with them."

"Get that going," Olivia gestured.

The timing was perfect because on his way to his desk, his phone started ringing. "Detective Carisi?"

"Detective, it's Emilia?"

Sonny stiffened before he even knew it. "Emilia, hi. Are you—"

"I don't know if it's important—"

"It's important!" Sonny was sure that the second voice in the background belonged to Alice.

"Emilia, are you in trouble?" He asked quickly.

"I-I don't...I'm not sure?" Emilia sounded nervous which only made Sonny feel the same way. "There's um...there's something on my car."

"Wh-what? What's...what's on your car? Emilia?"

"It might be nothing but, um...I think maybe you should come?"

"Where are you?" Sonny practically demanded from her; he would apologize later for his tone but right now he just needed to get to her and make sure she was okay.

"At the school in the parking lot. Alice is here with me."

"Okay, listen carefully, who's in the school right now?"

"I don't know. Lots of us?"

"Go back to the school and find a female employee—any female employee, alright? If possible a teacher so you can stay in that classroom."

"O-okay, I'll...I'll do that. Could you hurry? I'm, um, I don't really know what to do," Emilia swallowed hard. It was stupid and childish yet considering she was a grown adult who took care of children. She should know what to do!

"Of course, just do what I told you, okay? Do it!" Sonny ended the call quickly and turned to the others. They'd already gotten the just something was going on. "We have to go back to the school—Emilia might be in trouble." For some reason, it struck him more than it should've.

~ 0 ~

'You'll be safe now' was proudly written in a cardboard piece that now laid on the windshield of Emilia's car.

"Can we have the cameras from the lot?" Olivia was asking the principal of the school, ironically.

"They're not working right now," the principal, Jones, shook his head. "After the incident with Evelyn Korami, we decided to upgrade our security."

"Ah," Olivia pursed her lips. That clearly had not worked out so well.

"Hey," Amanda came by, "No one saw anything, as usual. The cardboard and the markers are all from the school. Anybody could've taken them."

"Are you sure this is even linked?" Jones asked. "It could be some prank."

"For now, we're going to treat it like it is," Olivia nodded. "And so I need to ask where were you in the last hour?"

"What?" Jones blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Very," Olivia put her hands together in front of her, making a show that was indeed waiting for his response.

Jones mumbled something under his breath but eventually answered. "I was on a phone conference. Feel free to verify that with the district."

"We will be," Olivia promised him then walked off with Amanda.

~ 0 ~

Emilia hadn't left the classroom she and Alice took refuge in after talking to Sonny. Now that a whole hour had passed by, it was starting to get a little harder to remain calm.

"I feel like I just made a big thing out of nothing," she told Sonny. "I have Alice locked inside this classroom when she had plans."

"I'm fine with it," Alice called from her spot. She was watching the cops from the window. Emilia rolled her eyes. "And stop rolling your eyes, Emilia." Alice glanced over to Sonny. "She didn't want to call you. She did the right thing, right?"

"Alice—" Emilia was about to scold when Sonny cut her off.

"Yes, she did," he met her gaze when her head flipped in his direction. "You did."

Emilia still wasn't quite convinced. "It's a trick or something. C'mon, this is a school, you can't possibly think somebody here did it and much more killed Evelyn too." Sonny didn't say anything but the face he made told her it was quite possible. "Oh no," she decided, "No, no, no! You're mad!" She turned on her heels and headed for her bag she left on one of the tables. "I thought maybe—just maybe—you might actually have a real lead but to say that someone here did it?"

"Emilia, you need to calm down," Sonny warned her, but he suspected it would do no good. She was too anxious and very much in denial. It all stemmed from the fear she had to have been feeling when she called him. "We need to talk—"

"No!" she said decidedly. "Because if we do, then you're going to start asking me who I think could've done it! Well, I'm not going to do it!"

"Emilia, maybe you should listen to him," Alice started but, like Sonny, Emilia shut her down.

"No! I shouldn't have called anyone! I should've just thrown that cardboard away and gone home!" Emilia walked, almost sprinted, towards the doors when Sonny caught her by the arm.

"Then you might not be here anymore!" he snapped. "I doubt that's what you want, right?"

Emilia faced him with a frown, though it resembled more of a child's expression when they were evidently wrong but didn't want to admit it. It was another reminder for Sonny that she was afraid. Everybody had different ways of showing they were afraid. Emilia's happened to be outbursts.

She tugged on her arm, prompting him to let go. "Of course not," she muttered. "But I just don't see anybody harming me, alright?"

"We don't know exactly what this guy wants…"

"But you do have an idea," Emilia said, eyes searching his. "I can tell from your face."

Suddenly, Sonny wished someone else had come talk to her because he was having a harder time with this case for some reason. He looked away from Emilia, hoping that a few seconds would be enough to reset his expressions.

"What do you think he wants from me?" Emilia asked in a much more calm way. She may be in a first graders' classroom but it didn't mean she had to be one. "Detective, you're telling me that it's possible someone in the school is responsible for all this stuff...so tell me why."

"It's...it's very preliminary," Sonny said, and that was probably already too much. He needed to wait for Olivia to confer on their next steps. He caught sight of Emilia's eyes—a warm green shade—intently looking at him. They urged him to tell the truth, even if it was bad or wrong, but the power to tell him was there.

"That's not enough, detective," Emilia spat and moved for the doors again.

"Emilia!" Sonny called for her.

Thankfully, she didn't make it out since Olivia came in. "Miss Hartley," she said, blinking a bit quickly from almost crashing into Emilia. "I'm Sergeant Benson, we need to have a word."

Emilia pursed her lips together. "I just told your detective I was on my way home."

Olivia briefly crossed gazes with Sonny. He shook his head at her, indicating Emilia wasn't willing to cooperate again. "I understand you're feeling a little confused right now, scared, but it's very important that we speak."

"Emilia," called Alice again, "Please listen to them. They're here to help you. Quit acting like a child."

Emilia looked over her shoulder. "I'm not," she mumbled.

"Then show it."

"We can take you to the precinct if you'd be more comfortable there," Olivia offered.

Emilia barely had a clue of what she wanted but the one thing that she was sure about is that she did not want to see a precinct. "No, I'd rather stay here."

Olivia nodded. "Alright, you and Miss…?" She waited for Alice to fill in the blank.

"O'Shire," she eventually said. "But please, just Alice."

"Okay, so you and Alice were in the classroom doing what?"

"Cleaning," Emilia said, gesturing to the chairs sitting on top of the tables. "We like to do a quick disinfect before the janitors come in."

"Did anyone come in today? Maybe to ask when you were leaving?"

"No," Emilia shook her head with a sigh. "Alice and I did our routine just like any other day."

"Wait, so that means you leave at the same time every day, then...right?" Sonny's question made Emilia turn back.

"I...I guess…" she said quietly, realizing what he was trying to say.

"If they know your routine, then it means they knew exactly when to leave that message on your windshield."

Emilia brought a hand to her forehead. "Oh my God, this has never happened to me. I'm...I'm so confused. What did I do?"

"Nothing," Olivia said sternly. "None of this is your fault."

"But…" Emilia dropped her hand to her side, "That message...what does that message mean?" She looked between Olivia and Sonny for an answer. "Because it means something, right? I'm just not seeing it."

"Let's...I'd much rather know about your day," Olivia said, "Like if there were any male co-workers that may have come up to you today?"

"They're my co-workers, of course they would."

"Any strange interaction?"

"No…"

"How about anything strange that happened today? Anything."

"No and no, nothing happened," Emilia sighed.

"Em, what about the scrunchie?" Alice suddenly asked.

Emilia turned to her friend in annoyance. "Alice, seriously?"

"They said anything and you never lose your stuff!"

"What happened?" Sonny looked between the two women. "Did something go missing today?"

Emilia rolled her eyes at Alice. "It's stupid, I...I lost my scrunchie. My hair tie?" she pointed to the rubberband currently holding her hair in its ponytail. "I thought I left it in my cubby but it's not there. But I'm pretty sure it's at home or something."

"Now hold on," Olivia motioned her not to jump to conclusions, "Your friend says you don't lose stuff very often."

"She doesn't," Alice confirmed. "She's a neat freak. And a good organizer."

"Alice," Emilia scolded wearily. "No one steals hair ties, not even a murderer and rapist."

Olivia pursed her lips. She didn't want to outright say what she was thinking and burst Emilia's bubble of denial. It was what was keeping her together for the moment. "Carisi?" she made a motion for him to follow her to the door. Emilia then scurried to Alice's side.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Sonny quietly spoke.

Olivia nodded. "It's a possibility. Evelyn Korami had an argument with Emilia last week. It may not have been so random as we thought. This guy's real target could be Emilia."

And here was Emilia who didn't believe a thing.

"How do you want to do this, Sarge?" Sonny felt like whatever plan Olivia came up with, it would be met with hostility from Emilia. "She doesn't want to answer questions anymore."

"The more we push, the less cooperative she'll be," Olivia agreed. She took in a breath and called for Emilia and Alice. "Miss Hartley, we're going to place you under protective custody."

Emilia stared at the pair with wide, incredulous eyes—the initial reaction they both expected—until she laughed. "Right…" Alice wasn't laughing. Olivia and Sonny were both staring at her until it donned on her. "Oh! Oh no!" She shook her head. "No way!"

"I know it's hard to believe—"

"No!" Emilia waved Olivia off. "I'm not—this has gone long enough! I'm not doing this! Nope!"

"It's for your own safety," Sonny tried to say but Emilia aggressively pointed at him to be quiet.

"I don't want to hear anything from you! I should've never called you!" That being said, she then directed her finger to Alice. "And I should've never listened to you!" She stormed out of the classroom without hearing anyone anymore.

"I swear she's a lot better than this," Alice said afterwards. "I think she's just pretty freaked out."

"We get it, trust us," Olivia assured her. She and Sonny went after Emilia.

Emilia was fast on her feet and was out of the school in mere seconds. "You need to leave me alone!" she told the pair.

"Emilia, you need to stop and you know it," Sonny barely got to say before she spun around to show her glare.

"I am not responsible for Evelyn's death—"

"No one is saying that—"

"But that's what they're going to think!" Emilia stomped her foot when the frustration managed to seep through her features. "If this is real, if it's actually real then everyone is going to blame me because this guy wants me!"

"But it's not the truth," Olivia gently said. "You are not responsible for the actions of others."

Emilia shook her head. "No," she wagged her finger then headed for her car again. "It's not real."

"Just because you say it, doesn't make true," Sonny said.

"No!" she snapped. "Now I know why you're single—you keep disagreeing with women!"

Sonny's eyebrows raised together. "Uh, okay…"

Emilia hurried for her car. The scene was clear but the cardboard was still on her windshield. She reached for it and chucked it to the side. She was about to move for the driver's side when she caught sight of something purple behind it.

Her scrunchie. Her flower-patterned, purple scrunchie was neatly tucked on the windshield.

The air left Emilia's lungs for a moment when she realized what must have happened. She swallowed hard. Olivia and Sonny came up behind her and saw what she was staring at.

"Emilia," Olivia started, "Let us help you."

"That was...that was in my cubby," Emilia gulped. "It was in the back, behind my bag. I don't lose my things and I certainly don't put them on my windshield." She brought her hand to her bag's strap and gripped it for dear life. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately, yes, but it doesn't have to end badly," Olivia said. "We can help you. Why don't you come back with us to the precinct? We can set everything up over there."

Emilia said nothing for a minute, making the others worry she still wasn't going to let them help her. "Can...can the detective bring me there?" she asked very quietly, so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

"Uh…" Olivia glanced at Sonny who was just as surprised as she was. Emilia had been yelling at him a minute ago. "Sure, yeah...Carisi?"

"Of course," he stepped up beside Emilia who had yet to move since she found the scrunchie. "Emilia?"

The brunette slowly turned to him. "Yeah, I'm listening now. Promise."

"That's good, really. You're making a good choice." He really didn't like the expression on her face right now. "Are you ready?"

"Aha," she nodded. He motioned the way and without protesting, she walked with him.

[andrewminyard3]

Memories

Summary: Neil comforts Andrew after experiencing a terrible nightmare/flashback. Andrew considers what memories are and what they can be.

Warnings: PTSD flashback and scene with Drake. No actual rape scene, but it is heavily alluded to. Please take caution when reading.

Andrew tugged the cuffs securing his wrists to the bedpost. He was lying on his stomach face down in a pillow, unable to see when he would be coming back. Andrew bit his tongue trying not to cry. Drake loved it when he saw Andrew crying. It meant that what Drake is doing is bothering him, and getting a reaction out of Andrew was Drake’s addiction that no amount of tears Andrew shed can satiate. He refused to give Drake that satisfaction when he’s already taken everything else.

“Oh sweet little AJ,” Drake mocked leaning against the doorframe admiring Andrew’s naked body. “Still haven’t figured out those cuffs, huh?”

“Give me the fucking key,” Andrew demanded through gritted teeth.

Drake didn’t answer him, but approached the bed running a finger up Andrew’s leg starting at his ankle, dragging his nail all the way up his body slowly. He dug his nail deeper on Andrew’s back, leaving a small pink line, then brought his hand up to Andrew’s face. Drake forcefully squeezed Andrew’s cheeks together in one hand making his lips push out. Drake pressed a sloppy kiss on Andrew’s lips and pulled back, not letting go of Andrew’s face, making him look at his attacker.

“Say please.”

“Fuck you,” Andrew spat.

Drake stepped back, wiping the saliva off his cheek where it landed. His tall, muscular, tattooed body stood over Andrew, eyes lighting up with fire.

“And to think I was being nice to you before. Being so gentle with you, but fuck that. I’m going to tear you apart, you worthless piece of unwanted shit.”

Drake’s voice was pure venom in Andrew’s veins. He felt his entire body go cold and grabbed onto the headboard frame tightly. He felt Drake climb on top of him and bit the pillow to fight back the scream that tore at his throat.

“Andrew, wake up! It’s just a dream, wake up!”

Andrew sits up violently in bed and swings his fist into the person hovering over him. If it’s a fight Drake wants, it’s a fight he’ll get.

“Fuck,” Neil groans grabbing his stomach as the wind is knocked out of him. 

“Neil?” Andrew gasps, taking in his surroundings.

He is home. He’s inside his apartment, in his bedroom, on his bed, while Neil is curled up on the floor attempting to force oxygen back into his lungs. 

“Neil,” Andrew repeats, unsure of what else to say.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Neil promises as he starts finding his breath. “I know not to touch you when you’re asleep. It’s just that, you were screaming and--”

“Yeah, it was... It was a really bad one,” Andrew interrupts. “Next time, I’ll try not to hit so hard.”

“Not hitting at all would be an excellent goal to work towards,” Neil laughs, finally finding his breath, “but I’ll take what I can get.”

Andrew gives him a smirk in response to his sarcasm and exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Neil stands up to face his boyfriend who is observing a string on his pajama bottoms like it holds the answers to the unknown universe. Neither Andrew nor Neil say anything for what feels like hours, but according to the alarm clock on the end side table has only been a minute.

Staring at the string, Andrew goes through the facts. Fact 1, Drake isn’t here. Fact 2, Drake isn’t here because he’s dead. Fact 3, Drake can’t hurt him anymore. Fact 4, Neil is here with him. Fact 5, due to the consequences of fact 4, he is safe. Or as safe as anyone can be, Andrew supposes. 

“Well I’ll get some hot cocoa going then. Go ahead and meet me in the lounge,” Neil says pulling on a pair of pajama shorts and loose fitting hoodie.

“What?” Andrew questions, wondering if he missed something while lost in thought.

“You’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, are you?” Neil asks.

“Hell no.”

“Then go on. Put a shirt on, or don’t, I don’t care. I’ll meet you in the lounge. You like those little marshmallows in yours, right?’

Andrew nods slowly and follows Neil out of the bedroom into the shared lounge and kitchen area. It’s nothing short of a miracle he didn’t wake up anyone else in the apartment with his screaming. Now that he has calmed down a little, Andrew can feel the hoarseness in his throat that only comes after yelling and sobbing in pure terror. It has been years since his throat hurt like this, but the memory makes his entire body ache. He sits himself down on the sofa and stares at the blank TV screen as he hears mugs clinking together. After a few moments, Neil makes his way over to Andrew, a mug in each hand, and gives the one overflowing with marshmallows to Andrew. Andrew wraps his hands around the mug, not caring that it’s hot enough to leave his palms bright red.

“Use the handle,” Neil says gently, finally breaking the silence. 

Andrew says nothing in response but places his mug on the coffee table in front of them. He tucks his legs into his chest and looks away from the red haired boy, unable to handle the look of concern and love in his eyes.

“I need a smoke,” Andrew says, picking at the loose thread on his pajama pants.

“Later,” Neil promises. “We should talk about--”

“It isn’t any of your concern,” Andrew snaps. “Plus there’s nothing to talk about. Just had a nightmare about a vampire chasing me trying to kill me. No. Big. Deal.”

“Lying is my thing,” Neil says, setting down his mug next to Andrew’s. 

Andrew doesn’t say anything for a long time, but finally sighs knowing Neil won’t give up that easily.

“It was a flashback or something. I don’t know how this stuff works.”

“You don’t have to know how it works,” Neil tells him, encouraging Andrew to continue. 

“I was--laying there,” Andrew manages finally, holding his wrists together as if to illustrate what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And Drake. He was--on top of me. I couldn’t get him off of me.”

“Yes or no?”

When Andrew gives a slight nod, Neil places his hands on either side of Andrew’s face. He tilts his head into Neil’s touch and closes his eyes to hold back a tear threatening to escape. He won’t cry; not in front of Neil. Not in front of anyone.

“Is this something you’d rather talk with Betsy about? I don’t want you to think you have to talk to me. You just need to talk to someone,” Neil says, gliding his thumb across Andrew’s soft cheek, still warm with sleep.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Andrew replies softly, opening his eyes to look at Neil’s.

He runs his hand over Neil’s bicep and down his arm, his hand finally finding Neil’s and intertwining their fingers. Andrew lifts their hands and brings them up to his lips, giving the back of Neil’s hand a soft kiss before letting go and reaching for a marshmallow at the top of his mug. He pops it in his mouth chewing on it longer than he should before finally swallowing it, feeling a weight still lingering in his stomach.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” Neil suggests, pulling Andrew up.

Andrew, still shirtless from his sleep, follows Neil out on the balcony to sit on the ledge, looking down at the empty sidewalk while crickets chirp endlessly. Neil lights a cigarette, takes a drag, then passes it to Andrew, blowing the smoke away from their faces. Andrew inhales feeling the toxic chemicals burn his throat and holds his breath for a moment. He finally exhales and hands the cigarette back to Neil, looking out at the campus.

Memory lives in the senses. Andrew knows this as fact. Everytime he closes his eyes, he sees Drake, smells the laundry detergent Cass uses on the pillow his face is buried in, feels the sharp pain all over his body, hears his own screams as he begs Drake to stop, tastes his salty tears as they fall from his eyes and onto his lips. Memory is not an action, but all five senses colliding in an inescapable symphony until the conductor finally lowers his arms; a sight, a smell, a feeling, a sound, a taste. Having one memory is a curse; having an eidetic memory is a cruel joke repeatedly played on him by the most unforgiving universe demanding he break and fall to his knees. Andrew flicks his eyes over to Neil who is blowing out another puff of smoke, then stubs out the half finished cigarette. 

“You’re shivering,” Neil says softly, running his fingertips over the goosebumps on Andrew’s arms.

“Thanks for the update,” Andrew remarks, only noticing now how chilly the night air is on his bare skin.

Neil leaves to go inside coming out a handful of seconds later with a hoodie. Andrew recognizes it as Neil’s, even without seeing ‘Josten’ written across the back of it. He takes it when Neil offers it to him and slides it on over his messy hair, pulling the sleeves down over his hands so that only his fingers are visible. He feels himself shiver now that the warmth of the hoodie exaggerates the cold on his skin and ducks into the fabric even further. He inhales and smells Neil’s scent, a mixture of his deodorant and laundry soap; something like a forest mixed with lavender. 

“Is this seat taken?” Neil asks pointing directly behind Andrew.

He shrugs and scoots half an inch forward, giving Neil the okay to slide in behind him and pull Andrew back so that he is resting against Neil’s chest. Neil wraps his arms around Andrew in a tight embrace and hums softly to a song Andrew assumes is made up.

“You’re tired and we have practice early in the morning. Go to bed,” Andrew tells Neil, grabbing onto the arms wrapping around his chest.

“So bossy,” Neil teases, giving the back of Andrew’s neck a kiss. “I’m fine right here, thanks.”

Andrew is glad Neil can’t see the small smile that touches the corner of his lips. He leans back into Neil and studies his profile as if seeing it for the first time. Andrew places a soft kiss on Neil’s jaw and closes his eyes.

Memory lives in the senses. Andrew knows this as fact. He hopes that with enough time, memory becomes this: stealing quick glances at Neil, the smell of a crisp autumn night and Neil’s hoodie, feeling arms tightly around him in a protecting embrace, the sound of crickets battling each other to be the loudest, and the taste of sweet marshmallows and nighttime kisses.

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 14)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2471

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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

You got home, shutting the door behind you and Spence all but ran from the kitchen to greet you. 

“You’re home. I thought…”

“What? That I left? Nope. Suitcase is still here,” you lazily said, gesturing up the stairs. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry… I should’ve told you sooner, because you’re right, keeping this from you only made the secret stronger and that’s not right.” 

You pressed your lips together, letting him speak. Besides, you had nothing more to say at this point anyway. 

“When I get back to work, I’m going to tell Emily about our situation and that I don’t want to be paired up with her during cases.”

You crossed your arms.

“Y/N, please… Say something?”

You uncrossed your arms and held them out. “What do you want me to say, Spencer? I’m… Look, I’m hurting here. Do you have any idea how this looks? How this feels? She’s had years to tell you this, and she waits until I’m out of the state, out of the picture to do it. I’m not…” You heaved a sigh. “I’m pissed at her because this is just fucked up. She’s married, with kids, she’s had time to say something. But you… Spencer, now I’m worried that when I leave, something will happen between you two. I have no idea how you really feel. You kept this a secret. You didn’t tell her no right away. I feel like… like now I have to compete with someone for your attention, your affection, your love.”

“That’s preposterous. I love you. You don’t have to compete with anyone. JJ’s married, she’s a mother, I’m the godfather. That’s just--”

“And if she wasn’t? What then? If she wasn’t married, wasn’t a mother, would you be interested?” For a moment, you heaved a sigh, running your hands through your hair. 

“I--” Spence started, but you held your hand up to signal for him to stop. You really weren’t interested in his answer at that moment. 

“No. My point is, I’m suddenly feeling like I can’t trust you and that our marriage is shakey. I left for this job, feeling secure in our relationship. Now, when I leave I’m constantly going to worry that you two will just break vows to be together. If you didn’t have a crush on her years ago, it would be one thing, but I can’t help but wonder if you didn’t move on simply because JJ did. Maybe you never really did, and now it’s your chance to be with her.”

“Y/N... “ He stepped towards you and put his hands on your shoulders. “I love you, and no one but you, alright? I know I screwed up, I know I did. But I want to feel secure in knowing that because I told you, we still do have trust. If I was going to act on some secret feelings, I wouldn’t have told you about it.”

You nodded. “I know… It just took you too long to tell me, that’s what bothers me.”

“It took me so long because I tried to put it out of my mind.”

“I’m sure you did. I don’t doubt that, but it’s going to take me some time to really believe that you don’t feel anything back.” 

“I don’t and I’ll do whatever I can to prove it to you.”

“The case thing would help. I really don’t want you two alone to feed her fantasies or anything while you’re working. I know Emily will be discreet.” 

“Absolutely. So, you think you can forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you, it’s not about that. It’s about feeling like it’s safe for me to return to Miami. It is right? I don’t need to stay here and monitor the two of you?”

“No. I feel nothing but friendship for JJ.” 

“Good.” You nodded and he kissed your head.

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

Back down in Miami, it was two days after Spencer had told you about the confession. Things were still rocky between you two and frankly, you weren’t sure you still felt as close with Spencer as when you first went back home. This whole JJ thing had really gotten under your skin.

Because you knew he’d understand, you were standing outside Dexter’s door, after you settled in at your own apartment. You pounded your fist on the door. 

“Dex, open up, I need to talk,” you shouted. 

After a few seconds, you heard the lock coming undone and Dexter opened the door. 

“Hey, Y/N, kinda late. Could we do this tomorrow?” he asked. 

“Do you have company?” you asked.

“Well no, but--”

You pushed passed him and stood inside the entrance area.

“Yes, please, let yourself in,” he said, giving you his bitch face.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not like you where I can just take out all my frustrations with a kill. I need a friend, someone who knows everything about me.” 

“What’s going on?” he asked, he could tell something was off.

“I’ve got a coworker, JJ, apparently, about a month ago, when I went up there for my boss’s wedding, she told Spence she’s in love with him. And I’m ready to kill her.”

“Woah… Okay…” he remarked, nodding. “What did he say?”

“Well according to him, he didn’t say anything at first. He never told her he didn’t feel that way. He said it was just implied.”

“Yikes,” he commented. 

“Yeah, yikes is fucking right. I can’t fucking believe her. I mean we’ve worked together for years. I trusted her, I trusted him. Now I don’t know if I can even leave them alone on a case.”

“You really don’t trust your husband now? I mean, to that degree?” 

You sighed, groaning as you sat down on the couch, putting your face in your hands. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m worried. See they went on a date, years ago, like fifteen years ago, long before I was in the picture at all. I know Spence had a bit of a crush on her before the date and for a while after the date.”

“Oh…” Dexter said, knowing that changed things a little. 

“Yeah. And not to mention,” you said, shooting up from the couch, pacing, “she did this while I’m down here. They said it was from this manipulation game an unsub was playing but I just think it’s really fucking funny that she waited until now.”

“Timing does seem weird.”

“Right? And I’ve got half a mind to just fucking destroy her. My marriage was fine, happy, healthy before this. Now I’m questioning and rethinking everything that’s happened between me and Spence. All the recent stuff, all the memories before now. I mean, does he want her but he just thought she didn’t want him? Now that he knows she wants him, is he going to try and pursue it? I’m losing my mind over here.”

“I don’t think your husband would ever be unfaithful. He definitely wouldn’t have waited for his friend to tell him about her feelings if he did.”

You groaned. “You’re right. I know. I know this is crazy. Even if she thinks for some reason she has a chance with Spence, she’d have to leave her husband, her kids. I don’t know, I just can’t shake the worry. I mean, who does that?!” 

“I need you to breathe, okay? Getting pissed off isn’t going to help anyone, alright? We both know you can’t and won’t kill her so just, calm down. Talk.” 

You listened to his instructions, trying to focus on your breathing, which was hard. You were still reeling from this. 

“I just… How could she do this? How could he do it?”

“Did he reciprocate the feelings?” 

“No but… he didn’t exactly make it clear they weren’t returned.”

“That could just him being a guy. From what I’ve heard of your husband, he doesn’t exactly sound like he’s got all of his social skills in tact. Take it from me.” 

You shook your head. “Yes, but this… I mean shouldn’t it be obvious, to tell someone that isn’t your wife that you don’t love them?”

He looked at you with an apology in his eyes. 

You sighed as you sat down on his couch, leaning forward on your elbows. 

“How did you two meet?” he asked casually once he sat down on the other couch. 

“You know how we met. The BAU,” you retorted, anger in your voice. You weren’t in the mood for games or stupid fucking questions. 

“No, that’s where you met. What drew you to him? Why him? There are other men you’ve worked with, other men you met in college. So why was Spencer special?”

You peered at him with a chastising gaze. “I know what you’re doing,” you informed. 

“If you know what I’m doing, then you’ll be mature about this and answer the question.” 

At that, you heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. Spencer is… Well I’ve always been attracted to big brains, right? If a guy can out think, outwit, out know everyone else in the room, I’m already hooked. He already had his Ph.D at 23. While I wasn’t that impressive, it blew my socks off. We got to cases and he saw patterns no one even thought of. He helped this autistic child once, he finally figured out how he could communicate with us. It was… magnificent to watch him work. He often rambles and I find it adorable. The rest of the team seems to get annoyed by it, but I just soak it up. He spouts so many amazing, interesting facts. The first few times he did it, he got teased from Morgan and Prentiss...They teased him and walked off. He stopped talking, looking a little dejected. I still wanted to hear what he had to say so I said, ‘So? What’s the rest?’ He looked at me like I just gave him the world. He asked, ‘You really want to hear the rest of it? Most of the time I lose people by now.’ I just laughed and nodded and told him that most people are stupid.”

Dexter had a half smile on his face. 

“We’ve been through everything… I swear….  It was me who noticed he wasn’t feeling right when we first started working together. I didn’t know him terribly well, but I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t on his A game. I helped him seek help for his problems. We faced the death of Emily, who was actually alive, but JJ and Hotch both made it seem very, very real. I’ve been with him while he struggles with not going back on Dilaudid.”

“He’s an addict?”

“Not by choice. An unsub gave him the drugs while he was kidnapped and he ended up hooked on them. He’s been clean for years, but when he starts to get too stressed…” 

“I can sympathize.” 

“I’m sure you can,” you noted, your tone loaded. “We’ve seen teammates die. I watched him go to prison, falsely. A psycho bitch set him up, he was in there for three months. How we survived apart, I will never know. They kidnapped his mother, they were going to kill her. God… I’d never seen Spence so upset. Hell, I’d never been so upset. He ended up strangling the woman who framed him.” You laughed. “God, that was so great to watch. She deserved far worse.” 

“Is that why you’re doing this?”

“Doing what? Getting mad? I’m getting mad because--”

He shook his head. “No, not that. Are you killing people because… because the people you chase have gone after your husband?”

“What? No. If that were the case, wouldn’t I be going after them? Not some sort of surrogate?”

“But what if they are a surrogate? You can’t kill them because it’d be suspicious and you don’t have it in you to do that. But killing other people that you feel do deserve death, it could be… therapeutic. Right?” 

You shook your head scoffing. “That’s just… No. That’s....” You looked at him, he was giving you an incredulous, challenging look. “No,” you said emphatically. 

“I’m not here to judge.” 

“But you are,” you corrected. “According to you, murder is inexcusable. So if I’m killing just to kill--”

“I don’t care what your reasons for killing are. As far as I’m concerned, your future victims are no better than mine. Yours kills innocent animals, mine kill innocent people. I can’t fault you for that.”

For a moment, you thought. “I don’t know. I’ll say all the shit that Spence has had done to him, doesn’t help me feel sympathy towards criminals, but it isn’t the sole reason.” 

Dex nodded. “I get it. Harry molded me to be what I am, I’m his tool. He couldn’t do it, but he saw that I could. His code told me there are bad people, and bad people get away. That’s where I come in.” 

Bobbing your head, you said, “And I’m still thankful that you do.” 

After a moment, he asked, “So what are you going to do? About this JJ mess?”

You sighed and fell back onto the couch. “Jesus, I have no idea.” 

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

“Hey, Spence, could we talk?” JJ asked as she approached him. 

“Um, sure? What’s up?” he wondered.

She pulled him aside, out into the hallway in a corner. “I can’t believe you told Will,” she said, anger clear in her voice. 

He wanted to correct her, before he thought better of it. You must’ve told Will, and he felt you had every right to. So he remained quiet. 

“He was so upset. It was the worst fight we’ve ever had. I thought you’d keep that between us.” She took a step closer and her eyes glanced around. 

“JJ, I don’t know what you think there is between us, but there’s nothing, alright? Will has a right to know.”

“Yeah, from me, no one else. I was going to tell him when I was ready.”

“Why does it matter when you’re ready? I’m married, you and I are just friends. So at this point, it’s just something one-sided for you to explain to him how you feel.”

“I’m married too, with kids, that doesn’t change how I feel. It’s not one-sided and you can’t convince me that it is.”

“Yes, it is,” he definitely said. “I don’t feel that way for you, JJ, at all.”

“You can stay in denial all you want, but I know the truth, Spence.” 

Garcia came down the hall just then with a wide smile on her face. “Hey friends! We’ve got a case!”

“We’ll be right in, Garcia,” Spencer promised.

“You know I’m right,” JJ said in a low tone before following Garcia to the conference room. 

He simply stood there, staring after her, annoyed and disgruntled.

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

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[ma-gic-gay]

TW: kidnapping (mentions), murder (mentioned, not gone into detail of), torture (again, just mentioned, not gone into detail of), sexual assault, hospital

He kissed her. With his crusty ass, never before heard of Chapstick, lips, he kissed her.

Oh, if only murder was legal.

"I'm so sorry he did that to you, Carly," he says, hugging her closer to him. "If I could, I'd kill him right now. I promise you. And I promise you, he will never be able to get near you or hurt you again. As long as I'm alive."

His blood boils as she continues, "I'm not sure if I can stand. He kicked me with steel toed boots."

How the fuck does someone feel like doing that? How does one get inspired to rape someone, to do something like this, traumatize them so severely?

"Do you want me to carry you out and into my car?" Jason offers and she nods, so that's what they do. The pair earn a few glances but everyone can sense he's not in the mood for questions, whatsoever, so no one asks any and they get into his car.

"Chase, he's going to ask me to recount what happened, right? Leave no detail out?"

"You won't have to answer any question that makes you uncomfortable or that you don't want to. Just tell me you don't want to answer it and he'll move on. I'll make him."

"You're not looking me in the eye," she notes. "Why not?"

"I don't know," he answers truthfully.

"Look me in the eye, Jason, and tell me everything's going to be okay," Carly requests and he does. He finally looks her in the eyes and it fills him with sadness and love and anger. Sadness because she's crying and because he can see the marks where she was slapped, where she was injured, where the duct tape was. Love because, well, that's just how they always are. Anger because of what Cyrus did to her. How Cyrus hurt her and only got mad he was caught. How much worse it could've been for her.

"Everything's going to be okay," he says, for both of their sakes before putting the seatbelt over himself and driving to the hospital. Yet again, he says screw you to traffic signs and speeds; she's clearly in bad shape.

Oh, Cyrus is going to die. Whether it be by his gun (preferable), or by someone else's, that bastard is going to die for doing this to her.

They get into GH, him carrying her still, and encounter Elizabeth. Hopefully Carly's not in the mood for a fight. "Jason? Carly? What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm fine and dandy, Elizabeth. Just wanted to see your smiling face," Carly says sarcastically. Looks like she's still in the mood for a fight, even traumatized. "Can we get an ER bed for me and a doctor?"

"Yeah, sure," the younger agrees, leading them to a bed. "What kind of doctor do you need?"

"Just get me Dr. Finn. And Britt, god help me," the blonde instructs and Elizabeth's eyes widen. She knows. "What are you staring at, Lizzie?"

Scoffing, Elizabeth leaves before fighting her. Thank god. This would be a really fucking inconvenient time for it. She'd definitely lash out and say something stupid. "I know, I know, I shouldn't have picked a fight. Just couldn't resist."

"Well, the fight didn't happen, so you're good on that front," Jason half chuckles, putting her down on the bed carefully.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, just worried about you."

"Every time I close my eyes, it's like I'm back in that room and Cyrus is making out with me all over again and I felt so disgusted but he looked like he was having fun. Like I was a prize he had won, or like he was getting joy out of kidnapping me, like raping me would be the most fun he'd had in years," Carly says, sobbing almost silently through her words.. "And I can feel his lips against mine and it makes me sick because I don't want him within 100 feet of me, forget about kissing me."

"If I could, I would take this away from you. The pain and the everything you're going through. You don't deserve this," he informs her, brushing away her tears with his fingertips.

Anger and heartache are all he feels right now, seeing the normally so strong and passionate woman beside him breaking down and in pain. It's a painful thing for him to watch, even more painful for him to know Cyrus is going to probably live. Sadly. Sick bastard will probably not even be put in solitary.

He can't push down his emotions today, not with this. It's not great, but at the same time, it's not the worst.

"His lips were so crusty," she describes. "Like he'd never heard of Chapstick in his life. He clearly liked me, I could tell that, but he started stripping me while he was kissing me and I kept saying no, I tried to pull him off of me, but I wasn't able to. After he called you, it only got worse. It was like he was obsessed with me or something and so he kept going on and on about how I was his or whatever, how you would die if you tried to save me. That part scared me more than what he was doing, that he thought he was going to kill you."

"He wasn't able to. He won't be able to kill me, or live a life out of a solitary confinement maximum security prison ever. I promise you," Jason swears and she smiles.

"It felt like I was going to die there. Like the world was ending and I'd never get to see anyone I cared about again. I'd never get to get into another fight, or hug you again, or do something stupid and impulsive that you'd have to fix," Carly sobs quietly, "and I hated that thought. I know you don't like it when I do stupid things," he nods his agreement, smiling slightly, "but we all know that I'll do it again. And I, I kept thinking about you and the kids. Donna shouldn't grow up without a mother and I can't leave the rest of them without one. I thought about how you said you couldn't live with yourself if he killed me and how I wouldn't want you to suffer."

"We don't need to think like that, Carly. We're alive."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't think I'm able to close my eyes or stop talking because I feel like he's kissing me again and I'm in that room again. Not to mention, it killed the good memories we have in that room," she says and he pulls her in for yet another hug.

She, however, has a different idea and kisses him. Confused, he kisses back. No clue what inspired that, but now they're kissing. Again.

"Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Corinthos, would now be a good time for questioning?" Chase asks, awkwardly shifting his weight.

"Yeah, as good a time as any," Carly agrees as they abruptly end the kiss.

They've got to talk about that later.

"Alright, great. So, Mrs. Corinthos, where were you when you were kidnapped?"

"The Metro Court. I had been called in because we were sort a staff member and so I filled in. I was on my way out when I was kidnapped."

"And how exactly were you taken?"

"Against my will," she cracks, "by some dude who grabbed me and gagged me before putting me in the back of his truck."

That dude is dying too, the second Jason sees him.

"When you got there, did you know that Cyrus had taken you?"

"I figured."

"Did Cyrus assault you?"

"Yes. He, um, he slapped me across the face repeatedly because I rejected his advances and kicked me with boots," Carly says, beginning to sob again. "And if you're asking for sexually, yes. He kissed me, made out with me, and tried to have sex with me, after I said no, after I'd told him to get off of me. He jacked off in front of me with his hands and managed to get one of his fingers in me too. Cyrus stripped me down to my underwear and was probably going to take that off when Jason showed up."

Bastard, he thinks while even Jason is tearing up. It takes a lot to make him cry, much less she'd a tear, so everyone in the room can sense just how serious it is.

"Mrs. Corinthos, can you please describe what you went through to me, in detail?"

"Didn't I just do that?" Carly scoffs before whispering, "I can't answer this, I can't relive this. Not right now, at least. I just can't."

"It's best if we-"

"She said she can't relive it right now. Can you blame her?" Jason asks, glaring at Chase. "Move onto your next question, detective."

"That's really it. You two enjoy your evening. I'll be in touch soon."

Chase leaves and Carly breaks down again, sobbing loudly and worrying him even more than he's already worried for her. Which is really saying something, considering that he's about as worried as one can get.

Finn enters, with Britt not far behind him. "Sorry we took so long, I see my idiot brother pushed you too far. I'm sorry for him," Finn greets, earning a smile out of them all.

"Thanks," Carly accepts before changing the topic to medical things. "My legs are killing me, and I'm in physical pain practically everywhere. Cyrus slapped me, kicked me, punched me everywhere he could find skin. He, uh, he also jerked himself off in front of me and then managed to get a finger inside of me, so I need to make absolutely sure I'm not pregnant."

Everyone does a double take at that, Jason's hands balling into fists. Oh, the things he's going to put Cyrus through if he ever sees the light of day again. The tortures and violent attacks and emotional turmoil.

He's not a bad person, but he is fantasizing about killing one.

At the same time, right now, Carly needs him. More than anything, that's what she needs right now. And if she needs him, he's there for her.

"Alright. Well, do you mind if we take you up for some x-ray's? It'll only be for a few minutes and if you like, we can sedate you," Finn offers. "So you can sleep without dreaming of what just happened to you."

"If you want to be sedated, I can run all my tests while you are," Britt offers. "They're non-invasive, but it's always an option."

"Jason, what do you think?"

"If I were you, I'd go with the sedation," he offers up his advice.

"I'll take the sedative then, please."

They agree and have her sign some medical consent form before administering the sedative and taking her up for her exams.

Which leaves Jason alone with all the time until the sedative wears off, which he's been informed is two hours, to think and plan and think some more.

He should probably call her kids, let them know what's going on, but he's not sure if that's what she'd want right now.

So he doesn't, and he simply sits and thinks.

To be continued later in life when I'm not sleep deprived (well lol we can hope so it'll be continued tomorrow)

._.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 140

Chapter Summary - Tom discusses his part in a BBC show that he will soon film "Leading Lady Parts" and his want to help with the MeToo and TimesUp movements, the latter of which Danielle is not overly pleased about, for some realistic reasons.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1@black-ninja-blade

Danielle looked into the living room, seeing Tom focusing on something. She knew he had been talking to the BBC regarding a short piece, but nothing more, yet she knew it was something he seemed to be taking incredibly serious. More so than he did most other pieces. When she saw him put down the paper he had been holding in his hands, remove his glasses and sigh, rubbing them over his face, she walked forward, his back to her as he sat on the couch and let him know she was there before putting her hands on his shoulders and rubbing the muscles there and on his neck, causing him to groan as she worked into the muscles. ‘You’re stressed.’

‘You’re really good at that.’

‘Move forward.’ She ordered. As soon as he did that, she started rubbing his shoulder blades too, causing him to make sounds of pleasure. ‘Are you alright, Love?’

‘I was asked to do a piece for the BBC.’

‘Yes, you mentioned that.’ She acknowledged, getting the tension out of his shoulder.

‘It is with Catherine Tate.’

‘A comedy piece?’

‘Yes, of sorts.’

‘I love her. She was so funny as Lauren and the Posh Mum.’ Tom chuckled remembering the old skits Tate had done in the past. ‘So, what is “sort of”?’ Danielle asked.

‘It is sort of a Black Humour piece.’

‘Right?’

‘So it is called “Leading Lady Parts”.’ Tom explained, Danielle, giving him a peculiar look. ‘No, nothing about genitalia.’ he added, knowing her twisted sense of humour.

‘So, what is it?’

‘Well, different women come in for a lead part of all different looks and ethnicities, and the casting directors state everything they are lacking or should alter for the part, which is essentially everything about themselves they cannot change, then I walk in and say I am applying for the part and get it there and then.’

‘Okay, that will be a little odd. I am sure some idiots on the internet will think you are actually trying to take women’s roles.’ She joked.

Tom chuckled, intertwining their fingers and pulling her forward so she was against the couch behind him, turning his head slightly and kissing her. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too you soppy man.’ She kissed him. ‘I have dinner on and the boys are walked and are currently drying in the kitchen and when you are done here, we are going to have a lovely evening and how the ever loving fuck are you so handsome?’

‘I...that went off a little at the end.’ Tom chuckled, noting at how she was eyeing him. ‘How do you mean?’

Taking her arms back, she gently leant one across his upper chest, the other going to toy with his longer hair. ‘You get more handsome every time I look at you.’

‘I think you need to speak to your optician.’ Tom joked. ‘My hairline is receding, my crows feet are becoming permanent and I have wrinkles starting to etch on my forehead.’

Danielle looked at him for a moment before kissing to the side of his eye, then gently pressing her lips to the side of his forehead. ‘I truly think you to be the most handsome and sexiest man I have ever met.’ She declared as she leant her forehead to where she had just kissed and inhaled, taking in the mixture of his natural scent, his hair gel and cologne, something she never thought she would ever get used to, something she adored. ‘I would never change a single thing about you, Tom.’

Tom raised his arm so his hand was gently on the arm that was across his chest. ‘Elle…’

‘Hmm?’

Tom bit his lip for a moment before thinking to himself. ‘I wish I had confessed my feelings sooner.’

‘Then we wouldn’t have done what we have done and become the people we are, so we don’t think about that. We can only move forward, there is no changing what was and that’s not a bad thing. Look where we are now. We are happy and this is incredible and we are going to continue like this.’ She smiled.

Tom smiled lovingly at her, noticing that there was a stray silver hair peeking out from her other darker locks. He remembered the girl who arrived in Britain, her face showing she had dealt with not one but two parental deaths in a short time, yet she was young, only twenty-five, now, almost seven years later, she was far stronger and more mature, though maturity was something she had in droves, but it showed more now. She was confident, strong and able to stand by herself, she wanted a man in her life, she did not need it and her ability to miss him yet respect his profession meant he felt secure when they were apart. ‘Elle?’

‘Yes?’

He leant up and kissed her again, loving how she toyed with his hair. ‘You are never leaving me, you know that, right?’ He smiled playfully.

‘What can I say, I am my own worst enemy? I have you addicted to me.’

‘Well, you secured your fate by giving good shoulder rubs.’

‘Ah, my downfall.’ She laughed, toying with the hair that was falling onto his forehead.

‘You won’t leave me anyway.’

‘Really? And why is that?’

‘You love my scruff.’

‘I must profess, Mr Hiddleston, I fucking adore it.’

‘Naughty girl using such language.’ he chastised with a smirk.

‘You knew what I was like long before you ever leant in and kissed me.’ She pointed out.

‘I did, that was half of the allure.’

‘For all the high society you are around now, Mr Hiddleston, you went and slummed it with one such as myself.’

‘My darling, Elle. There are many things I am doing with you, but “slumming it” is most definitely not one of them.’ Tom stated. ‘I can assure you, you are the only woman that will ever hold my interest and your background is part of what causes that. A no-nonsense woman from Connemara, on Ireland’s west coast is the woman I want. You are grounded and beautiful and no other could compare to you.’

‘What has you so soppy this evening?’

‘I just am able to sit back and realise how lucky I am to have you.’

‘Yes, you are lucky.’ She smiled, kissing him one last time before having to leave go of him. ‘I better make sure we have a dinner and not burnt pans.’

‘Need help?’

‘I should be fine, you relax there for yourself.’

Tom watched her walk into the kitchen before placing everything he had been working on neatly on the coffee table, as well as putting back on his glasses before getting out of his seat and going into the kitchen, smiling at the genuinely content look on her face. ‘Where am I needed?’

‘I suppose you can cut some veg.’

‘I thought I was not needed.’

‘Well, if you are going to be here anyway, I might as well use you.’ She smirked.

‘Sounds kinky.’ He put his arms around her and pressed his lips to her neck, loving the little noise she made as a result. ‘I mean it, Elle, I love you so fucking much.’

‘I can honestly say, likewise.’ She turned and kissed him. ‘Now, we are cooking, if you want sex, you will wait til later like a good sexy man because we need to eat.’

‘You drive a hard bargain.’ He smiled, going over to the fridge and getting out the vegetables they needed for their meal, the exercised and content dogs watching from their bed as they did so.

When they were sitting down to dinner, Tom kept giving Danielle little glances that told her he wanted to say something to her. ‘Are you going to tell me something or are you just going to keep looking at me for half the evening and think about it?’ She queried with a slight smirk and a raised brow.

‘I have been asked to do something, and I wish to do it.’

‘Okay?’ Danielle had no idea what it was as he already told her about the “Leading Lady Parts” piece.

‘I am going to be doing interviews with women.’

‘Okay.’

‘As part of the TimeUp and MeToo movements.’

‘Assaulted women?’ Tom nodded and Danielle chewed her cheek and pursed her lips.

‘You disapprove?’

‘I...No, and yes. Tom, when I worked as a paramedic, most assault cases were physical, sadly. I have seen so many battered women, far too many, and on occasion, there was the sexually assaulted ones or the ones that were beaten and raped. I mean, I will never forget it, but the sexual assault ones, they...they are often the most harrowing, because they blame themselves, because society blames them, some of the things they say, you feel like curling up in a corner and crying from some of them and I know they need to have people know and listen to them, but the idea of you taking some of that load is not something I am overly happy about. I respect your right to do this and I know it is not for you that you are doing it, but you need to understand, this will be one of the most harrowing things you will ever do. It will be there with the Sudanese crisis you went out to, where people have suffered in an inhuman way and all you can do is say you are sorry they suffered it and hope that you can raise awareness but little else.’

‘I know that.’

‘Then, anytime you need to talk, or need me to leave you alone afterwards, let me know and I will do everything I can to help you.’ She stated.

Tom gave a small smile. ‘You are so respectful.’

‘I will not dictate to you what you should and should not do.’ She shrugged. ‘But you are going to hear some horrible things.’

‘What am I letting myself in for?’ Tom asked, knowing Danielle was well versed in such matters. ‘What can you tell me?’

‘Well, the most recent survey suggests that one in five women has been sexually assaulted, or has reported it in some manner at least, some probably never will tell anyone, so the number is more than likely far higher.’

‘One in...Jesus.’ Tom shook his head. ‘How many women do I know that have…?’

‘Tom, the harsh reality is even women in your most inner circle of friends, your family even, are part of that statistic.’

‘Wait, Emma or Sarah...have they...?’ He felt lightheaded at the thought of one of his sisters being affected in that way.

‘I don’t know, neither has ever said anything to me, but the fact is, no family is untouched by this, Tom. There is no way you don’t have at least one woman in your biological family that is not in some way assaulted.’

‘That is hard to swallow. It’s usually someone they know too, isn’t it?’

Danielle sighed. ‘The hardest ones for me that I came across were the girls that trusted men in their lives and they obliterated their trust. Friends, boyfriends, family members who decided “no” was not acceptable, I…’ She put down her knife and fork and shook her head. ‘Trust is so easily broken and so hard to rebuilt, and the guilt they feel, like they cannot see that even if they feel they “led them on” it does not condone the actions of their assailants.’ Danielle started to fidget slightly and no longer look him in the eye. ‘I am going to go to the bathroom.’

Tom took a moment to assess what she told him and how it affected her to even talk about it, her shocking figure of one in five making him think of the women he cared about and realising that one or more of them had been affected.

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

20 Seconds of Courage -Part 21

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

words: 1768

Warnings: NSFW

Series Master List

Complete Master List

This is the final chapter of this series! Thank you so incredibly much if you've read this far! All your support means the world to me. <3

“Wake up beautiful.” Beckett whispered in Oriana’s ear, kissing behind it lightly. We have plans, remember?”

Oriana stirred. “Change of plans. We’re staying in bed all day.”

Beckett laughed lightly. “You’re the one who wanted to go scuba diving, not me. I’m only doing it for you. You’ve been hyping me up about it for months, so we’re going.”

“But it’s so early.” Oriana complained.

“It’s 9am. That’s not early by anyone’s standards, except maybe a teenager. Come on, we’re going. I’m dying to see you in all that gear.”

Oriana whacked him with a pillow. “Fine, fine, I’m getting up.”

Beckett grinned as Oriana slowly made her way out of the fluffy bed, her eyes immediately landing on their large ocean view window. “I’m never going to get tired of this place, Beck. I don’t know how you’re going to get me to leave in a few days.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, not saying a word. They were in a large villa on the Hawaii Big Island. They debated on which island to visit, and eventually settled on this one as it was the most diverse with twelve different climates. It’s a big island, so there was always something to see. They could go to a city, or into a jungle, even see an active volcano still spilling lava into the ocean. It was the most beautiful and serene place Beckett had ever visited, and here he was with the woman of his dreams. “Maybe we don’t have to leave. It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

It had been a crazy eight months for them. Both Michael and Jason were dead, and all of their schemes came out while the police sorted through their lives. There were other victims discovered, and cold cases closed. Beckett’s parents had reached out to him, but he only spoke to them briefly.

“They shut me out when I needed them, and I’ve accepted that. Katrina’s murder was solved. My ties with them are gone now.” He’d told Oriana. “I haven’t thought of them as my family in years.”

Oriana tried to reason with him, but he stood firm on the subject. Her adoptive parents were in shock over everything she’d been through, but they adored Beckett and that was enough for him.

As she stretched, she could feel Beckett’s eyes raking over her naked form. She smirked. “Don’t get any ideas, mister, we’re going scuba diving.”

“Maybe we have a few minutes to spare.” He murmured, quickly moving towards her and embracing her from behind. He already had his bathing suit on, but she was completely bare still. He kissed her shoulder, along her neck, and nibbled on her ear, cupping a breast with one hand while his other slid down her stomach, finding her sweet spot.

“Ohhhh.” She bucked into his touch, instantly becoming soaked. “Damn it, Beckett.”

“What” He whispered hoarsely. “It is wrong that I want to touch you? How can I resist your perfect body?”

She moaned, turning her head and capturing his lips in a searing kiss as he moved his fingers faster. “I don’t want you to resist.” She leaned her head back and rested it on his shoulder as he tweaked her nipple into a taught bud and sank two fingers inside of her tight hole, thrusting them in and out. Her breathing became more ragged and within minutes she was crying out as she came, not leaving his arms as she came down from her high. Beckett lightly slapped her ass.

“Now we’re really going to be late.”

“Your fault.” She mumbled as she finally tore herself away from him to use the bathroom and change into her swimsuit.

“Can’t help it!” He called after her with a smirk.

Soon enough they arrived at the beach where they took an hour-long fast course in scuba diving protocol and safety before being fitted with their oxygen tanks and masks. They both became certified before their trip, and Oriana was buzzing in excitement while Beckett looked out across the water nervously. Oriana slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

“Beck, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Really, it’s okay.”

“Ori, I said I’m never leaving you again, and that definitely includes times you decide to go scuba diving in a huge ocean where you could easily disappear. If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re crazy.”

“Oh really.” She laughed. “Well then. Our instructor is heading out, we should follow.”

Together they waded out into the crystal blue waters, along with two other couples and their guide. Sinking beneath the surface, Beckett had expected to feel overwhelmed and possibly a bit frightened, since the lake they became certified in was nothing compared to this, but instead he felt…free. Watching Oriana swim around admiring the colorful fish, he actually felt pretty great. The swimsuit he had on was designed specifically for him, with a secure pocket, which he patted about the millionth time.

Looking at another school of brightly colored fish, Oriana glanced over at Beckett, blushing that he was watching her. She loved him watching her. He’s been her rock, and she’s been his throughout their whole ordeal, and through each other they are healing. She still woke with nightmares often while they were home, and was seeing a psychologist for the PTSD she’s been experiencing since the day she was slipped a date rape drug. She also saw too many things the night she was kidnapped, and it affected her more than she’d anticipated. But Beckett supported her; made sure she was comfortable, and never pressed her to talk about it. For months he would ask her every day if she wanted to talk about it. Some days she would. Other days she wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t ask again until the following day. For awhile she thought it extremely annoying. In retrospect, it melted her that he cared so much. He had suffered so much loss himself, and she would do anything to make sure he never loses her.

She reaches out her hand and he swims over to join her. Even through his mask, she could feel the heat of his gaze. They never lose sight of their guide and the other couples while underwater. They could all venture on their own, and they did to an extent. Beckett led her a short distance to a pod of dolphins, feeling elated at the happiness written all over her. There were so many things hidden beneath the surface, just like him, just like her. She briefly let go of his hand to get a better look, and when she turned back he was holding something tightly between his fingers. She blinked. Surely that can’t be what it looks like. Remembering her training, she kept her breathing even, despite her heartrate exploding. She swam so she was directly in front of him, staring down at the large diamond ring he was holding before looking into his eyes and seeing the vulnerable question he was asking without using words. That might even be the reason she loves him most. He communicates so many different ways, through his actions, his gestures, his eyes, and his words. And she can decipher every single one.

A little shaky, she nodded and held out her left hand, letting him slip the ring on her finger, being extremely careful not to drop it. He already had it insured, just in case. For the briefest of moments, they both removed their mouth regulators and pressed their lips together in a kiss, before returning their regulators and breathing again. It was absolutely perfect.

Later that night, they were lying on a blanket on a sandy beach, gazing up at the stars above them. They’d celebrated their engagement all day long, but there was something else he wanted to ask her. He turned his head to look at her.

“Oriana?”

She turned to meet his eyes. “Yes?”

Beckett propped himself up on one arm. “I was thinking…you like it here, right?”

Oriana chuckled. “Tell me that’s a joke. I don’t like it, Beck, I freaking adore it. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed by the constant smile on my face.”

“Would you want to live here? Permanently?” He blurted out.

Her eyes widened and she sat up quickly. “What?”

“Look around, Ori. It’s paradise. The weather is perfect, and there’s so much to do. Everything is more laid back here. It’s sunny all the time in this area. But if you want snow, we can go to that too. If you want rain, there’s plenty there too. There’s active volcanos, there’s hiking trails, there’s scuba diving, snorkeling, sailing, surfing…we can do it all.”

Oriana had no idea what to say. “Well…”

“And it’s not like either one of us is working right now.”

“But I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of architectural jobs around here, Beck. What would we do?”

“Besides make love all day?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Besides making love all day.”

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Anything we want.” He murmured, leaning in and kissing her softly. “I know this has just been a vacation, Oriana, and people are usually happy while on vacation, but…you’ve brightened so much while we’ve been here. You haven’t had any nightmares in weeks. I love seeing you happy and smiling every day and not constantly looking over your shoulder. Just think about it. That’s all I ask.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re serious about this.”

“I am.”

Oriana swallowed hard, thinking back on their time together before speaking again. “Remember when we first met? And you tried to get me to stay overnight but I didn’t?”

“Of course.”

She nodded. “You said to me, ‘Twenty seconds got you here. I bet twenty seconds can get you to stay.’”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’ll stay.” She cut him off, not letting him finish his sentence. “Let’s do it. People dream of having this life. So let’s live it.”

He gasped quietly. He was not expecting her to remember all that. “Are you sure?”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re changing your mind already.” She groaned.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “Definitely not.”

Their lips met in a passionate and fiery kiss, a silent promise being made between them. This was their new home. This was their new life, and they’re going to live it the way they want to. They both deserve happiness, and together, happiness is what they’ll have.

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[kpop-fanatic-lover16]

Vowed ~Kim Seungmin~

Warnings: past rape, violence

Pairing: Skz Seungmin x reader

Genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The lights shined from all the buildings in the city from where you sat, looking out your bedroom window. It was silent within the room, without any lights on, allowing the city lights to be more visible. One might think you were alone, but that was just the opposite.

With your bottom half under the comforter, and your upper half leaning up against the headboard, it gave the perfect warmth and security for the sleeping child at your side. She belonged to you, and at the beginning of the night, a bad dream had scared her. Not minding her presence, you let her crawl in bed with you and sleep peacefully without fear. Of course, you didn’t occupy this bed alone regularly, but your soulmate was off on a work mission.

Mission? Yes, your soulmate is a part of the Mafia that petrified the gigantic city. He actually had been gone for a few days, leaving you to sleep alone at night, concerned for his safety. There is one thing that might need mentioning; your soulmate –your husband– was the Mafia boss. No not just a boss, the boss. How in the world did you end up with a Mafia boss?

It all started back when you were sixteen at a high school celebration party that one of your best friends was hosting. At the time you were dating one of the high academic kids in school, who ended up portraying a completely different person than who he truly turned out to be. Kim Seungmin also attended the school but had a more respected reputation than your boyfriend at the time. To your surprise, he also could see right through the charming act and straight to the creep he was.

That night at the party, you were falsely accused of staring and talking with other guys, so your boyfriend raped you to make a point. After the incident, Seungmin found you in a bathroom, half-naked and in tears. He immediately took you back to his house and gave you a place to sleep, knowing that your parents weren’t home, due to the constant watch over all the students and their families from his parents. He also discovered that you were injured, so he kept you for a few days in hopes of keeping you away from your boyfriend. In all your life, you would have never guessed that you would be helped by the highly respected rich kid of your high school. Eventually, you spent more time with him which lead to the discovery of your pregnancy and his devotion to take care of you and the baby. The first thought that came to your head was why? It didn’t take long until you found out about the tattoos. The ones that Soulmates share.

At the start of your teen years, a tattoo appears on your body so that you can find your soulmate easily. When you turned thirteen, a bright orange flower appeared at the bottom of your spine, with black outlines of hundreds of vines lining and extending from the flower. The day you found out Seungmin was your soulmate was an incredible day. It was the first time he pulled off his shirt to jump in the water at the local pool. A black outlined colorless flower, that was the same one you had, was tattooed at the bottom his neck with dark and bright green vines running around the same spots yours were in, just upside down.

Three years after your little girl was born, your ex-boyfriend wanted to see her. This is when you got scared and asked your now new boyfriend, Seungmin, –who actually cared about the child– to accompany you. He said yes without hesitation, worried for your safety. When he arrived at your house, things seemed fine. Your ex got to hold his child, and even though Seungmin wanted to rip the little girl out of his arms and protect her, he didn’t. It’s what happened the next day that had you startled.

The sound of the doorbell ringing at the front door, scared you nearly half to death as you sat with Seungmin in the dining room. Somewhere deep inside you, there was something telling you to be braver, but after all, he had done there was nothing but fear. Seungmin saw this and knew this was going to be hard to face. Instead of making you answer the door, Seungmin called out for the person to let themselves into the house. Before your ex could see you, Seungmin told you to go get the little girl from your room. Takoma –your ex– walked into the kitchen expecting to just see you, but was greeted by none other than Seungmin himself.

“Helicoptering much?” Takoma sneered at Seungmin’s presence. Every time Takoma met with you for some random reason he always saw your new boyfriend with you. It was starting to get on his nerves.

Seungmin crosses his arms and lifted his head a little higher, getting protective. “Requesting my presence isn’t helicoptering.”

Seungmin gestured out his hand for Takoma to follow him to the living room where he could wait. He did so obediently and waited for you to bring his child to see him. Takoma had a hard time with Seungmin being around his child 24/7 rather than him, but he would rather die than be with you again. To be honest, Takoma didn’t care much about being a father figure, he just didn’t want Seungmin to take that role.

“Where are we going Mommy?” a small voice mumbled from the hall to the bedrooms. Seungmin respectively kept his distance and let the father and his daughter see each other. Every bone, nerve, and cell in Seungmin’s body told him to attack, but he didn’t move an inch.

“You can’t hold her because she doesn’t know you,” you mumbled, walking up close enough for Takoma to see the small child’s face. It was difficult though because the face he wanted to see so bad was buried in your neck from shyness. You attempted many times to get her to look at Takoma, but she refused.

“No, Mommy.” she whimpered, finally after a few more tries. This is when Seungmin stepped up and asked if he could take her from you. Not to rub it into Takoma’s face, but to get Haesung to look at him. Stepping back, you watched Seungmin hold her close to his chest.

“Haesung,” Seungmin gently spoke, getting her attention. “I want you to meet someone. I need you to be a brave girl and just say hi.” her little head popped up at his command and looked at Takoma who was livid.

“Our deal was that I got to see her, not see your dumbass boyfriend cuddle her!”

Seungmin tightened his jaw and stepped back to give Haesung back to you. Quickly, you told her to go run off and play in her room, which she gladly did. Takoma raised his eyebrows in disbelief at the sudden exit. Out of anger, his head slowly turned in your direction, planning all kinds of abuse toward you. Seungmin stepped into his view and looped his thumbs through his belt loops.

“Step aside,” Takoma growled. “Or I won’t hesitate to beat you too.”

When Seungmin didn’t budge an inch, Takoma raised his fist to punch him in the face. Within a split sec, Seungmin responded quickly by grabbing his fist inside his palm, lifting up the hem of his own shirt, and yanking out the gun at his side to press into Takoma’s torso. Takoma froze in place, glancing down at the gun and then back up at Seungmin.

“And I won’t hesitate to shoot you,” Seungmin responded, pressing the gun further into his stomach. “I have done it plenty of times and nothing would bring me more joy than to kill you off right here in this living room.”

Takoma looked at you briefly to see your hands glued to your mouth in pure shock. Seungmin never struck you as a person who carried a gun around, much less threaten people with it.

“Now,” Seungmin said, breaking the high tension. “You are going to leave this house and family in ten seconds, and learn how to control your emotions, or I will shoot you.”

Takoma walked backward toward the front door after Seungmin released him. Terror and fear were the only emotions in his eyes; as soon as he reached the door, he bolted outside running away. Seungmin pressed the button in his ear and let his gun held hand drop to his side.

“Take care of him.”

Horrified, you stepped back from Seungmin. What was he doing? Where did he get the gun and why did he bring it to your house? Seungmin completely turned around to face you. He knew you were terrified.

“We need to talk.”

A deep sigh settled into your lungs as your fingers laced through Haesung’s soft brown hair. Seungmin moved all three of you to the city where you now lived, safe and sound by the protection of the Mafia.

Dawn was approaching on the horizon and soon the city would be filled with light again. About this time, you decided to leave Haesung in your bed to sleep and go make some morning tea. The large window continued into the living room but stopped where the kitchen was located. Everything in the penthouse had a white aesthetic, giving it life. The smell of chai tea soon filled the kitchen as the sun came up over the horizon. The sunrise was filled with deep orange and pink while hints of black were chased away by the almost orange sun. When the tea was ready you gently took it in your hands and decided to go stand by the window to watch the rest of the sunrise.

However, when you turned around, the person leaning up against the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen scared your soul out of your body (and the tea out of your cup too). “Seungmin!”

“Hello to you too,” he smiled, walking over and pulling you into his chest in a hug. You hugged him back disregarding the tea; it suddenly hit you how much you missed his embrace and warm touch. He pulled back and kissed your lips hungrily, also missing your touch just as much.

“Where did you come from?” you laughed, breaking away to clean up the spilled liquid all over the floor. Seungmin helped you finish off the paper towels before pulling an extra from the supplies cabinet and replacing the old one.

“The front door,” Seungmin joked, before catching the glare you sent him. “I got in just now.”

“Did the mission go okay?” you questioned, following him into the living room to go take a seat on one of the couches. He sighed deeply and crashed on the couch out of exhaustion. Something didn’t seem right because of how he was acting.

When he put his head in his hands, something definitely had gone wrong. “I lost five people on that mission, Y/n.”

Immediately, you became quiet not knowing how to respond to that sentence. Of course, Seungmin blamed himself, but what was done was done and there wasn’t anything he could do to fix the past. Seungmin decided that sitting wasn’t helping his stress, so he got up and walked around the living room. More like paced.

“Did you lose any more resources other than the five?” you asked, trying to better understand his situation so you could help in the best way.

“None.” Seungmin denied, running a hand through his hair. You saw his jaw tighten in massive anger. “Caliber betrayed me at the last moment, which is how I lost five men.”

Caliber had been one of Seungmin’s closest men. He had been an old high school friend and helped keep the mafia steady when Seungmin was taking care of specific things. A part of you was just as angry at Caliber for doing that to Seungmin, but the other half knew it was coming due to his suspicious behavior these past few months.

“Wh—” you began to ask another question when Haesung appeared from your bedroom. Seungmin looked up at your pause and over to where you were looking.

Haesung’s face lit up so brightly that the sun could’ve been blinded. “Daddy!!”

Seungmin smiled widely and bent down to pick her up in his arms as she ran into them. They squeezed each other tightly without a word. Haesung was the reason you weren’t allowed to train or go on missions. The deal was that you stayed home and taught her an education while Seungmin took care of the dangerous stuff.

“Daddy! Mommy bought a new dress yesterday!” Haesung explained with a rush, blowing the secret that she had promised to keep. Your left hand came up to rest gently on you left temple right before you looked up to see Seungmin looking at you with raised eyebrows. Now he was curious.

“Oh?”

“It’s very pretty! It has–”

“Haesung!” you reprimanded softly. “Why don’t we let Daddy find out what it looks like later?”

“Yes, Mommy,” she smiled, going back to hugging Seungmin around his collar. Seungmin held her proudly, loving every bit of snuggles he got after a few days of being gone.

Every once in a while, Seungmin’s mind would drift off into imagination land, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been the father figure in Haesung’s life and Takoma was instead. He knew for a fact that she would be beaten just like her mother had been, but Seungmin always fought with himself on giving Haesung a better life than living in the Mafia. There was a higher risk, but was the risk she was living in now lesser than what it would be if she was with Takoma? Eventually, Seungmin would remind himself that he was protecting both of his girls from harm, and it had gone very well for multiple years. What could Takoma offer that he hasn’t already?

“Would you read her a book while I fix breakfast?” you asked Seungmin, getting up from the couch to go back into the kitchen. Now that Haesung was awake, you knew she was going to be hungry in the next thirty minutes. Seungmin didn’t need to be asked and went straight upstairs to her room where her small little library of the book was located.

The breakfast menu was made up of eggs, bacon, and some pancakes. It was too early in the morning for fruit, so that option was left off of the table. The fruit had natural sugar, which led to the craving of more sugar, something that Haesung didn’t need in the morning. Seungmin on the other hand had a different opinion when he came to this logic. It made no sense to him to not have fruit, but to have syrup and whip cream with some chocolate chips. What point were you trying to make?

When you called them down for breakfast, he was shaking his head. Knowing exactly what his argument was going to be, you kept your mouth shut not wanting to discuss the opinion for the hundredth time. Okay, so maybe you didn’t particularly like fruit with breakfast? Deep down you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. That would mean that Seungmin would win the argument and there was no way you were going to let that happen.

“How about we drop her off at your mom’s house and go out tonight?” Seungmin offered when it was time to clean off the table and Haesung was long gone playing in her room with the variety of toys that belonged to her. Seungmin subtly wrapped his arms around your waist while your hands worked on cleaning off one of the plates. The feeling was warm and welcoming, making his offer sound more intriguing.

“How late would we be out on the town?’ you questioned, not wanting to leave Haesung very long. There was always the fear a mother had of leaving their child for too long with someone else.

“Not more than a couple of hours,” Seungmin replied, gently kissing your temple after he spoke. His hold on you grew tighter, the more kisses he left. “That way you can wear your new dress too.”

“Well in that case, okay.” you smiled.

Later that night, you finished off your date night look by looping your second earring into your right ear lobe. The dark midnight dress made you glow in ways you had never seen before, making your confidence level rise just by thinking about your look. Nerves were making your stomach feel sick like they had on your very first date night you had with Seungmin. You knew he would like the dress, but there was still some worry that he may not like the color on you. Just outside of your room, Seungmin was holding Haesung by the big glass window where he was pointing out big buildings within the city and telling her what their purpose was. It was a heartwarming moment to see them together.

“I’m ready,” you spoke, announcing your appearance. They both turned around to look at you, both stunned at the beautiful outcome. Haesung giggled at Seungmin’s dropped jaw and big eyes.

“You look stunning,” Seungmin commented when you walked over to them. Without thinking, he leaned down to kiss your lips. He was stopped when Haesung cried out desperately for him to not kiss Mommy in front of her.

“Let’s go!” she screamed, excited to go see her grandma.

After about a twenty-minute drive, you arrived at your parent's house. The porch was lit up, waiting, and providing light for the three of you as you walked up to the front door. Seungmin raised his fisted hand and slightly knocked on the wood, waiting for a response from inside the house. It didn’t take long before the door opened to reveal your mom. A bright smile lit up her face when Haesung greeted her in the loudest greeting you had ever heard her give.

“You two have fun,” your mom gushed, seeing you both all dressed up for a nice evening out. Goodbyes were giving to Haesung before your mom gave Seungmin a hug and a kiss to your cheek. “Bye!”

Seungmin started up the car and put the gear into drive, heading away from your parent's house. There was no knowledge of what restaurant you were going to, so you decided to patiently wait to be surprised. A hand rested gently on your thigh, directing your attention over to Seungmin who had one hand on the wheel and his eyes on the road ahead of him. His thumb spun circles on your knee cap, enjoying your presence next to his and relishing in the feeling of some freedom.

Moments like these were very rare because Seungmin always had too much work on his hands, and you were busy educating Haesung. The unexpected mission that lasted three days, cut off your first plans to go out, so Seungmin was relieved to finally have a break within the chaos. On your side, the only thing you were relieved about was that Seungmin was safe and that you now had time to spend with him before he had to go back out again and work. Seungmin was your rock and foundation that kept you going for so long; he has always been there for you from the beginning and you couldn’t be any more grateful for that.

The restaurant that Seungmin pulled up to was the undeniably expensive one that charged more for the quality of the food than the amount. In your opinion, it was silly to run your business that way, but there was no complaining that it wasn’t good. Everything at this restaurant was divine and could only be found at this specific location. They had vales and a car washing business that would take care of your vehicle while you enjoyed your dinner; the attached club was near the top of the building, a hotel was next to the restaurant for people visiting out of town and those people only. There was never a time in your life that you thought you would ever be dining at a place like this.

“Hold the mega power wash this time,” Seungmin told the vale as he handed over the keys to the porch. He met you on the other side with his arm held out for you to take. Accepting his arm, you both walked into the restaurant.

A little while later, you were enjoying some red wine while laughing over some of the stupid memories you had in high school. It was your idea to take a trip down memory lane, which ended up being quite a journey. Who knew that your high school days had been so long ago? Time really did pass by when life was nothing but busy. There had been a mix of stories; bad ones, good ones, fond ones, and also hilarious ones. It was refreshing to hear some of Seungmin’s stupid ones so you didn’t look like such an idiot yourself. Like the time when Seungmin’s best friend Jeongin almost had his pants lit on fire by another friend named Han. The outcome ended in Jisung getting hung by his foot at the bottom of a bridge. Let’s just say that nobody ever underestimated Jeongin again.

It had been not more than an hour later when your phone rang. Without looking at the caller ID, you answered, “Hello?”

“Y/n!! Come home quick!!” you heard your mother on the other end gasping for air and talking in hushed tones. Worry spiked your heart as you came out of your relaxed mood, sending Seungmin into the same state.

“Mom, mom what is going on?” you asked frantically, not understanding the situation. Was Haesung hurt?

“It’s Takoma!! He somehow figured out you were dropping off Haesung and he broke into the house trying to grab her! Come quickly I can hear him getting close!”

As soon as his name was spoken, you hung up the phone and grabbed your stuff, getting up from the table. Seungmin was beyond confused but also got up from the table, ready to take action. “It’s Takoma! He’s just broken into the house!”

Seungmin lit up with raging anger and he was immediately ahead of you, rushing to get the car. There was no way Takoma was going to take Haesung from his family. Not on his watch. Surprisingly when you got outside, Seungmin was already getting into the car and starting the engine. When he heard your door close, he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and got the car up to ninety miles an hour in order to get to your parent's house. During the car ride, Seungmin dialed the first person he could think of on the radio and waited for them to answer.

“Hello?”

“Jeongin,” Seungmin’s tone was harsh and firm. “Get loaded into the vans and get over to Y/n’s parent's house. Takoma just broke into the house and is making plans to take Haesung.”

The thought made you wanted to throw up, “Babe please go faster! I can’t lose her!” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks and everything around you was spinning. What if she was gone before you got to her?

The car halted to a screeching stop in front of the house you had just left an hour ago, peacefully. Upon the porch, the door was kicked into the house and all the lights were off. Wasting no time and ignoring Seungmin’s calls for you to stop, you picked up the bottom of your dress and rushed up the steps and into the house. Not even a few steps into the living room, you were grabbed and slammed into the wall. Pain shot through your body as it was hit and beaten vigorously. Briefly, you looked over to the entrance hall to see Seungmin with a gun drawn. It didn’t take long for him two also get attacked; his gun was throw off to the side as he fought hand to hand combat with his attacker.

“Guess who’s afraid now?!” your attacker screamed into your face, throwing another blow to your stomach.

It felt like hours before the sound of shouts and a few gunshots filled your ears. Jeongin appeared in the doorway with a machine gun rifle, holding the end of the gun to his shoulder as he fired at your attacker, killing him instantly. Chan, Felix, Changbin, and Jisung entered after Jeongin, helping Seungmin up off the ground and also coming to your aid. Relief filled you slightly, but you were still worried about Haesung.

“Jeongin! Haesung!” you shouted with all of the energy you had left.

Jeongin immediately left the room with Felix behind him, going through the house to find Haesung, your mom, and Takoma. Quickly and quietly, Jeongin climbed the stairs up to the second floor with Felix behind him while Minho and Hyunjin took matters into their own hands and checked the downstairs area. Felix took a left at the top of the stairs and Jeongin went right, hoping to find your mom and Haesung first. Every door was opened except for the door at the end of the dark hall. With alert senses, Jeongin approached the door and then kicked it down with his foot; he entered the room with his gun aimed well. There on one side of the bed in the room stood Takoma, who was looting drawers and looking for Haesung.

“Move and I will shoot you,” Jeongin warned, coming closer. Takoma watched Jeongin carefully, trying to call a bluff, but failing to call one out because there wasn’t a single joking manner to Jeongin’s warning. Within seconds, Seungmin was in the room next to Jeongin with a gun of his own.

“Where is she?!” Seungmin nearly screamed. Takoma only sneered a smile, wanting to trick an angry Seungmin into confusion. “I will not repeat myself!”

“Where is who?” Takoma mocked, cocking his head slightly to the left. Seungmin gritted his teeth and raised his gun to aim at Takoma.

“Remember my warning from last time?” Seungmin questioned, as he saw Jeongin break off to find Haesung.

Jeongin entered the bathroom and looked in the shower first to see if they were hiding in there. Having no luck, he checked the closet. At first, there was nothing but clothes and shoes that sat at the bottom of the small room. However, when Jeongin took a second glance at the hangers, he noticed that a section of them was leaning a little to the left, indicating that they had been moved. His hand came up and moved the clothes apart to reveal a hidden door. Acting quickly with hope that they would be behind it, he picked the lock and pushed the door inward. The small stone room was pitch black making it hard for Jeongin to see; he turned on his flashlight, revealing Haesung and your mom huddled up in one of the corners. They flinched when Jeongin appeared.

“Woah, it’s okay. I’m on the good side.”

As soon as Haesung saw who Jeongin was, she broke out of your mom’s arms and ran over to Jeongin with tears streaming down her cheeks and heavy sobs racking her body. She knew he would take her to her parents. When Jeongin stepped out of the small escape room, Chan had found him. He passed Jeongin to go help your mom out of the room and downstairs to make sure there were no injuries on her body. Thinking about you and Seungmin, Jeongin held tightly onto Haesung as he went back downstairs to find you. Seungmin wasn’t in the bedroom when he walked back out and neither was Takoma. When Jeongin entered the kitchen area, he saw Seungmin getting a few cuts on his face disinfected. They both locked eyes and that’s when Seungmin jumped out of his seat.

“Haesung!” Seungmin exclaimed. Haesung, who had her face buried in Jeongin’s neck lifted her head and looked around desperately for Seungmin, recognizing his voice. Seungmin took her out of Jeongin’s arms and let her cling to him tightly as she began sobbing again. “Shhh, you’re okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“We’ll talk about cleaning up this mess back at headquarters,” Seungmin spoke to Jeongin before leaving with Haesung.

When you woke up the next morning, your head was throbbing and everything was so bright. In fact, your entire body was aching from pain. Slowly, your eyes opened and adjusted to the bright light and everything around you. Relief filled your body when you looked down to see Haesung right next to you; ignoring the pain you were in, you wrapped your arms around her frame and hugged her tightly to your side, never ever letting her leave your side again. From a quick glance over, it looked like she hadn’t been injured; the only question was where Seungmin ended up? You had so many questions that it was making your head spin. They only thing you could remember was seeing Jeongin leave the room with Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix behind him to go find Haesung.

Somewhere, far out of the city in a wide and open warehouse, stood Seungmin. The sound of gasoline being poured filled his ears as he watched the three bodies in front of him. Everything in his body told him to shoot the man with the smirk across his face, but he knew a gunshot would be too gracious. He folded his arms and watched Jeongin drag a gasoline line to the edge of his feet. Takoma never let his stare leave Seungmin as he waited for what was to come.

“You know,” Takoma spoke, lifting his head slightly to try to seem brave. “For a rich boy, you sure do a lot of crime. It’s almost like you have the eyes on the back of your head.”

“Sore tongues get cut off,” Jeongin snapped, opening one of his knives as a warning.

“And childish threats get ignored.” Takoma spits back. Seungmin pulled out a box of matches and shook the box to get Takoma’s attention.

The match struck against the side of the box, igniting a small but deadly flame. Takoma watched as Seungmin tucked the box back in his pocket. Seungmin smiled and squatted down to the gasoline line, “And Mafia bosses like me kill off annoying pests like you.”

With those last words, the match was dropped onto the gasoline. Fire zipped across the floor and engulfed the two dead bodies and one live body; ear-bleeding screams filled the warehouse as Seungmin took the box of matches and propelled them into the flames with a roaring cry of his own. Anger was pulsing through his body as he watched Takoma burn alive. Nothing could justify his anger, but this would have to do. Without another word, Seungmin turned on his heels and walked out of the warehouse.

He arrived back at the penthouse to find you curled up with Haesung in your arms, sound asleep. Every ounce of his anger disappeared and the greatest relief he had ever felt rushed over him. Tears fell down his face as he walked over and climbed onto the bed, hugging you both from the other side of Haesung. No matter how tough he looked and acted, on the inside, he was absolutely terrified to lose his girls. Now that he knew it was possible, he was never going to let anyone touch either of his girls ever again. If they did, they would suffer the brutal anger of Seungmin himself.

“Over my dead body,” Seungmin vowed, keeping his promise to protect the both of you with his life.