#request a drawing. suggest a situation to put them in. even just scream their name into my inbox and ill tell you about them. go wild

[cellophaine]

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

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"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

[weelittleweasley]

love affair (g.w.)

prompt: a relationship with george weasley was all you wanted. but it seemed as though the two of you had two different ideas of what a relationship meant.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader, fred weasley x fem!platonic reader

warnings: cheating relationships, physical violence, tiny blood warning (literally one sentence), lots of angst, language

word count: 7.5k

author note: this is an amalgamation of me getting out of a very strange relationship six months ago, driver’s license by olivia rodrigo, and two ghosts by harry styles, so take that as you will. this made me sad to write. im so sorry. i also wrote this half tired so if it doesn't make sense, IM SO SORRY LMAO

Knees curled up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs, forcing your body into a coddled position as you sat upon the window sill. Forehead pressed to the glass, the coolness of it made your warm forehead ease with the sensation, condensation fogging up the window pane as your eyes stared mindlessly out of the window. Small mouth sounds fell from your parted lips as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. In the fog on the pane, you dragged your finger across the condensation, drawing little figurines as you attempted to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts that flooded with panic at the news you had received moments ago.

Your pointer finger drew a small heart into the glass before you ripped it away. The sound of a deep tenor rumble resonated outside as small water droplets began pitter-pattering down onto the window. The rain was soothing in contrast to your current state, washing over the lush landscape of the Scottish countryside that Hogwarts castle stood proudly on. 

The rain renewed and refreshed the early autumnal landscape. Water struck upon delicate flowers and reached up to the pale gray sky, accepting the water gratefully. Like a stream in a forest, water rushed down the sides of the Whomping Willow as it twisted and shook off the rain as it poured down. The lush green grass absorbed the water, causing mud puddles to form in pockets across the ground. A smile creeped onto your face as you bit your bottom lip, thinking about how George would insist the next morning that you two go romp around in the mud, behaving like children. George loved mornings after the rain, the way the air was crisp, the smell of fresh dew, the soft ground beneath his yellow rain boots. 

But with the thought of George, your anxious thoughts swirled in your mind like a mixing bowl. You took a deep breath in and repeated to yourself that you would not like to jump to conclusions. This could have been a misunderstanding and Patricia Stimpson had just conveyed the message incorrectly. But the churning in your gut suggested otherwise.

The rain came down relentlessly now, thunder rumbling like a snare drum as darts of lightning flashed far away. The storm was far away, thankfully, which put your mind at ease. 

As a rumble of thunder rippled through, gentle knocks sounded at your door. Rather than getting up and greeting the expected visitor at the door, you lifted your wand beside you and with a gentle flick, the door creaked open just enough for him to push it open all the way.

Entering the room, George closes the door behind him. Without even saying a word, he knows you aren’t yourself. Something was troubling you and it was palpable. The way you curled up watching the rain trickle down the window as you followed it lazily with your finger. George sighs and walks towards you. “Awfully quiet today, aren’t we?” he speaks simply as he takes a seat across from you on the window sill, him sitting criss cross. 

You peel your eyes away from the window and give him a gentle smile as your mind screams to tell him to leave the room, you need space. But when you look at him, your heart swells with all the love you can conjure in your body. He was your George. How could he have done something so unthinkable, but your heart still leaped at the sight of him? You pushed the thought away; nothing was confirmed yet. “Hi, Georgie,” you speak quietly. He scoots closer to you, smile on his lips as he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your forehead. “There’s just a lot on my mind today.”

George peels your arms from around your legs and pulls on them gently, making you wrap your legs around his waist as you huff, giving into his touch. Now, you were wrapped around him like a koala would be, his hands resting on your hips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “Would you like to share with the class?” he jokes as you give him a look that tells him you were serious. He clears his throat. “Sorry, darling,” he smiles. “What’s bothering you? You can tell me...I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially if it is something I can prevent.”

How ironic. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you inhale a shaky breath. “I received some news from Patricia Stimpson this morning,” you start as you gently start to peel yourself off of George. It didn’t feel right to talk about something like this while being complete entangled in each other. George gives you a concerned look, a little confused as to why you would be talking to Patricia Stimpson. “She saw something that you did that is honestly quite disturbing.”

Patricia came up to you this morning after you had finished breakfast in the Great Hall with George as you parted ways for the day, him to the library and you to you the courtyard. She had a look of urgency in her eyes as she tapped your shoulder and requested to speak somewhere privately. The two of you sat on a bench in the courtyard as she gave you a sad smile and revealed information that you never thought you would receive. 

Your heart had stopped beating at the mention of the combination of names strung together in that sentence. It felt like your worst nightmare had grown legs and had walked into your life. The news slapped you in the face as you just stared at her when she told you, looking into her eyes that looked at you so sad for you. “You mean to tell me,” you breathily laugh, not wanting to even think that this situation was a possibility, “that you saw George and...Angelina...”

She nodded her head, sadly with a look of guilt on her face. She hated that she had to be the barer of bad news, especially since you two weren’t that close. But she would hate to see another girl struggle to breathe as rumors flooded in when she knew she could have helped prevent the situation. Patricia gulped and spoke, “Snogging, yeah.” The thought makes bile rise in your throat as you swallow hard and close your eyes. “It happened a few days ago. They were in the library in the back. I was trying to return a book and I stumbled upon them. The two of them both froze and Angelina then yelled at me to leave and I did, I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do,” she tries to reason. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

You shook your head and placed a reassuring hand on Patricia’s. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t nothing wrong, darling,” you give her a weak smile. “There was nothing you could after seeing that except tell me. Thank you for telling me,” you speak as you inhale a deep breath, trying to understand how something like this could have happened.

George went to the library often, but he was usually accompanied by Fred or Lee to talk about the joke shoppe or sorts. He would have meetings every four days. If he had slipped away to do something with Angelina, Fred or Lee would have known. But what really stung was the fact that it was Angelina. Your first friend at Hogwarts. She introduced you to George. She helped set you two up. And now she was the one tearing you apart. 

Patricia starts rambling, “I should have told you when I saw it, but I was scared that I had the wrong twin. That it was Fred and not George, but I could have sworn it was George. It had to have been.”

You speak, “Stop justifying things, Patricia. It’s okay. I’ll, um, I’ll have a chat with George about this I guess. Thank you, again, Patricia. I’ll...see you around.”

When you recounted the events to George, he just sat there and looked at you in disbelief. The way he looked at you with so much pain in his eyes made you feel guilty for accusing him of such a thing. You gulped down a dry swallow and told yourself you couldn’t cry, but that didn’t halt the tears from welling up in your eyes as you inhaled a shaky breath. George still just stared at you in shock. “Please, Georgie,” you beg, just barely above a whisper, knowing if you speak any louder, you’ll crumble. “Tell me it’s not true.”

Your bottom lip trembles and threatens to spill out a sob, but it’s stifled when George pulls you into his chest as you cry into his jumper, taking it in your hands in fistfuls. You let cries erupt throughout your body as George rubs your back soothingly, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t cry, angel,” he coos as you sob into his chest, praying to whoever was listening that this wasn’t happening. “Shhhh,” he hushes you, gently prying you off of his chest so he could look into your eyes.

Looking up at him teary eyed, George cradles your face in hands, thumbs wiping away your tears as you tremble like a child after a sick nightmare. He pressed a kiss to one cheekbone and then the other, where tears fell before he pressed his forehead up against yours. “Never in my life,” he speaks, “would I do that to the girl I love.” The fear evaporates from your body as your shoulders relax and you let out a shaky breath. “I know Patricia claims it was me, but it was absolutely Fred. He’s had his eye on Angelina for a few weeks now. Nice to know that my own twin brother doesn’t tell me when he snogged a girl,” he teases as you giggle lightly. “(Y/N)...” he speaks, his voice trailing off, almost as if it were a warning. “I love you.”

His declaration of love felt more like a statement when he said it. As if you should have known. It was firm and pressing. You shook your head as you smiled lightly, sniffling. It was dumb of you to question George’s loyalties in the first place. He loved you fiercely. “I love you, Georgie.”

And for the first time ever in this relationship, the words you exchanged felt out of place. Misused. But you knew the words still rang true for the both of you after three years of dating. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t have your lips pressed against his right now in a gentle kiss, trying to mend what had almost been broken.

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A few days had passed since the rain and you found yourself happily walking down the hallway, hand in hand with George. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, making you laugh and slap his chest as he joined you in laughter. George squeezed your petite hand in his larger one before he spoke, “Freddie and I have got a team meeting in the library. We’ve got potential investors for the joke shoppe.”

Your eyes widen as you excitedly push his shoulder. “Investors? Geez, Georgie, why didn’t you tell me?!” you exclaim as he chuckles. “I’m so proud of you,” you beam, gently stroking his cheek before you place a gentle kiss to his lips. “Go on then, go do more exciting things,” you push him in the direction of the library.

George sends you a wink, “I’ll catch you after, alright?” He walks backwards down the hall. “In your room?” he asks as you smile and nod. “Brilliant.”

And with that, he’s gone as you shake your head and continue walking down the hallway. As you walk, you think about how that night between you and George had brought you closer. He wanted to be around you more, he gave you more compliments, he paid close attention to how you were feeling. It was like he was becoming a more attentive boyfriend. A new George, one that you could get used to. 

You lazily walked through the halls of Hogwarts, chatting with people you knew as you passed. Now, you found yourself giggling as you stumbled upon Ron, linking arms as dancing down the hallway. You erupted in a fit of giggles as Ron spun you around and he chuckled. The two of you engaged in light chatter before he offered you a snack from his satchel, a bright red apple. “What is it with your family and always eating? I don’t get it,” you tease him.

Ron shrugs, “Always be prepared?”

You roll your eyes as you continue to walk, talk, and eat as you turn the corner and you furrow your brows. There was Fred leaning up against the wall, chatting to Lee about something before Lee threw his head back in laughter. That was odd. Quite a short meeting Fred and George had. “Oi!” you call out. “Freddie!” You drag Ron down the hallway to meet his brother and Lee as Ron throws a lazy arm around your shoulder, towering over you.

Fred turns his eyes and when his eyes land on you a genuine, happy smile appears on his face. “Oi, is my younger git brother annoying you?” he teases as Ron sarcastically laughs before punching Fred in the arm as Fred laughs melodiously.

“Piss off, Fred. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he sneers.

You turn to Fred again, “I thought you and Georgie had a meeting about the joke shoppe. I was just with him like twenty minutes ago and he said he had to run.” You were genuinely curious and also confused. You thought an investor meeting would take more time than just a mere twenty minutes if it was a serious offer. 

Fred shakes his head and tucks his hands into his pockets. “No,” he speaks, brows furrowed, confused as to why his brother would relay false information to you like this. “We have a meeting about the shoppe every other week. Our next meeting isn’t for another week.” Lee looks at you, puzzled, looking back and forth between you and Fred. There was something wrong. 

Your heart sinks and your mouth goes dry. Ron watches your face drop from an excited smile to the color of parchment. He places a cautious hand on your shoulder. Before he can ask you how you’re feeling, you speak up, “Freddie,” you gulp. “This is going to sound like a weird question, but I need you to be brutally honest with me.” Fred looks at Lee completely puzzled before looking at you. “About a week ago, did Patricia Stimpson walk in on you snogging Angelina in the library?”

Lee cackles, “He wishes! Angelina Johnson wouldn’t go near our poor Fred with a ten foot pole!” Lee claps Fred’s shoulder as Fred shoots him a glare, making Lee pipe down immediately. Now was not the time to joke around. And that really meant something when it came to Fred Weasley.

Your heart sinks further and your chest starts to rise and fall with anxiety. The big red apple that was once in your hand fell to the floor and rolled away. Something was gravely wrong. Ron peels his arm off of you, knowing that you need space as you anxiously look between Fred and Ron and Lee, trying to figure out where George could be then. If he wasn’t with Fred or Lee or you, then that meant he was alone. Or...

Fred looks at you and takes a step closer to you. “(Y/N),” he speaks, approaching you with caution like you were ticking time bomb. “Look at me,” he speaks, placing both of his hands on your arms as you look upwards at him, fear in your eyes. “Where did my brother tell you he was?”

Breathing heavily, you open your mouth and no sound comes out at first, just a squeak. Fred’s eyes soften, concerned for you and moment away from kicking his brother’s teeth in. His eyes coax you into trusting him with the information you have. Finally, you manage, “In the library, with you, talking about investments for the shoppe.”

Without another word, Fred takes your hand in his and speaks directly to Lee. “If George doesn’t come back to the room tonight, don’t go looking for him,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Ron, stay here. We don’t need more attention to the scene we’re about to cause. Or should I say, I’m about to cause.” 

Before anyone can object, Fred and you are now walking, more marching, down the halls of the castle to the library to hunt out George. Panic and fear are pumping through your veins as Fred radiates pure fury. Fred and you were always very close, even more so after you and George had started dating. In Fred’s eyes, you were like another sister to him. He felt the overwhelming need to protect in a way that was different how George protected you. Fred knew the inner workings of your mind like the back of your hand. You were the first person he came to when he had a problem and vise versa. Fred was your friend and a damn good one at that. He hated seeing you upset, especially if he knew it was the doing of his own twin. 

“Freddie,” you breathe out. “Patricia came to me days ago and told me that she saw them, but I didn’t believe it. He had told me that it was you and that you had a thing for Angelina for a while and I believed it because I have always trusted George. But now I-”

Halting dead in his tracks before you walk into the library, Fred grabs your shoulders and spins you to face him. “Listen to me, (Y/N),” he commands your attention. “I love my brother. He’s my other half. But something he can be that the guy who is down right dick. And if he did, or is doing, what we’re thinking, then he’s even worse than I had ever imagined. And that is on him.” Fred’s words bring you peace, but also a wave of nerves. Could George ever be unfaithful? Did the relationship have that many cracks that he allowed himself to slip through one? Fred’s brown eyes that looked so like George’s stared into yours as he gave you a smile. “You’re the best girl I know and George is a fucking idiot if he’s letting you go. Regardless of what happens in there, I am your best friend first and foremost. I’m here for you no matter what he does.”

You nod your head and sigh before pulling Fred into the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. With all your might, you hold him close as he sighs and hugs you back, knowing the outcome of this situation before it had even unfolded. Fred thought to himself how could his brother be so selfish, so childish, so moronic to do what he had done. There was no going back now. You can feel the hot tears stinging the back of your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. You were still clinging onto the last bit of hope before you entered the library. “Thank you, Freddie.” 

His arms gave you one last squeeze before taking your hand in his. “Are you ready?” he asks, eyes genuinely searching yours for your answer. Fred was ready to go in there without you to confront his asshole twin and your once best friend, yelling and screaming. Rage was pumping through his veins, but he tried his best to conceal it in front of you. Fred didn’t want you to see him like this. 

With a weak nod, you inhale a shaky breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk into the library and you feel your heart drop into your feet when you step in. You didn’t like the way the library felt in this moment. It was cold and hot at the same time and you felt stifled. But that didn’t stop you from chaotically walking to the back of the stacks to find your boyfriend. 

You peer down aisles trying to find that familiar tuff of red hair, but all you find are diligent students reading, some joking around with each other, others peering through the stacks to find books. “Where the bloody hell...” you whisper to yourself, growing frustrated that you couldn’t find George. Your nervous energy was now being channeled into anger as you balled your first beside you.

Before you can flip around and ask Fred where he thought his brother could be, you hear a familiar low voice and girlish giggle from behind you. You look at Fred, your eyes wide and stomach churning. Fred opens his mouth to say something, but you are already walking to the back of the library to find exactly what you expected.

The red haired boy your heart belonged to was now pressed flushed against your once best friend, lips connected to each others as her fingers played with the hair that stuck up on the back of his neck. George’s hands were placed on her hips before running down her sides to squeeze her bottom cheekily as she giggled. You inhaled a sharp gasp at the sight, wanting to vomit at the sight of George and Angelina pressed up against each other like this. Your mouth hangs open as the detach themselves from their embrace, faces falling from smiles to sheer horror. 

“Fucking hell,” you breathe out, the tears that threatened to fall outside now flowing down your cheeks freely. You feel Fred’s presence behind you as George and Angelina’s eyes dart between you and Fred. Angelina stutters for a moment as George’s hands fly off of her body and into his pockets. “So is Angelina your potential investor?” you ask, bottom lip trembling in horror as Fred steps right behind you, placing his hand on yours giving it a squeeze, letting you know that he is right there with you. 

George steps away from Angelina and Angelina fumbles with her words, “(Y/N)-”

You scoff, “Oh, shut up, Angelina. You have no excuse. You were supposed to be my best mate, but instead you decided that you’d rather fool around with my boyfriend behind my back, eh? Some fucking friend you are.” 

Angelina’s face contorts with sadness and guilt as she looks down at her feet, playing with her fingers. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she tries to defend herself. 

With pure fury rushing through your veins, you laugh. “Well, I’d bloody hope you didn’t plan on it!” you exclaim. “I always knew you to be competitive, but not like this. This is low. Even for you,” you shake your head before looking at George who has guilt slapped all over his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stick up your hand. “Don’t even say anything to me. Don’t you dare even look at me. You’re a liar and a cheat and loathsome. I hope you’re happy. Angelina, he’s all yours.”

You turn away and let a hand fly up to your mouth to conceal your sob as you run out of the library with Fred draping a protective arm around your shoulder. “Come on, now,” he whispers to you as some people notice your state. “It’s over. They’re both done and that’s it. You can cry, darling, it’s alright.”

Fred whisks you out of the library quickly and the moment you step down the secluded hallway, you collapse into Fred’s arm as he holds you, brushing your hair calmingly. The sobs rake through your body, causing it to tremble hopelessly in his arms as he holds you tight. Seeing you like this filled Fred with rage as he kissed the top of your head as he allowed you to cry into his chest, holding onto him for dear life. You sob and mumble things into his jumper as he nods his head. “I’m here, it’s alright.”

That’s when you hear his voice. “(Y/N), please let me talk,” George pleads, pain evident in his voice, but immeasurable to how you felt in this moment. You don’t dare look at him, burying your face deeper into Fred’s chest as his grip grows iron on you.

“Back off, mate, haven’t you hurt her enough?” Fred defends you as he rubs your back. “What has gotten into, George?”

George’s jaw clenches and his fists bundle up beside him. “Piss off and let me talk to my girlfriend, Fred,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Please, (Y/N),” his voice changes when he addresses you, more gentle and coaxing as you sob harder into Fred’s chest. “I need to tell you my side of the story.” Fred laughs as you peel yourself from him, wiping your eyes, hot with tears. “There’s no explanation needed, dear brother,” Fred sneers at George who with a sarcastic smile presses his tongue to his cheek in sheer annoyance. “She caught you in the act. What are you going to explain? How your tongue accidentally found its way into Angelina’s mouth?”

George takes a step forward, challenging his brother. “Shut the fuck up, would you?” he bellows, anger in his eyes as Fred doesn’t back down, unafraid of George. You watch as the scene unfolds in front of you, still sniffling. “All of a sudden you’re interested in my girlfriend? You trying to scoop her up while she’s vulnerable?” he pushes Fred’s chest.

“Scoop her up?” he pushes back. “Are you mental? And if she hadn’t made it clear already, I’ll do it for you. Ex-girlfriend. She’s your ex-girlfriend,” Fred corrects his brother. “Not to mention, (Y/N) has always been my friend, even before you started dating. I’m not trying to scoop her up, George, we’re friends! I will always protect her! Especially when you fail to do so,” he spits at George. 

That’s what sends George over the edge. With a yell, he sends a gruesome punch to Fred’s jaw who nearly falls over from the blow. “Godric, George, stop!” you yell out at he goes for Fred again, but Fred sends a punch to his twin brother’s nose as George stumbles back, blood trickling down from his nose. 

People start to notice that the twins are now in a full on fight, grabbing and swinging at each other as they yell profanities at the each other. A crowd starts to trickle in, cheering on either side of the boys as you watch in horror.

“Fucking hell, get off of each other!” you scream as you grab Fred’s arm as he holds it up to send another punch to his brother’s nose. “Knock it off, you fucking dickheads!” you throw yourself in front of Fred as George and Fred catch their breaths, chests heaving. “Can we not make this a public affair?” you scream again, gesturing to the small crowd that has formed to witness the Weasley twins having it out at each other. “We can talk about this in private,” you say in a hushed angry tone to George. You turn to Fred and take a look at his face, no blood, but definitely lots of bruises and a split lip. “Episkey,” you wave your wand at his face, sealing his broken lip as well as managing to take away some of the swelling of his eyes. 

Fred hisses as his face stings as it heals. “You don’t need to talk to him, (Y/N). He doesn’t deserve to hear what you have to say,” he sneers at George who takes another challenging step at Fred.

You hold Fred back again and hold a warning finger to George. “Don’t you dare. You’ve already hurt enough people today,” you spit at him who immediately retaliates. You speak to Fred with a soft, calm smile. “I’ll be okay. I can handle him, Freddie,” you insist as Fred gives you sad smile.

Slowly looking away from Fred, your eyes land on George as your heart breaks at the sight of him. He wiped his bloody nose on his shirt sleeve as he glared at his brother, eyes eventually trailing to you as his glare fades into a guilty look. The brown eyes that you loved so much suddenly made you feel cold and alone as you inhaled a shaky breath. George tries to offer you his hand to walk somewhere more private to discuss things, but you just scoff and walk past him, letting him follow you. The audacity, you thought to yourself.

The two of you walk into an empty classroom as you close the door behind you and leaning against it, arms folded in front of you as you glare at George. You could feel yourself wanting to cry again, but you refused to let him see you cry again. He wasn’t worth your tears. Instead, you let rage course through your body instead of sadness. 

George gulps before speaking. “I never wanted this to happen...” he trails off.

“No, you never wanted to get caught,” you correct him as he lets out a disgruntled sigh. “I never thought you would ever do this to me, George. Nevertheless, do it to me with my best friend,” you shake your head. “I thought that if you didn’t love me anymore, you would at least have the decency to tell me,” you throw your hands up in defeat. George remains dead silent. “But somehow, you thought this was a better option.” He quickly replies, “It just happened, (Y/N)!” You furrow your eyebrows. “We were in the common room one night, studying for an exam and we started talking and then for some reason, one thing lead to another, and we kissed,” he admits as your heart breaks. So they had kissed before the time Patricia caught them in the library. This wasn’t a one time mistake he made. George had repeatedly kissed Angelina. Godric knows what else they did. “It was a huge mistake, (Y/N), and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You mean so much to me,” he tries to rationalize with you, begging at this point.

You just scoff and say, “A huge mistake that you did again and again and again. If I hadn’t caught you in the act, you would have kept seeing her, wouldn’t you?” George just shakes his head and gulps, taking a step forward. “Don’t lie to me, George...not again,” your voice cracks, but you refuse to cry. “Instead of telling me how you really felt, you kept telling me you loved me.”

George takes your hands in his and speaks, “I have always loved you, (Y/N). None of that was ever a lie.” Your eyes search his eyes, searching for a truth. Something to tell you why you should stay with him. But instead, you found nothing. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he truly feels sorry when he understands what he losing. “We’re just not who we used to be, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders, trying to shift the blame on both of you.

Pulling away from his hands, you spit back, “No, you’re not who you used to be.” You shake your head. “In fact, I don’t know who you’ve become. But you’re not the George I fell in love with,” you take a deep breath in as George’s heart breaks. What George did really ripped your heart out of your chest, but this is was ripped it into a thousand pieces. Leaving him. “Goodbye, Georgie.”

George shakes his head, “(Y/N), please don’t.”

But you were already gone.

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

Being without George for the first weeks of the breakup were difficult. You missed his touch, his voice, his eyes, his laugh, his smile; you missed it all. Even though what he did rung your heart out, there was a part of you that missed him more than words could say. 

People took notice immediately about how you didn’t sit next to George during meals in the Great Hall or converse to Angelina in between classes. This all earned you sorry glances in your direction as people found out what happened. It was embarrassing, having everyone know exactly what went down between you and George and Angelina.

You tried to distract yourself with other friends and schoolwork and other hobbies to keep yourself from thinking about George. But somehow, you always thought of him and how he so harshly betrayed you. No matter what you were doing, something had made you think of him. It came down to the point that you had to distance yourself from Fred, your closest friend after Angelina, because just the look of him made you think of George. That fact that your best friend had to be the identical twin of your cheating ex-boyfriend was enough to drive you mad. 

But after a few weeks of healing and distancing yourself from everything that reminded you of George, you finally decided you couldn’t let him prevent you from seeing Fred. Fred was not only George’s brother, but your friend and you were’t going to let that stop you. When you had seen him for the first time since you and George broke up, tears welled in your eyes, you missed him so much. Fred gave you the tightest hug and profusely apologized for his brother’s behavior. Fred was insistent on helping you in every way possible to move on from George; he wanted you to know that no matter what he would be there for you, no matter if it was his twin who had done the damage or not.

Fred along with the help of your other friends helped you get over George and move on. They helped you regain your confidence and have fun and you couldn’t be more grateful. Soon enough, George was the last thing on your mind. His presence in a room no longer made you sad, the mention of his name didn’t make your heart stop, and the sight of him didn’t make you miss him. You were over George Weasley; something you never thought you would be able to say.

Even though you were over George, you didn’t think that you would date someone else after four months after your break up. But funnily enough, you were. The relationship that had blossomed between you and Roger Davies started as something very innocent. You had always been friendly with Roger, but not very close. So when you had initially started studying in the library, you didn’t think it would lead to hanging out in the courtyard, to your first date to Hogsmeade, until your first kiss on the moving staircase. 

Roger was so refreshing. He was gentle and kind and shy, but he was affectionate and loved showing you how much he truly cared for you. He would be in the hallways with his friends and spot you across the way before running over to place a quick kiss on your cheek before running back to his friends. Or he would see you studying in the library alone and then immediately find the chair next to you to keep you company. It was the little things he did that made you feel so loved.

When word got to George that you and Roger started dating, he was didn’t take the news well. Unlike you, after the breakup, George wallowed in his guilt and couldn’t stop thinking about how foolish and careless he was. He cursed himself for letting he and Angelina share that kiss on that late night in the common room. He hated the fact that he let himself come back for more when he had someone like you in his fingertips. Someone who loved him fiercely and would do anything to prove their love. When Fred told him the news about you and Roger, George sat there with sad eyes and dryly gulped. “Why him?” he spoke. He was sad, angry, disappointed, jealous at the fact that Roger had just scooped you up. 

“She found someone who she cares for and who does the same,” Fred tells his twin. “You should be happy she found someone like that after how the relationship ended with you two,” he tells him as George just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I know you miss her, George, but it’s over. You messed up.”

George just looked at his brother with the most pained look on his face. George knowing that he hurt you in a way unimaginable sat with him like a rock in his stomach. “It was the worst thing I ever did, Fred. I fucked up big time and I can’t fix it. I really can’t fix it this time,” he spoke, pools welling up in his eyes as Fred gave his brother a sympathetic gaze. “I really messed up, Fred.”

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

Winter break rolled around and it would be your first holiday with Roger, but the first holiday without the Weasleys. The thought made your stomach churn. The Weasley family took you in as their own the moment they saw you. Molly and Arthur felt like a second set of parents and you were so grateful that you always had a home with them. You sadly smiled at the memories of the Burrow and the holiday season. You had spent the past four Christmases with the Weasleys and each year just got better and better. You had thought your seventh year would be the best yet, but you had to cast that thought away before you grew sadder.

Shaking away the thoughts of the Burrow, you smiled at the thought of spending the holiday with Roger and his family. You were more than nervous to meet his parents and his older brother, but Roger made it abundantly clear that his family was thrilled to meet you. “I’ve talked to my mom about you before and she is so excited to meet you. She says you sound lovely,” Roger kissed your forehead as you danced nervously around your dormitory room. 

You gave him a nervous smile. “I just really want them to like me,” you shake your hands nervously as he takes your hands in his, laugh gently at your nerves. “I’m serious, Roger. I love you and I want your parents to know how much I care for you,” you stand in between his legs as he sits on your bed.

Roger smiles and kisses your nose gently. “They’ll love you because they know how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Let’s be honest, though, what’s not to love about you?” he pokes at your sides as you giggle.

And he wasn’t wrong. Roger’s family was so warm and welcoming to you. Practically the moment his mother spoke to you, you saw how kind and lovely she was and how the whole family took you in instantly. You couldn’t be more grateful to have a boyfriend who had a family that was kind and welcoming like the Weasleys. 

On the first night at Roger’s home, you laid in bed next to Roger as you played with the hem of his jumper. “My family bloody loves you,” he whispered to you with the largest smile on his face. You smiled wide and pecked his cheek. “I’m serious. You even impressed Chester and that’s not an easy feat,” he refers to his older brother. 

You beam, “Your family is wonderful. Truly. I love them already and it’s just the first night.”

“It’s only going to get better from here,” Roger wiggles his brows as you giggle before he presses his lips to yours.

When the Weasley students arrived home from Hogwarts, they were all tightly embraced by Molly Weasley who peppered each of her kids’ faces with kisses, making them all lovingly groan. “Ah! Harry, there you are,” Molly beamed as she kisses the top of Harry’s head. “Good to have you back home again, my dear,” she spoke before doing the same to Hermione’s head and giving her a tight squeeze. Molly looked around the living room, searching for something or rather someone. “Where’s (Y/N)? Georgie, did you leave her at Hogwarts as a mean prank?” she teased before noticing her son’s hollow face and everyone tense up as Molly spoke of your name like it was You Know Who. “What happened, Georgie?” she looks at her son with a stern look in her face. She knew something was very wrong and she had a bad feeling about it.

George gulps before saying, “(Y/N) and I broke up, Mum.”

Molly’s face drops with sadness before looking at Arthur whose face resembles Molly’s. “Really? Oh my dear, I’m so sorry, Georgie. (Y/N) and you seemed so happy. How did it happen?” she implores as George stiffens and Fred sighs and rubs his face.

This is the part that George Weasley was dreading; the reason why you split up. Everyone else in the room was scared for him too, Merlin’s sake. With a deep breath, George said, “Um,” and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend, Mum. I betrayed her trust.”

And that’s when Molly’s face dropped into a serious expression. Molly always taught her children how to care for others and always be loyal to the ones who treat you with love. George’s behavior spoke a different story. “George Fabien Weasley,” she shook her head. “I thought you knew better,” her heart broke for you and it hurt her to know that one of her own boys did that to you. “Your father and I taught you better than that,” she told him with a disapproving look on her face.

It was all she needed to say in order to make George feel more disappointed in himself than ever. He sadly looked to Fred who gave him a sad smile. Losing you was the worst thing he’s ever done. He not only lost you, but he made his parents feel disappointed in him. You meant so much George and he threw that all away for a silly fling that he could never take back. George nervously bit down on his lip before huffing his way up the stairs, needing to be alone with his thoughts for a while. 

The Weasley siblings dispersed throughout the Burrow as they all felt the strange shift in the energy of the house. The house was feeling the weight of your absence. When everyone was in the Burrow, the home was full of life. But with you gone, it was like one piece of the puzzle was missing and wouldn’t be found. 

As George opened the door to he and Fred’s room, the memories of previous holidays flood George’s mind. The two of you laying on his bed, him on his back, you on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. He would steal kisses from you every now and then and poke at your sides, making you giggle wildly. George would hold you close in his arms and whisper how happy he was that you were with him. You would pepper his face in kisses, telling him how much you adored him in between pecks.

The memory made him smile as he entered the room, the more he walked in, the more memories resurfaces. He thought of the time you two watched the sunset out of his window, or the time you two laid on your back on his floor and reread a muggle book of yours, or the time he told you he loved you for the first time in the middle of the room on Christmas Eve all those years ago. 

“You alright, mate?” Fred’s voice interrupts George’s thoughts. Fred gives is brother a sad look. “I know it must be hard this time of year, George,” he puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But you’ll be alright. And so will she.” George shakes his head sadly. “Listen, George, even though what you did was still very wrong, you’re my brother and I love you. I’m here for you.”

George gives his brother a sad smile and shakes his head as if to say thank you. He looks Fred in the eyes and just shakes his head, “I want the best for her, Freddie. I want to be the best for her.” George has tears in his eyes and chokes lightly on his words.

Fred’s heart hurts for his brother. George rarely cried in front of Fred, he usually liked to be alone if he was going to cry. He didn’t like Fred seeing him upset. But this was too much for George to hide. Fred holds his brother’s arms and speaks, “I know, George. I know. But right now, what’s best for her is space. You both need to be away from each other. That’s what’s best for both of you.”

That made George realize that his brother was very right. As much as he hated to believe that you two couldn’t be together, George knew it was true. And he would have to be okay with that.  

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Never felt the rain

Summary:  Could you write something with Bill having a young daughter and when she asks him to go playing outside in the rain while he was working, he brushed her off, so she went out on own her own and got lost, so Bill thinks she went missing like Georgie?

A/N: here you go anon, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot! Also, thank you for requesting this, it had me writing again after a long time and I really missed it, so thank you

Bill has a habit of writing as soon as rain starts drizzling from the sky. He doesn’t usually maintain a schedule, especially not after going back to Derry for a second time an gaining six friends who flitted straight back into his life and who each deserved as much of his time as the others, but when it rains, he forces himself behind the computer.

He draws the curtains shut, puts on a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and hopes that the downpour stops soon. According to his therapist, it’s because the weather reminds him of the day Georgie died and he turns to writing as a distraction, and while she might not be wrong, Bill prefers not to think about the specifics. All he knows is that as soon as dark clouds gather, he retreats to his study.

Audra knows this, and has, to Bills great shame, been a victim to his snappish behavior when he gets disturbed, so she leaves him be, and takes their daughter, Lily, on a mother daughter retreat. It’s their own routine that work well for the both of them, and so far, there haven’t been any problems with it.

Today, the bad weather struck out of nowhere, the rain spatters drumming their own beat on the windows and the foundation of the house, and Bill and remembers how bleak Georgie’s last day on earth had been. He retreats to his study in quiet without informing his daughter or wife about his plans, and slips into an imaginary world, where there’s no rain or bad memories.

He gets lost in it, thankfully. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard and his own hushed voice lull him into a state so fully focused it allows him to forgo his environment. That includes ignoring the rain, but also the wooden door opening behind him as a small child sneaks in, big blue eyes full of a playful innocence.

He doesn’t hear Lily calling out to him, and is only notified of her arrival when her hand tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. It startles him, a cursed ‘Jesus’, slipping from his mouth before he clamps his teeth over his lips to stop more from tumbling out.

‘Daddy’, Bill reads of his daughters face, before he finally clads off the headset and hears her voice filter through.

She’s Georgie’s age now, and she resembles him a lot. For one, she looks up to her dad with as much wonder as her uncle did, a daddy’s girl through and through. She has the Knick for adventure too, though Bill is not sure that’s always a good thing.

‘What is it honey?’ He asks her with a soft voice. He suppresses the twinge of annoyance, now he’s broken out of his concentration, it’s hard not to notice the outside, and it’ll be difficult to reenter his writing groove.  

‘Can we play outside?’ She suggest, lips contorted in a devious little smile that proves that Audra must have said no to her question, and she’s now trying her hand at the person she has wrapped around her finger.

Bill’s gut reaction is to agree. How could he not, when he made the promise to himself to always be the best dad he could be, ever since finding out Audra was pregnant. He swore to himself that he’d never neglect his child, never put her on the backburner for anyone or anything, and that he’d enjoy, relish in every memory he’d be allowed to make with her.

But, he can’t. Not in this situation. Not when Pennywise only came back a mere four months ago, and he was forced into painful memories and past mistakes. Not when he’s relatively convinced that IT’s gone for real, but not 100% assured.

He smiles painfully, and gently pulls his daughter in his lap. It’s not so much that he’s trying to spoil his daughter, it’s just that he loves spending time with her as much as she adores spending time with him. His heart twinges painfully at the notion of disappointing her.

‘Not right now Lil, Daddy’s working.’ He presses a kiss on the top of her head, and squeezes her a bit tighter when a particularly hard downpour causes his heart to clench painfully. If only he had given Georgie a hug like this before letting him out that day.

It’s far too late for that regret now, but he won’t allow the same fate to be bestowed upon his daughter.

‘Please?’ Lily pouts, blinking her eyes in a way that is entirely disarming. She’s so good at convincing, she would make an excellent actress one day. ‘It’ll be so much fun.’ She leans in closer on Bill’s lap, bumping her forehead against Bill’s chest. ‘I promise I won’t step in any puddles.’

It’s a complete lie of course, and Bill can’t help but grin at the idea of Lilly thinking she’s being sneaky about the whole thing, but still, he can’t concur.

‘Later, alright buttercup? And I promise that I’ll spend an entire day with you tomorrow?’

Lily doesn’t smile, so Bill does the one thing he’s become a pro at since becoming a dad; ticking her until she can’t help but laugh.

She shrieks instantly, squirming away from Bill’s fingers as the dance over her sides until she’s nearly toppled of his lip in her haste to escape him, and then giggles long after Bill’s stopped.

Once that too dies out, she bites her lip, seemingly scanning her chances of getting him to agree on going out anyway, but then she concedes.

‘Alright then’, she says a little bit disheartened, but agreeing none the less. She slitters back out as quiet as she came in, but not before a kiss over her shoulder and waving at Bill.

‘See you later dad.’

Bill smiles and waves back, crushed by love and grief battling in his heart for the upper hand, then he puts on his headphone, covers his ears, and he neglects to hear the front door open and lock with a deafening pull.  

----

In the end, it’s the guilt that makes him give up only a half hour after Lilly came in to ask for his time. He peruse the last line he’d written, he hadn’t managed to find his flow after the interruption anyway, and closes the document of his new book for the day.

He still can’t find the strength to go outside in this weather but perhaps he can convince Lily that watching a movie and snacking on popcorn is a much better activity then getting wet and cold.

He shuffles into the kitchen, where Audra’s is already at, and wonders if they have enough corn to put together homemade popcorn.

‘Do you think Lily will want to watch a movie? I’m thinking Disney might be the way to go?’ He inquires Audra absentmindedly while scouring the pantries for the ingredients he needs. He knows, just from the sounds of Audra’s voice that something’s the matter.

‘She’s not with you?’ Audra chokes out, voice pinched in panic.

Bill’s heart stops for a full second, before rabbiting so hard his chest feels like exploding.

‘What?’ He asks, but the words feel foreign, like he’s not the one saying it.  Audra’s responding look is enough to give him all the answers he needs.

----

The rain remains unforgiven towards Bill, the background of the yet another great tragedy in his life. Cliché as it is, it does help cover up his tears, about the only positive thing in his situation right now. Audra is next to him, on the same level of utter panic as Bill’s, but he hopes for her sake that he appears more composed then he actually is.

He viciously wishes for the losers to be with him now, but calling them would take up to much time and they live too far away to be of any aid anyway.  

His neighbors are aiding in the search, but they’re not enough. He doesn’t trust them like he trust his friends, he doesn’t want the life of his daughter depending on strangers.

They keep telling him that she’s fine, that she’s most likely having the time of her life without realizing how her parents are in shambles, but Bill can’t believe that. Lily’s been out for at least thirty minutes, that’s the time they noticed she had disappeared, and even Bill is shivering his socks off. He can’t afford to think about how cold Lily must be.

He separates from the group of searches after the weird glances he receives unsettled peeks when he ducks on his knees and calls out for his daughter in a sewer. Audra, who knows in part what happened to Georgie, lets out a sob.

Bill feels bad for leaving his wife all by herself, but he wants to cover as much ground as possible. He can’t wait at their front porch praying for Lily’s safe return, he knows from experience how feeble that is.

The options of where Lily could be are limited. Her friends live too far away for her to have walked to them, and there was only one place kids of her age liked to hang out. Still, when the park turns up nothing, he scours the area surrounding it, yelling out Lily’s name until his voice skips and a hoarse tone underline his words.

‘P-p-please.’ He screams with his head thrown back towards the sky, his stutter going unnoticed. ‘H-haven’t you t-t-taken enough from m-m-me?’ He’s unsure who he’s calling out too.

Bill’s attention is pulled towards a curtain that wobbles open, and old lady peeking from behind it, judging him with curious eyes. The first one to gossip apparently, but the last to help. Just as with Georgie. Bile threatened to spill as Bill walks on.

With his energy running low, as does his hope, Bill concedes to try and walk in the other direction of his home, to see if anyone else has had more luck than him. Then, seemingly using up all of Bill’s luck for the rest of his life, a wobbled; ‘Daddy’, cries out.

He’s never backed up so quick, and when he lays eyes on Lily, he’s never run that fast towards her either. It’s the pure and utter fear you experience as a kid, when you get lost in a comic in the store and you swivel back around to your mom, but she’s gone somewhere and you can’t find her.

That’s the feeling that linger when you lose someone close to you. And when she pops back up, that’s the utter relief Bill gets to taste now.

He’s back on his knees before he can comprehend it, and his hand curls around Lily’s back and head, cradling her so close this chest it’s nearly suffocating. Bill weeps, caressing his daughters hair as he checks her over.

‘Oh honey’, he chokes, swelling multiple times to force back the lump of tears.

Lily’s crying too, though it seems more out of reluctant than anything else.

‘I’m sorry dad. I just wanted to go out and play. But I fell and I think my bike is broken. I’m really sorry.’

Bill sorrow laughs. He can’t stop the ridiculous laughter that’s so absurd.

‘Lily, I couldn’t care less about a bike’, Bill explains, and he means it every bit. He pulls her back in a tight hug, allowing himself ten more seconds before he has to let go of her.

‘Please don’t ever do that again,’ he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on her head. He holds her as close as he wish he could have done to Georgie, if he had been found alive too. Maybe later, tomorrow or the day after, he’d have a more firm conversation about how sneaking out is not okay, but today, the relief wins over every other emotion or lecture.

‘Is mom mad?’ Lily asks, her own arms clenched around Bill’s shirt so tight it’s clear that she also had a large fright.

Shit, Audra. In an instant, Bill picks up his daughter, arm holding her up by the knees. She’s old enough to walk, but Bill has longer legs and walks faster.

‘No’, he assures her, despite a conformation of Audra. He’s sure his feeling are rekindled in his wife too. ‘But we have to let her know you’re okay. She’s worried too.’

‘Okay’, Lily agrees easy, her head resting on Bill’s shoulders. The rain isn’t that cold anymore, now that he has his child back in the safety of his arms.

----

That evening, Bill, Audra and Lily are cuddles together on their couch, watching Aladdin. Lily has long slipped to the land of dreams, but Bill and Audra want to keep her close for a little while longer. Maybe they’ll all spend the night here anyway, regardless of future back pains, but that’s a discussion for later.

Bill swipes one of Lily’s curls from her forehead gently, smiling when she snores deeper, then settles again.

‘Love you buttercup.’ Bill says, in his mind, he thinks, ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you.’

[baubabble]

“Diamonds and Dances” Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer used to date at the Academy. When you graduated, you broke it off. Later, when you are assigned to the BAU, old feelings resurface. When Hotch assigns the two of you to go undercover together at an event, how will those feelings evolve?

Word Count: 5258

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Cherry” by Harry Styles

Note: My first attempt at writing Spencer! Thank you for all the love on my Hotch series!

-------

“If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.”― Kahlil Gibran

The case had finally hit a dead end.

You and the rest of the team were sitting in the Los Angeles FBI Field Office, staring at the ceiling. Four couples had been brutally murdered at local events over the past sixth months and so far, the local agents had nothing. When Garcia was given the request for assistance, Hotch had taken the case immediately.

You had been at the BAU for more than a year now and you had never been this frustrated. You could tell that the more seasoned agents such as Morgan and Rossi were just as annoyed that no leads were surfacing as well.

Spinning lazily in your chair, your eyes fell on Reid as they usually did. Spencer Reid was the one that got away in more ways than one. You and the doctor had met at the Academy and instantly hit it off. The two of you had dated for almost a year before you had broken it off. Spencer was going to the BAU and you were going to sex crimes. It was just the way it had to be. You were happy to make a clean break rather than trying to tackle a complicated relationship.

That is until Strauss had requested you to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had been hesitant at first for many reasons. Then, Aaron Hotchner had called you personally and encouraged you to take the position. He was aware of your history with Reid and said he would do his best to make sure the environment was as professional as possible.

Which is how you found yourself at a crossroads with your current case. “I’m about to shove pencils in my eyes,” Garcia said from beside you. Penelope had been asked to join the team on this case due to the unsub’s signature at hacking into security systems and traffic cams.

“You too?” you asked, turning to her.

“My brain has never felt tired before,” Garcia said. “Is this normal?”

“I think we all need some rest, Baby Girl,” Derek said as he rolled over to Penelope and began massaging her shoulders. You watched the action with a hint of envy. There was too much going on inside your head for anything right now. Pushing back from the table, you stood up.

“I need some air,” you announced and headed out of the conference room. The team watched after you for a moment before returning to their work, except one member’s eyes remained fixed on your exit.

------

Spencer Reid was the best problem solver the team had.

He never had problems with finding the missing puzzle piece in the case or analyzing a criminal’s motives. However, there was one problem, he couldn’t quite crack.

You.

Reid had never gotten over your breakup. He sat awake for nights after you had broken it off trying to figure out what he had done wrong. He had confided in everyone he knew. His mother said that you just weren’t the right person for him, but Spencer disagreed. You were perfect for him, perfect for each other. He didn’t know what went wrong. One day the two of you had been smiling, laughing, and then it was like a switch had flipped and you just ended it.

Then when you had joined the BAU, hope reentered Spencer’s mind. Perhaps this was a chance to tell you how he felt and maybe even rekindle something from years before. However, those thoughts were quickly dismissed when he overheard a conversation you were having with Penelope about a man named Robbie, your new boyfriend.

Watching the way your face lit up when you spoke about the new man in your life felt like ice to his heart. He remembered when you used to look like that when you spoke about him and now it was reserved for someone else. Shortly after this, he had confided in JJ about the issue, finally expressing his thoughts to another member of the team.

“It’s been years, Spence,” JJ had told him, rubbing his back affectionately as he sat on her couch watching Henry play with a new toy Will had bought him. “It’s normal for people to move on.”

“But I haven’t,” Spencer had said. “I haven’t, JJ, and I don’t know if I can handle seeing her every day and knowing she’s with someone else.”

“Who knows,” JJ had said, “maybe the universe will be in your favor.”

“You know I don’t believe in any of that.”

“Maybe just this once you can,” JJ had said before squeezing his arm and then dropping the subject altogether.

------

You stood out on the terrace of the field office, listening to the bustling city around you.

You never liked Los Angeles. It wasn’t like DC, there were too many people, too many skyscrapers, and the grating sound of traffic always made you want to scream. When you were working in sex crimes, you would head to the roof when things got too complicated to try and clear your mind. Most of the time it would work, other times, such as now, would just make you more irritated.

“You know, I’m not sure the air in this city is the best for clearing your head,” Hotch said as he exited out onto the terrace. You smiled to yourself as you stared out at the City of Angels.

“Did Penelope tell you to check on me?” you asked as he joined you at the railing.

“Maybe,” Hotch said with a shrug. “Are you okay?”

“Just frustrated,” you explained. “It’s been a while since we’ve been at such a big roadblock.”

“I wasn’t referring to the case, (Y/N),” Hotch said with a knowing look. You sighed, turning to look at him. “I’ve noticed you’ve seemed out of sorts for the past couple of weeks.”

“Which means the rest of the team has too,” you figured.

“Maybe, but they won’t confront you about it.”

“But you will?” you asked, amused.

“I’m your boss, it’s my job,” Hotch said. You smiled at that. “I’ve just seen a change in you and I’m assuming it is to do with your personal life.”

“Isn’t it always?” you asked with a chuckle. “I’m okay, Hotch. Just going through the awkward phase that happens after a breakup.” Hotch nodded in understanding.

“Ah, you and your boyfriend ended things,” he realized.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make a big deal about it. Especially at work,” you said with a look that conveyed more than the words you were saying.

“I completely understand,” said Hotch. “On the brighter side, I think we may have an idea on how to draw the unsub out.”

“Am I going to like it?” you asked. Hotch grimaced. “I’ll take that as a no.”

-------

You were right, you definitely didn’t like it.

“Undercover?” you asked as you leaned against the wall of the conference room. Spencer sat in his chair across the room from you, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s the best idea we’ve been able to come up with,” Rossi said, “plus, with your work in sex crimes, you have the most undercover hours next to Emily.” You held your tongue before you could suggest why Emily just couldn’t do it. “You are the unsub’s type and so is Reid. If we are correct about the profile and where he is hitting next, the two of you should be the perfect lure.”

When Hotch and Rossi explained that you and Spencer would be going undercover as a married couple to the next charity event in hopes of finally catching Daniel Hill, the unsub, you were less than thrilled. This would not be your first time going undercover, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that you would have to pretend to be married to Spencer and by the looks of it, he seemed even less than thrilled about the situation.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Hotch asked, glancing between you and Reid.

“No, Sir,” you said and Spencer shook his head.

“It may be a little bit awkward with (Y/N)’s boo,” Morgan joked and Penelope kicked him under the table. When you didn’t laugh, Derek realized what the look on your face meant. “Oh…(Y/L/N), I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine,” you said, pushing off the wall. “Robbie and I are done. It’s been done for a bit now and I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with so none of us have to stay in this city any longer.”

“Amen to that,” Emily said.

“I’m going to send debrief packets to your hotel rooms,” Hotch said. “The event is tonight so I need you to be ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” you and Spencer said at the same time. Hotch then dismissed the rest of you and you headed for the door, needing to get back to the hotel and start preparing for the evening. Spencer caught up to you as you walked through the office.

“Hey,” he said, pulling you to a stop, “are you going to be okay with this?”

“Yes, Spencer,” you said. “It’s our job and we’ll get it done.”

“I know, but we haven’t really worked closely together since you joined and to put on an undercover operation like this…” he trailed off, but you could tell what he was thinking. You always could.

“Spencer,” you said softly, “do me a favor, okay?”

“Anything.”

“For the next ten hours or so, let’s not be (Y/N) and Spencer. I agree that we have never truly talked about what happened between us since I joined the team, but tonight is not the time. I want to, I do, but we need to get through this night. So, until we get this son of a bitch, we are just two agents on a mission. No baggage. Deal?” Spencer let out a breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as he mulled over your words. Eventually, he nodded.

“Deal.”

-----

The undercover packet had arrived just as you stepped out of the shower.

It was a basic cover. You and Spencer would be attending the event as Mr. and Mrs. Kelling, a wealthy couple from Maine. Your alias, Miranda Kelling, was nothing like you and that was how you preferred it. The more you could distance yourself from an undercover mission, the better. Spencer was playing Anderson Kelling and he was the president of a tech conglomerate that Garcia was writing up now. At least he would be able to cover for the both of you if anyone asked any questions.

A little bit later, a knock came at your door, and you were met with a smiling Penelope. In her hands was a white garment bag. “Please tell me it’s not pink,” you said as you let her in.”

“Oh, please,” Garcia scoffed. “You act as if I don’t know you at all. Undercover or not, I know you would never wear pink.” You laughed quietly as Garcia laid the bag out on the bed and unzipped it.

The dress was simple. A dark eggplant color that was low in the back and high at the neck. The slit was tasteful and knowing Garcia, it would fit you perfectly. However, while it was beautiful, your heart jumped just looking at it. The color of the gown was the same color as the dress you had worn on your first date with Spencer when he had taken you to a film festival. Whether Penelope knew that or not, didn’t matter. You knew it would matter to him.

“Do you like it?” Garcia asked. You nodded, unable to speak. “I can get something else if you don’t.”

“Penelope, it’s great,” you said, “really. Please tell me you have shoes to go with it.” Garcia then smiled and held up the other bag in her hands.

“Strappy or pumps?” she asked, shaking the bag before you. You gave in and laughed along with your friend as you let her accessorize you for the gala.

It was another hour before Garcia left to meet up with Morgan and JJ who were outfitting their security van that would be parked in the loading zone of the venue. The next time someone knocked on your door. You knew who it would be.

Pulling the door open, Spencer stood there with his hands in his pockets and his signature smile. You stepped aside and he entered, looking around the room awkwardly. “Did you read through the packet?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Twice,” you assured him. “Is that why you’re here? To make sure I did my homework?” you asked, amusement in your eyes. He rolled his eyes and you could tell he was starting to loosen up a bit more.

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same side for the cover,” he explained “And to give you this,” he said as he dug into his pocket and produced a small velvet box.

“Ah,” you said, realizing what it was. He handed it to you and you took it quickly, placing it down next to the necklace Garcia had brought for you to wear. You didn’t want to open it in front of Reid. Everything was already awkward enough. “So, Mr. Kelling,” you began, “tell me about your company.”

The two of you went back and forth asking questions about each other’s covers. Pretending to be other people was actually helping you talk to him. Thinking of him as this imaginary husband was much easier than staring into those warm brown eyes and seeing the man who once held you like you were the most important thing in the universe.

“You know,” Spencer said as he lay on his back on your bed, “Morgan was supposed to do this with you.”

“Derek? Undercover as a tech guy?” you asked with a laugh. Reid sat up and looked at you as you sat at the small table, your file in your hands. He smiled softly as you chuckled. “That would have been something to see.”

“Maybe next time,” Spencer said. “You know, once he’s had more time to prepare. Hotch asked me because I didn’t have to do any additional research. I would have said no, but we need to find this guy and since we’ve already gotten his accomplice, I just thought—”

“Spencer,” you said, cutting him off, “you’re running on fumes.” He took a breath. That was something you always said when he started rambling when he got nervous. It was also something he did when he was avoiding what he was actually saying.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, “but just for the record, I’m not upset you were assigned to do this mission with me.”

“You’re not?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Nope,” you said and it was the truth. In fact, you were just incredibly nervous about being this close to him for the first time in years. “So stop stressing. Everything is going to work out fine.” You got up and approached him. You gripped him by the shoulders and looked at him in the eye. “Now, go put on your tux so we can get this bastard.”

------

You stood in front of the floor-length mirror as you fussed with the gown.

Garcia sure did know how to pick ballgowns. The deep purple dress fit you perfectly. Paired with the nude heels and the light jewelry, you looked as expensive as Miranda Kelling was supposed to be. The large diamond sat on your left hand felt way too heavy. You lifted your hand to your face, tilting it so the diamond glittered in the low light.

When you had first lifted the lid to the box, your eyes had widened at the sheer size of the diamond. Apparently Rossi knew someone in LA with ties to a jeweler and you were renting the piece for the evening. Just placing it on your finger felt...wrong. And not just because of the price,  but because you imagined the first time you wore a wedding ring it would on your actual wedding day and not for a sting.

The thought of Spencer having a matching band on his left hand sent a thrill through you that you weren’t expecting. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it in the past. When the two of you were together at the academy, the subject of marriage had come up frequently. It was always said with a bout of laughter afterward. Neither of you had ever said anything to make the other think that you were being serious, but at times, you definitely were. Snapping out of your thoughts, you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and then headed for the door.

Stepping out into the lobby of the garish hotel, you spotted Rossi immediately. He was dressed as a chauffeur as he would be the one to take you and Reid to the event to keep up appearances. Walking around the corner, you finally saw your date for the evening. Spencer wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His hair was combed and his shoes shined in the glittering light of the chandelier that swung above him. Hearing the clicks of your heels, he turned towards you and his mouth fell open.

He quickly controlled his expression, but you had seen it. The look in his eyes as he beheld you strolling towards him. It was a familiar look, one he had given you in the past and everything began flooding back. You tried to ignore it as you joined him and Rossi. “This is all very ‘James Bond’,” you said, looking at the three of you.

“Well, just go easy on the martinis you two,” Rossi said with a small smile. Then from his pocket, he produced a white rose. “Morgan got the partner to talk and he agreed to help if we offered him a deal. He made the call and told Hill that the target this evening will be with a beautiful woman and wearing this on his jacket,” Rossi said as he tucked the rose into Spencer’s lapel.

“Great, nothing says ‘murder me’ like a rose,” Spencer muttered as he adjusted the flower. You smiled to yourself at his attempt at a joke. Rossi was watching both you, his eyes flickering back and forth.

“Just stick to the plan and this will all be over before you know it,” Rossi said as he gestured you out to the car. You and Reid followed him, neither of you saying anything. You had expected it to be awkward, but this felt...alien. It was also starting to become clear why Hotch had assigned you to this mission with Spencer. He most likely figured you wouldn’t have to do much acting, but seeing him dressed up and with that wedding band on his finger, you felt as if you were looking at a stranger. You had no idea how you were going to make it through the evening.

-----

Arriving at the venue, Rossi helped you from the car, giving your arm a final squeeze before leaving you in Spencer’s capable hands.

As Rossi drove away, Reid held out his arm to you. Slipping into the character of Miranda Kelling, you took his arm and smiled at him warmly. Spencer, or rather, Anderson, smiled back and led you into the venue.

The party was fit for Los Angeles. The garish decorations were shiny metallic and smartly dressed waiters milled around with flutes of champagne. The other patrons were dressed just as well as the two of you and as they laughed, more champagne was poured and more money was spent. You weren’t even sure what charity they were supporting at the event.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to pick up on any agents, but Hotch had said nobody was going to be on the floor except for the two of you. Hill was too smart and would pick them out in a heartbeat.

You and Spencer walked around the room, keeping close to one another. As a waiter passed by, you grabbed a flute off the tray and drank half in one go. The liquid courage did nothing to satiate the nerves that bubbled in your stomach. As you finished your drink, you looked for another, but Spencer had stepped in front of you, giving you a concerned look.

“What?” you asked, keeping your face pleasant in case the unsub or others were watching.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I know you aren’t thrilled to be with me tonight, but I can also tell that something else is bothering you.”

“Very perceptive,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “Look, I can’t talk to you about this right now.” He sighed and then took your hand. To anyone else, it would just look like a husband holding his wife’s hand, but you knew he was feeling for your pulse point. Something he always did when he wanted you to tell him the truth. It was both charming and infuriating.

“Is this about Robbie?” Spencer asked and your hand froze in his grip. He nodded to himself as he realized he had finally guessed right. “He never deserved you.” You took your hand back and tried to walk away. However, Spencer had another idea. Gently taking your wrist, Reid pulled you to the dance floor, spinning you into his arms.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you played along, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his right hand. The two of you swayed back and forth in silence for a moment before he finally spoke again. “You look so beautiful,” he said softly.

“Spencer,” you sighed, dropping your gaze to the buttons on his shirt, “please don’t.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You know why,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you as if you were the only person in the room and it took you back to the first time you had danced with him.

It was at an event the Academy hosted for the new recruits. The two of you had just met during orientation and he had been bold enough to ask you to dance when he noticed you sitting by yourself at a lone table. Both of you had been very awkward on your feet, but you had managed to get a rhythm going and among all the laughter and stepping on toes, it had been the first step in developing feelings for the man before you.

“I noticed the color of your dress as soon as you walked into the lobby,” Spencer said, his fingers curling tighter around your own. “I always did love you in purple.” Ducking your head, you rested your forehead against his chest, just trying not to think about his hand on your waist or the fact that he was wearing the same cologne he always did. The one that smelled like wood and parchment. Reid pulled you in closer, his hand moving to the small of your back.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered.

“I don’t want you to think about him,” Reid said, turning you both in a slow circle, “because I can’t do it anymore.” Pulling back, you looked up at him with curious eyes.

“Do what?” you asked.

“All those months when you were with him… seeing you smile when you and Garcia spoke about him or when he would drop flowers off for you at the office,” Spencer sighed. “I couldn’t handle it, (Y/N).” Hearing that confession slip from his lips made you stumble in your heels. He kept his hands tight on you, keeping you steady. Just as he always had. “I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Your eyes fell closed at his words and every emotion you had tried to shove down since the day the two of you had parted ways came surging back into the forefront of your mind. Spencer Reid was looking at you as if you hung the moon and while he would probably say something along the lines of ‘that’s impossible, a human wouldn’t be able to hang the moon’, that was what you saw in his eyes.

“Don’t you remember?” he continued.

“Spencer…” you said, but he couldn’t stop.

“My mom, (Y/N),” he said. “Don’t you remember how much she loves you? You were one of the only people who could keep her calm and she loved to tell you stories about the things she’s learned over the years. I remember everything about our time together.”

“You have an eidetic memory,” you reminded him.

“That’s not the reason I remember,” he said, placing his hand under your chin. You couldn’t help the tears that pricked your eyes at his words. At that moment, the mission was forgotten and everything was moving in slow motion. “Tell me, (Y/N),” he said, “tell me that you don’t love me, Tell me and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t do that,” you whispered. A small gasp escaped him at your confession and it was as if his entire body relaxed at your words. Spencer leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours, drinking you in. The orchestra in the background played a score fit for the moment and if you weren’t supposed to be on duty, you would have stayed in that moment forever. Spencer pulled back and glanced down at your lips, but before either of you could move in closer, you spotted a man watching the two of you.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked.

“Hill,” you whispered, plastering a fake smile on your face as you looked up at your fake husband. “He’s dressed as a caterer. The long scar on his cheek is just as the partner said. Looks like Morgan’s interrogation techniques are getting better.” Spencer took you and spun you around so he could get a visual, glancing briefly before grinning down at you. He then lifted your left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Shall we go somewhere more private, Mrs. Kelling?” he asked and you nodded, taking him by the hand and dragging him towards the service hall. Everything in you was fighting to stay focused as you slipped back into your FBI persona. With Spencer’s confession, work was the last thing you wanted to do, but this man had killed enough people and the two of you were the last chance to take him down.

You and Reid pushed into the hallway, giggling like drunk teenagers.

You stumbled on your dress and he held you up, pulling on his bow tie. It didn’t take long for the killer to follow. You and Spencer were pressed against a wall, Reid’s hands going into your hair. He smiled down at you and slinked away as if you were playing a game. When he went to follow you, that’s when you were grabbed from behind.

“Move and she dies,” Hill said, waving his gun around. Spencer raised his hands in mock surrender and then he looked at you. “On your knees!” Hill yelled, but Spencer didn’t move. With a quick nod to you, you slammed your stiletto into the top of his foot. A shot rang out as the bullet pierced the ceiling, but you both moved faster. Spencer grabbed hold of the unsub as you took the gun from his grasp. Reid spun Hill around and slammed him into the floor.

“FBI,” Spencer said, “Daniel Hill, you are under arrest for the murders of Caitlin and Adam Dever, Brooke and Ryan Wood, Joanne and James Black, and Greta and Lewis Joy…” as Spencer continued to read him his rights, you disabled the gun and let out a deep breath. From your right, Hotch and Prentiss came running down the hall, their guns were drawn. JJ and Morgan weren’t far behind.

As Spencer got Hill to his feet, you turned and walked away. There was too much going on inside your mind and you had to get air. Walking past, Morgan, you placed the confiscated gun into his hands as you continued to move past your team. You could hear Reid calling out to you, but you couldn’t stop moving. You just needed to think.

-----

Once everything had calmed down, you all went back to your respective hotel rooms.

As soon as your door closed behind you, your heels were off and you headed right for the balcony. Garcia had texted you earlier and told you Hill would be processed and that Rossi and Emily had gotten a full confession out of him and his partner. That was enough for you to relax a little bit further, but there was still the issue of what happened before.

Then, as if the universe was listening there was a knock on your door. Pulling the sliding door behind you, you went to your door. You didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. Unlocking the chain, you pulled open the door and were met with Spencer. He was still wearing his disheveled tuxedo, but his hair was no longer neat. It was how he always wore, the way you loved it. In his hand was a single yellow lily, your favourite flower.

You stepped aside and invited him in, closing the door quietly behind you. “You just left,” he said as you turned to face him. His long fingers were holding the flower by its stem, twirling it around.

“I just needed time, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said with a soft smile and then offered you the flower. You took it, pressing its petals to your nose. “I know how you think (Y/N), which is why I waited a bit before showing up here.”

“You always did know me best,” you said as you lay the lily on the stand by the door.

“I still like to think I do,” he said, reaching for your hand. You let him take it as you had earlier on the dance floor. He dragged you towards him, placing his hands on your hips gently. “You are so incredible,” he whispered.

“I never cared about him as much as I cared for you, Spencer,” you admitted. “When I broke things off after we graduated from the Academy, I thought I was doing us a favor. I thought it would be too complicated, that we would struggle with the time apart. I was so wrong. I am so sorry that I didn’t believe in us enough to stay.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point and Spencer was shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize, (Y/N),” he said. “I understand. I think I always did, but I meant what I said earlier: I never stopped loving you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“And you think I did?” you asked. “God, Spencer, I love you so much and I should have told you the moment I walked into the BAU.” Spencer’s face split into a grin and he didn’t even hesitate to pull you into him. His lips met yours and your hands wound into his unruly hair. Light burst behind your eyes as the two of you finally said hello once again. Spencer Reid was the one for you and you would never doubt that ever again.

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”― Paulo Coelho

[marmosa]

evenings with you.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: none!

A/N: harry potter won’t be the only thing i write about, but for now it might be since a few of my friends are really rekindling my love for the universe (not jkr tho, fuck that bitch).  

***

The common room buzzed with people running about, chatting among themselves and waiting impatiently for their slower friends so they could make their way down to the stand for this week’s Quidditch match. The fireplace crackled nearby, a sharp undercurrent beneath all the busy conversation. 

“You know [y/n],” Evie spoke up, leaning her head back over the armrest of the couch, “red eyeliner really suits you, you should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you darling, I’m not so sure it’ll become a regular part of my attire, but it sure does make spirit wear even more fun to wear,” [y/n] chuckled, glancing at her reflection in the tiny handheld mirror she kept with her at almost all times. 

“Whatever you say. I personally think that that Weasley boy you fancy is going to love it, he does seem like the type to enjoy bold colors,” Evie hummed pretending to ignore the daggers being shot at her form [y/n]’s eyes. 

“Would you quiet down! What if he hears you? We’re all Gryffindor’s you absolute fool,” [y/n] hissed, reaching forward and imitating a strangling motion. 

“I’ll start quieting down once you two go on a proper date, it’s so boring that you’re still taking this long to have finally made a first move,” Evie drawled, pushing herself into a sitting position, “besides-,” she paused and small smirk drawing onto her features, “speak of the red-headed devil.” 

[y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she quickly composed herself, panicking on not only what she planned to say but why he’d decided to approach them in the first place. 

“Hey Evie,” Fred chimed cheerily, turning to [y/n] with a more reserved gentleness, “hey [y/n]. You two heading down the pitch yet? The game starts soon and we’re gonna need as much support as we can get.” 

“You boys don’t need the flattery, your ego’s already too big from the last two games you absolutely crushed,” Evie scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully at Fred’s request. 

“Hey, you never know how things can turn out. One wrong move and our winning streak could fall apart!” Fred feigned offence at her remark, placing his hand over his chest. 

“If you really need a good luck charm, I heard [y/n]’s kisses are one of the most lucky charms there is,” Evie teased, sticking her tongue out at her now hot-faced friend. 

“I’m not kissing anybody, especially not a quidditch player, it’ll go straight to their head,” [y/n] muttered, tipping her head up in pride to prove her point, “besides, Fred here does just fine without any sort of charm.” 

“Now don’t be that way [y/n], that’s just rude. You know I’ll take any luck I can get though, if the offer still stands,” Fred teased, plopping down on the sofa next to her and tapping his cheek suggestively. 

“Watch it,” [y/n] grit, elbowing him in the side.

“Hey! Careful with the merchandise! I have a match to win,” Fred frowned, holding his hands up to protect himself from any other preemptive attacks. 

“Whatever,” [y/n] muttered, rolling her eyes, “If you so desperately need a good luck charm, here.” She reached behind her and un-clipped her necklace, dangling the golden pendent with the heart charm at the end in front of him. 

“Are you sure,” Fred whispered, eyeing the chain cautiously, “I wouldn’t want to break it.” 

“It’s not fragile, besides, you can repair it with a quick spell can’t you?” She grinned, letting the chain sink into his palm. 

He pressed his lips together to hide his smile, making quick work of putting on the necklace and tucking the pendent under his collar, grinning widely at an amused [y/n], “I have a good feeling about this match.”

“You say that about every match,” [y/n] teased. 

“I mean it this time,” Fred beamed, looking up as Oliver called his name from the portraits entrance, “Well, I must take my leave. Send me your luck from the stands ladies, I bid you adieu,” He nodded before jogging off, scooping his helmet off a nearby table as he ducked out of the common room. 

Before [y/n] could get lost in her thought, Evie squealed loudly and nearly pounced on her, squeezing her arm, “You two were so flirting! That has got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen, I can’t believe you two haven’t made out already!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” [y/n] bit back a smile, leaning her head onto her friends shoulder as she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of their small interaction, “Anyways, we have a match to go watch, up and at it now, yeah?” 

“Hot chocolate and gossip afterwards?” Evie asked, shimmying excitedly. 

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else,” [y/n] grinned.

***

“YOU COULD’VE HIT THAT, FOCUS WEASLEY, FOCUS!” [y/n] screamed from the stands, her cries probably getting drowned out among the other student’s commotion. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have teased him so much, it might’ve rubbed off,” Evie sighed, nudging [y/n] slightly, trying to gain her attention. 

“Probably,” [y/n] muttered, furrowing her brows as she eyes the scoreboard, the players, and the commentators, “should’ve given him that kiss,” [y/n] continued, more to herself than anyone else. 

The game continued on, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff holding their own as the time ticked by to the end. As soon as it had started it had finished, Gryffindor scoring the victory by less than 15 extra points, relief flooding over the students packing into the stands. 

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” [y/n] called out from the stands, as the students jeered and began making their way out of the stands and back into the castle.

Fred caught her eye as he soared around on his broom, beaming wider than she could’ve hoped for, waving at her frantically and nearly falling off his broom in the process. She laughed to herself, muttering a few insults under her breath as Evie dragged her along, insistent on getting their favored spot in the commons before anyone else could. 

The Gryffindor victory did nothing short of energize the entire house, the common room nearly shaking with joy and pride, drinks and snacks alike being shared like the last supper they’d ever have. 

Evie cheered with everyone else, still bounding on the same adrenaline high everyone else was. She plopped back down on the couch, wrapping an arm around [y/n]‘s shoulder, “Have you seen Weasley yet?” she questioned as quiet as she could against the deafening noise of the common room. 

“Nope, not yet, he’s probably off doing something stupid with the boys,” [y/n] shrugged, a little bummed she didn’t get to see him, but still overjoyed with the outcome of the match nonetheless. 

The night passed by in a blur. A few hours packed full of speeches, songs, jokes, stories, and food, everyone eventually falling upon the inevitable crash of exhaustion. Nearly everyone but a few stragglers had retired to their rooms for the night, the common room surprisingly clean for how much chaos had already ensued. 

“I’m heading to bed, you coming?” Evie offered, pushing herself off the couch and onto her feet, sore from the hours of insistent standing. 

“I think I’m going to hang around for a bit, you head up. I’ll make sure I’m as quiet as mouse when I return, won’t wake a soul,” [y/n] promised, waving goodbye to her friend as she snuggled into the couch, the crackling of the fireplace becoming the background to her nightly pondering session. 

She remained engulfed in thought as she recalled the events of today, he face running hot as she remembered Fred’s witty remarks along with the thought that he was indeed wearing her necklace. Her mind reeled enough that she didn’t notice the mop of red hair rapidly approaching her as silent as could be. 

“[y/n]!” Fred whisper-yelled, startling her out of her reverie.

“Shit-! Fred? Don’t scare me like that you moron,” She hissed, shooting her leg out to kick at his defenseless legs. 

He hopped backwards and situated himself on the couch as soon as she’d stopped kicking, “Still got some fight in you huh, the party didn’t wear you out?” 

“Of course it did, I’m just,” She shrugged, unsure of what to answer, “congrats on the win today. You did a,” she paused, pondering her words, “average job. Could’ve been better.” 

Fred’s mouth dropped open as he absorbed her words, shocked and amused that she’d jab at him like that, “You are just being a little spitfire today, aren’t you?” 

“And what’s it to you, Weasley,” She hummed, turning her body to face him, knees still hugged tightly to her chest. 

“I’m starting to think you hate me,” He mumbled, pouting and leaning his head onto the back of the couch. 

“Close but not quite. You can be charming,” She smiled, “sometimes.”  

“You know what,” he sighed, “I’ll take it. Perhaps me keeping your necklace in tact will earn me a few points?” 

He pulled the charm out from under the collar of his hoodie, holding it out like a medal of honor. [y/n] leaned forward and held the pendant in her palm, examining the gold heart for any dents or scratches. Fred held his breath, batting his eyes a few times at how close she was, the smell of cinnamon and sugar heavy coming faintly from her. 

“It seems you did keep it in tact, I’m impressed,” She grinned, letting the pendant swing back onto his chest, tapping it reassuringly with her fingertips. 

“I-uh, thanks,” He stumbled over his words, still recuperating from her closeness, “Do you- do you want it back?” 

“Hm? Oh no, you can keep it. I have a feeling you could use some luck on your side,” She hummed, leaning her chin into the divot between her two knees, looking up at him with inviting eyes. 

“I’ll cherish it until my dying day,” He proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulder for a moment to enlarge his frame. 

“I have no doubt in my mind that you will,” she giggled, her heart being overtaken by a fuzzy feeling, head lolling to the side. 

Fred glanced down at her sleepy face, her eyes blinking in a slow manner and her body moving sluggishly, “I think you’re ready for bed.” 

“Says who? I’m not even tired,” [y/n] yawned, defeating her entire point. 

“Here, I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll give you my hoodie, just like you gave me your necklace, if you go to sleep right now,” Fred offered, heart hammering in his chest as he realized just how direct he was probably being with such a request. 

Her eyes widened slightly before sinking back down, a lazy smile pulling its way onto her lips, “It’s a deal.” 

Fred grinned widely, yanking his hoodie off by the back of the collar, stretching his arms up and over his head to get it off. 

[y/n] couldn’t help but catch the quick glimpse of his toned abdomen that wormed its way into the open as he forced off his hoodie. She quickly composed herself, trying to not let him see how her eyes were nearly ready to pop out of their sockets. 

“Here, I hope my cologne isn’t too overbearing,” He handed her the hoodie, the locket now on display in the center of divot in his neck. 

She took it graciously and inhaled his scent out of curiosity, her brain going fuzzy at the lovely smell of ceder-wood, evergreen, and mint that filled her nose, “It’s actually really nice, keep buying whatever cologne this is.” 

“Why thank you, that’s actually very kind of you,” Fred smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” She smiled, “well, a deal’s a deal. Off to bed I go.” 

“Yeah, Of course.”

The two of them stood up, [y/n] pulling on the hoodie and basking in the glow that was Fred. He looked down at her as she fiddled with the sleeves, turning side to side to get a feel for it, the gesture itself making Fred’s face burn red. 

“I think I look ready to take on the world, what’s your take?” She chuckled, being slightly taken aback when she looked back up to see Fred covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, the tips of his ears burning red. 

“It, yeah, it looks great. Grey suits you, you should wear it more often,” he nodded, still refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] nodded, suddenly embarrassed to have even agreed to take it in the first place, “Well, goodnight Fred.” 

“Goodnight [y/n],” he passed her a tight-lipped smile as she shuffled off to her dormitory, he mind suddenly clouded with doubt. 

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” Fred muttered to himself, watching her disappear around the bend, cursing under his breath and heading off to his own dormitory. 

***

“HE GAVE YOU HIS HOODIE!” Evie shouted, shaking [y/n] awake as their other two roommates chuckled to themselves, running around as they got ready for breakfast. 

“That he did,” [y/n] replied in a groggy voice, stretching out her limbs as Evie paced back and forth next to her bed, going on about “a date not being far behind” or something of the sort. 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll there chief,” [y/n] sat up and rubbed at her sunken eyes, “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Evie stopped dead in her tracks and turned to look at [y/n] with complete disbelief, “You’re kidding right? That’s the most idiotic thing that has ever come out of your mouth, and you’ve said some pretty dumb shit.” 

“It’s not idiotic! He looked at me weird when I put it on and he probably regret it anyways, it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll just return it to him when we go to breakfast,” [y/n] muttered, sitting up and beginning to work on her morning routine. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Evie scoffed, returning to whatever she had been doing before she decided to corner [y/n]. 

“Mhm,” [y/n] replied. 

The Great Hall was already bustling with students when the two girls arrived, both of them eyeing where they’d be sitting. They settled on a spot between two second years and a few people from the upper years, plopping down in the seats. 

[y/n] couldn’t help by feel nauseous as she cradled the sweatshirt in her lap, glancing up and down the table for the boy that was most likely obliviously responsible for making her regret every advance she’d ever made on him. 

Evie looked over at her poor friend, reaching over and rubbing her back softly to try and sooth the obvious nervous knot that had tied itself in her stomach, “It’s okay. Things will work out just fine.” 

Evie had her downfalls as a friend, insisting that [y/n] be bolder and more direct with the way she carried herself day to day, but when it came down to it she loved her friends dearly and would put them above anything else. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] muttered, poking the french toast around on her plate. 

The two finished their food quickly, [y/n] not taking much time at all as she had chosen not to eat very much anyway. As they made their way out to go spend some free time before their first class of the day, the same mop of fiery red hair made its appearance. 

“Hey [y/n], Evie, how’re you on this fine morning,” Fred smiled, stopping in his tracks as his brother George and their pal Seamus continued on their way to secure spots at the table.

“Just fine thank you Fred,” Evie smiled softly, “I was actually heading to the library to study before my potions exam, so I’ll leave you and [y/n] to it,” she gave [y/n]’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before heading off. 

“Good morning [y/n],” Fred chirped, a nervous edge to his voice as he stared down at [y/n]. 

“Good morning Fred,” [y/n] smiled halfheartedly, rocking back and forth on her heels as she worked up the courage to confirm her supposed rejection. 

“What’cha got there,” Fred quipped, pointing to the object clutched in [y/n]’s hands behind her back, “you’re not hiding things from me now, are ya?” 

“Not at all,” [y/n] chuckled sadly, “It’s, uhm, it’s actually your hoodie,” she held it out in front of her, refusing to make direct eye contact with Fred. 

Fred’s face fell, not even trying to hide his disappointment at this sudden turn of events, “Oh,” he reached forward and took it from her. 

“I figured you’d probably want it back, and I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, cause y’know were not, like dating, or anything. And you probably wanted it back anyway, it was stupid of me to take it in the first place,” She started to ramble, heart wrenching at the absolutely broken expression Fred was giving her right then, her mind screaming abort as she wished she could have just taken everything back right then and there. 

“I get it,” Fred muttered, his words clipped short, “Thanks for the hoodie back.” 

Without another word Fred turned on his heel and walked into the Great Hall, leaving behind a cracked [y/n] and blanket of regret. [y/n] started choking up, swiveling around and sprinting to her dormitory, her robes billowing behind her. 

What had she done?

***

The next week had passed by painfully slow. Each day felt like a stab to the gut, the blade being turned deeper and deeper into the wound. [y/n] was miserable, no matter what he friends tries, she was a lost cause, sucked into her own regret. Evie did everything in her power to get [y/n] to warm up again, but she knew it was no particular use. 

Fred had chosen to give [y/n] the silent treatment, even going as far as to avoid her in the halls, common room, quidditch field, you name it. That week had absolutely broken the two of them. [y/n]  had never been so upset over a guy before, that it was exhausting for her to even focus on anything else but the sour taste in her mouth. Fred wasn’t taking it well either, his brother having to practically drag him out of bed for quidditch practice.

This week had a rapidly approaching quidditch match, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw, and the prospects were not looking too well on Gryffindor’s side. Students had taken to relaxing a bit as they slowed down school work to let the quidditch players prep and the other students rest. 

Evie had to go to breakfast herself the morning before the quidditch math as [y/n] had opted to sleep in as she had two free periods that morning. [y/n] wanted to curl up and cry more than anything, the locket she’d lent Fred swinging beneath her shut eyelids almost taunting her. She knew prospects were looking grim for their victory, Oliver Wood would have a breakdown nearly every other day leading up to the match, and she could only wonder how Fred was taking the teams fruitless practices. 

Fred, on the other hand, spent that morning curled up in the common rooms, toying with the locket as he stared out the windows towards the field he’d be playing on later that day. He felt sick to his stomach, his good luck charm feeling less than lucky that day. More than anything, he wondered what he’d done to get her to be so repulsed by his advance, his eyes watering at the notion that she’d done nothing more than respond to him in a friendly manner that he’d just selfishly misinterpreted. 

The quidditch match had finally arrived, the team stalking out of the common room as the other students sat in lackluster enthusiasm, a few of the upper years demanding they show at least a little spirit to hype the team. It was a wasted effort, but the stand still vibrated with anticipation nonetheless. 

The match came and went and it was painful to watch to say the least. Gryffindor did so poorly it was as if you were watching a completely different team. Students left the stands that afternoon, solemn and sad, totally bummed at the outcome. 

[y/n] got caught in the current and ended up at the back of the pack as they filed out of the stands, her hands tucked in her pockets to keep them warm from the cool breeze. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and felt a pang in her chest as she recalled just how cozy she’d felt in Fred’s hoodie. Cursing under her breath, she descended the steps, lost in her own mind, completely overlooking the quidditch team that appeared behind her. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see a mop of red hair, but quickly calmed down when she realized it was the other twin, “Hey George,” She muttered sympathetically. 

“Hey [y/n],” He smiled weakly, obviously torn down by the loss. 

“Sorry for the loss. We’re proud of you guys either way,” She reassured him, reaching over and squeezing him in a side hug. 

He leaned into her and smiled softly, “Thank you. I appreciate the consolation. But, uh, I think Fred needs it more,” he nodded his head backwards towards the back of the group, Fred hanging his head low with his brows furrowed painfully close.

[y/n] was taken aback, but swallowed her pride nonetheless and nodded understandingly, excusing herself as she carefully pushed through the crowd, until she ended up at the back.

“Hey,” she whispered, clutching her hands in front of her. 

Fred looked up, his face wet with tears, quickly wiping them off with the back of his hand as he realized who he was talking to, “[y/n]? I thought you already went in?” 

“Nope, got caught up in the surge,” she chuckled. 

“Oh,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” she chewed on her bottom lip, concluding on her choice of words, “can we talk?” 

Fred wanted nothing more than to say no and run away, his heart wrenching at the inevitable conversation they were going to have where she turned him down gently in that smooth voice she always used when she wanted to be empathetic, but he knew it was unavoidable, “Sure.”

The two broke off from the crowd and settled in a small study room, a hall or two away from the boys changing room where he’d deposited his broom and helmet. They sat on one of the couches that was pushed against the wall, [y/n] with her knees facing Fred who’d rigidly sat facing forward. 

“I’m sorry about the-,”  [y/n] began, only to be cut off. 

“I know you’re here to reject me and I’m sorry I if I ever made you uncomfortable with my advances, it was never my intention to make you feel bad, so you don’t have to say anything or pity me because it’s fine, I should have know from the beginning, and quite frankly-,” Fred began to ramble, all his feelings tumbling out at once, his filter failing him. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Slow down darling, that wasn’t even where I was going to start,” she backtracked, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers, “I was going to say sorry for the game. I was going to build up to that, but, what do you mean I’m here to reject you?” 

Fred finally looked up from his lap and over at her, his face starting to flame a bright red, “oh, I’m sorry.” His eyes started to well up and he exhaled deeply, trying to blink the tears back, but ultimately failing. 

“Oh, come here darling,” she cooed, pulling him to her as he cried into her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly to his chest. 

They sat like that for a while, Fred dumping all his bottled up emotions into [y/n]’s shoulder while she rubbed gentle circles into his back. Her hand traced up and rubbed at the nape of his neck, fluffing up the curls that lay there. When it seemed like he’d finally gained some composure, she pulled back, sliding her hands up to cup his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry I ignored you for so long,” He whispered, grasping her wrists ever so softly as she thumbed away the lingering tears on his cheek. 

“And I’m sorry I did too,” She muttered, frowning slightly, “I never thought your advances were uncomfortable. I relished them, actually,” she chuckled awkwardly, biting back her own tears now, “I returned the hoodie and said those shitty things because I didn’t know what to do when you looked at me like that. I thought “there was no way he likes me that much” and I convinced myself I was right.” 

She dropped her hands and started rubbing furiously at her eyes, the pent up emotions finally shoving their way out. Fred pulled her close once more, pressing her head into his chest as she cried into his shirt, his hand caressing her hair reassuringly. 

“I ignored you because I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Fred confessed as she calmed down, “I liked you so much that the thought of you not wanting anything more hurt more than anything. I couldn’t fathom how stupid I’d been, because I didn’t want to. And when you said those things it was like the final nail in the coffin, I realized I had to come to terms with your rejection.” 

“You like me?” [y/n] muttered, looking up at him, somehow in awe. 

“Have I not made that clear enough yet?” Fred chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head, “we’re hopeless. Absolutely and completely hopeless.”

She broke into laughter as he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the couch with him, a shrill giggle leaving her lips as she fell along with him, pressed to his chest.

“Evie was right, I am an idiot,” [y/n] sighed, pushing herself up so she was eye level with Fred. 

“The most idiotic, idiot I know,” Fred concurred, giggling when she gave him an offended look, “Okay maybe not the most idiotic.” 

“You’re impossible,” she huffed, glancing away from him. 

“And you’re infuriating,” Fred muttered, grabbing her chin gently and turning her to face him. 

She watched in silence as he thumbed over her lips, still wet from the tears that had fallen down her face moments ago. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“I though you’d never ask,” she breathed a sigh of relief, leaning down and connecting their lips. 

It was salty and slow, both of them moving in tandem to bandage one another’s bruised hearts. She caressed the sides of his face lovingly, curling her fingers in his mess of fiery red hair while he pressed her as close as he could, flattening his hands against the curve of her back.

They pulled apart for a moment, both smiling softly, reeling in the moment.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that,” Fred confessed, breathing a sigh of satisfaction. 

“Guess that makes two of us,” [y/n] grinned. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Fred quipped, excitement getting the best of him. 

“You don’t even have to ask,” [y/n] replied, pressing her lips to his once more. 

[chuckbass-love]

Hi lovely, I’d love to request a Loki x Male Reader writing if you’re up for it! One where Loki reads the reader’s mind and finds out that he’s attracted to him and that he has a kink for his long hair. So, before making any moves to get with the reader Loki uses magic on his hair to make it even more beautiful and much longer in order to tease the reader. This might range on the “weirder” sides of requests but honestly I’m a sucker for a pretty man with pretty hair haha. But if you don’t feel inspired by or comfortable writing this then obviously no hard feelings! I’ll enjoy anything you come out with in the future! 💚💚💚

Hey. Thank you so much for this request i am in love with it. I was more than happy to do this for you.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Male!Reader

Warnings: Fluff central and a sprinkle of cheekiness from the man himself because let’s face it he is evil but in the best way.

Word Count: 1,970

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @0goddammitloki go check them out ❤️

Just Like Magic

If there is one thing people should know about you is that you’re not captivated or taken easily. Especially when it comes to crushes. But with Loki. There was an instant attraction, on both parts.

Not that either of you have ever done anything about it though. It’s a known fact to you both that feelings are there and Loki has pretty much made it his mission to tease you every time you’re around him. 

The one thing he doesn’t know though, is the effect his long black hair has on you. The way you fantasise about running your fingers through it, about pulling on it when things get heated. But that will never happen. He’s too complicated for commitment apparently.

You make your way over to a café, you made plans with him for lunch today. He was desperate to get away from his family and you were more than happy to be his distraction. Despite it not being in the way you imagine. It’s still something. 

As you take your seat, you pull your book out, a classic. Romeo and Juliet, if you’re going to wait for him, you might as well do some reading. Feed the brain and all that business. 

“Always got a book in your hands” you hear, moving the book down slightly and just showing your eyes. It’s him.

“Always late”

“Touché” 

He takes his seat, glancing over the menu whilst you return the book to your bag before doing the same. Once you’ve come to the conclusion of what you want, you order. Plus drinks too, of course.

“So, what is it you’re reading this time then?” he asks, showing as much enthusiasm and interest as he usually does. He always likes to keep up with you and what you’re doing.

“Romeo and Juliet” you smirk, knowing exactly what he’s about to say to you, you’ve heard it a thousand times before.

He runs his fingers through his silky smooth locks as he opens his mouth to respond “again? how many times is that now?” 

You just roll your eyes at him, refusing to answer. But the truth is, you’ve lost count. You can’t help it, you love what you love. Being a hopeless romantic is incurable, not that you would try to cure it if you had the chance.

“Let’s just eat, shall we?” you raise a brow at him and he does as you suggest, digging into his food instantly, as do you.

During lunch, you ask him about the latest with his family. He tells you all about Odin favouring Thor again. 

You can’t help but feel bad for him. He’s always tossed aside, like he doesn’t mean anything. You wish you could help that, rectify it but you can’t. All you can do is be there when he needs to talk. You still remain the only person in his life that he can open up to. That’s saying something, right?

He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear whilst flicking another strand out of his face. That hair is your literal weakness. 

It’s something you simply cannot explain. But it does things. Things that you could never repeat out loud. 

Especially not to him. 

But little do you know, Loki can hear everything inside that pretty little head of yours as he watches you eat. The way you’re sitting back into the chair, one leg over the other. So well put together, so graceful but your thoughts are far from it.

In fact, he’s known about your dirty fantasies for a while but he chooses not to say a word. Mostly due to the fact that he wouldn’t know how to bring it up but also because he would never want to embarrass you. He cares for you. 

Deeply in fact.

So he waits around for the perfect timing to say something in the best way he can. 

Whilst he waits, intruding on your thoughts. You think some more. 

About all the ways his hair turns you on, all the ways it could come in handy in the bedroom. 

His lips curl up into a satisfied smile, catching your attention.

“What’s that smile for?” you ask, kicking his leg gently.

“Oh, nothing really” 

Something tells you, that’s a lie “no, it’s clearly something? Tell me”

He just shakes his head, denying you the pleasure of the reason behind his smile. You just pout, hoping it’ll help but it doesn’t. Unlucky. You finish eating and both stand up ready to say goodbye and part ways. He pulls you into a hug, making you feel small compared to him. He’s so much taller.

“Same time tomorrow?” 

“How about we have lunch at my place?” you suggest, nervously gritting your teeth and awaiting his response.

“Sure” he agrees before turning on his heels and walking away. You feel weak in your knees as you rush back home. Time to continue reading. 

Loki gets home and as he stands in his mirror, brushing his hair. He’s reminded of your thoughts, the way you were practically drooling just looking at his hair. 

The way you were flustered. 

What if he could intensify that? Have you begging to touch it, feel it in your hands. 

Wait. He knows a way that he can make that a possibility. 

He racks his brain for a couple second before remembering a spell. 

Once he gets it mastered, he puts the spell into place, on his hair. Causing it to grow a couple more inches, it’s now just to his chest. Not much longer, but a noticeable change. One you’re sure to love. Just what he wants. 

He cannot wait for tomorrow now. This should do the trick intended.

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

You rush around, tidying after yourself and the mess you made yesterday after lunch. You don’t want Loki coming in to a mess. Not that he’d judge.

The second you finish, there’s a knock at the door, making you jump out of your skin. You pass the mirror on the way to the door and you check yourself out before opening up to reveal the man himself.

“Afternoon” he grins, stepping in and waiting for you to lead him to the kitchen where all the food waits. As he takes his seat, you glance at his hair, it’s longer. Sexier somehow. You don’t recall it being that long yesterday. 

How does he do that? How does he have you so captivated? Not even just because of his hair. But because of how he carries himself, how he speaks, how he walks. Everything about him draws you in.

“You okay?” he asks, a smug tone in his voice, on purpose. He can hear your thoughts once again. The spell is definitely paying off. Nows the time.

“So you like my hair then”

You almost choke on your water, looking up, your eyes meeting his “what?” you ask, wanting to know if what you heard was correct.

“My hair? You like it, don’t you?” 

You feel your cheeks heating up, the panic filling you. You can’t deny it.

“I do, why?” play it cool Y/N.

“Why do you like it?”

You widen your eyes, standing up to bring some more food to the table and filling your plate “it’s just really nice”.

He chuckles, clearly not accepting your answer.

“So you don’t wish you could touch it? Tug on it in let’s just say, intimate situations” 

Okay, now you’re mortified. 

What could possibly give him that impression? How does he know that? 

“Have you been reading my diary? How could you possibly know that” you blurt out, regretting it right away and covering your mouth with your hands.

He gets up from the table “your diary?” he asks, walking past you and into the next room where he spies a book on the coffee table. He wastes no time in picking it up, all whilst you’re trying to retrieve it. 

He starts reading it out loud.

“Dear diary,

What am i to do about this? 

What am i to do about Loki? That man has all this power over me and i’m struggling to be mute about my feelings, about the things i want to do to him”

You jump up, screaming at him to give it back but he just holds it higher. Not letting up.

“Loki, stop. Please” 

He brings it back down to your reach but before you can even take it, he pulls it behind his back “not so fast. When were you planning to tell me all of this? What sort of things were you talking about?”

“That’s private”

“It’s about me pretty boy, i think if it concerns me then i have a right to know”

You gulp, twiddling your thumbs as you avoid his gaze.

“I just meant that um, if there was ever a situation where um, we would kiss. That your hair, would be great to tug on. I’m sorry, i’m so embarra-”

Before you can finish the sentence, his lips are on yours. The last result you anticipated. But boy is it just how you imagined it to be. Actually no, that’s a lie. It’s a million times better. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, he drops the diary to the floor and his hands grip your face. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. Like it was always meant to be. 

You break away, your hands find purchase on his chest, your pinky fingers touching his hair.

And that’s when your whole body shivers. His forehead rests to yours, his breath fans your face.

“That certainly took a different turn” you let out a deep breath.

He seconds that “a turn that is most welcome” 

He pecks your lips once more “why didn’t you tell me about all of this pretty boy?” 

The name turns you on.

“Nerves mostly, not wanting to ruin the friendship and besides you made it clear you weren’t ready for anything” you explain

“But for you, that would have changed”

“Am i dreaming right now? Pinch me please” 

He can’t help himself, his right hand glides down to the spot just above your ass. He takes his finger and thumb, doing as you asked and making you squeal. 

“I’m sorry, was you not serious?”

You shove him playfully and attempting to walk away, not so fast though.

He pulls you back, attacking your lips in a less than family friendly way. More of a make out session.

A lip biting, tongue battling kiss. All consuming and breath stealing. 

The kind of kiss that everyone dreams of having with their crush. The kind of kiss that just like in the movies and books, leaves you seeing fireworks or stars. 

The way his lips move with yours, so effortlessly and so soft against each other. 

His hand remains on your lower back while the other still cups your face. You lean into him as a whisper like moan fills his mouth, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands finally get to run through his hair. And boy does it feel good to tug at it too, pulling him deeper into the kiss, if that’s even possible.

This is everything you could have wanted.

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

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[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt37

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev​

AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

“I would like to formally request that you train me to fight.” Tris looked up in confusion to find Kagami standing in her doorway. The girl seemed serious and she didn’t usually make jokes; it was one of the reasons Tris actually liked her. At the same time, it didn’t really make sense.

“You’re being trained in fencing and two forms of martial arts. I’m sure your skill is already adequate.” Kagami’s hand twitched slightly towards her neck and Tris realized what brought this on. They’d been attacked, almost two weeks ago, and Kagami hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight. “You were caught off guard, training how to fight and reacting to real life situations can be very different things.” The girl just scowled at her.

“You were caught off guard as well yet while I was useless and couldn’t even defend myself you knocked out both attackers and saved me.” Tris sighed as she tried to come up with an explanation that wasn’t the truth. Partially because it would be safer for Kagami if she didn’t know but also because she didn’t want another person here acting like she was a bomb ready to go off. Adrien and Chloe both tried to hide it but ever since Brazil they’d been treating her differently. Whenever The Angel of Death was mentioned in the news they’d be whispering in corners and walking on eggshells for days after and this had been going on for close to four months now. Tris didn’t want to admit it, but it was driving her insane. She now had an almost constant urge to sneak up behind one or both of them and shout ‘Boo!” and she had no idea where the impulse was coming from.

“You know how I told you that Chloe used to bully me?” Kagami nodded and Tris decided half truths were her best option. “Well there were a lot of people that used to bully me, and many of them were a lot more physical. I learned to fight by being attacked and I learned to survive by being able to find and utilize my opponents weaknesses quickly. It’s not about being well trained or knowing the proper forms. It’s about seeing an opening and taking it no matter what it is and no matter what you have to do.” That was true enough. In the league Talia had believed in a trial by fire method of training for her. Just like that first fight with Damian she’d always just been thrown into situations and forced to react.

“That does not seem… fair.” Tris actually snorted with derision and Kagami eyed her warily. “I just mean that it doesn’t seem very sporting.”

“There are no rules in real life. All that matters is doing what it takes to survive. Honor is meaningless to the dead.” Kagami just stood there frowning at the floor and Tris waited for another lecture. She didn’t get one.

“Then I want you to teach me that.”

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

That was how they ended up in the lobby of the Grand Paris the next weekend. Tris was trying to teach Kagami how to spot physical infirmities and weaknesses to exploit by pointing out different gaits or even the way a person held themselves. Luka, Adrien, and Chloe had all decided to tag along but she wasn’t sure why. When she asked they just said the two of them shouldn’t be left alone together.

Tris was in the middle of pointing out a gentleman who had obviously suffered a recent back sprain when the boy next to him drew her attention. The smug, superior way he held himself, the walk that said ‘get out of my way or I’ll go through you’, the way he seemed to look down on everyone and everything around him… she knew that pose. She knew that boy. Before she was even aware of her intentions she was stalking over to the duo as the others called after her. As she got closer he turned to look at her with that same haughty expression and she felt rage consume her. His expression showed recognition and shock for only a moment before her fist made contact with his nose. Her knee went to his stomach a moment later and he was on the floor.

“You’re supposed to be dead!” She only vaguely realized she was screaming at him in Arabic, too consumed by fear, anger, and pain to process much else. She watched as Damian rose from the floor and glared at her.

“I was.” That was it. Tris felt the sneer on her face but didn’t have time to wonder at the uncharacteristic reaction.

“I should have known you’d follow in your grandfather’s footsteps. I’ll only say this once so I suggest you listen. If you, your mother, or any of the degenerates who still follow you try to come after me they will be finding pieces of you for decades. And don’t think for a second that you know me or my skills well enough to stop me.” His expression flashed to annoyance for just a moment but it was enough for her to prepare. When his hand shot out to grab her neck he only caught air as she stepped in to trip him. She had to fight down a smug smile at his obvious confusion when she pinned him to the floor. “I know your fighting style better than you do al Ghul. Consider this a warning.”

“M. Wayne I am so sorry! Chloe get this hoodlum out of here!” Tris was finally brought back to her surroundings by the Mayor’s voice. Shit. What had she just done? Damian hadn’t even seen her, let alone figured out who she was, what the hell had possessed her to out herself like this? When she released him, Damian just got up and dusted himself off.

“It’s fine Sir. We’re old friends, though I’m sure it was a strange greeting to witness.” Damian never took his eyes off her as he spoke and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. The boy was still bleeding from her first punch and he expected that to explain things.

“Oh well… if that’s all then… are you sure you don’t want me to at least call the Police to file a report?” The man he was with must be extremely wealthy for the Mayor to be falling over himself like this. What had he called him.. Wayne? She finally looked at the man’s face and realized exactly how screwed she was. How could Talia possibly have formed an alliance with the owner of Wayne Enterprises? With those resources at her disposal there was no telling what she was capable of.

“Everything is perfectly alright Mayor. My son is simply a little rambunctious; it’s nice to see someone who can take him down a peg or two.” Son? Only her luck could possibly be this bad. He switched to Arabic to address her. “I’d very much like to continue this discussion. Perhaps in private?”

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[readerinsertfanfiction]

pfFFFTT, I can make a river with these tears. Lemme get a little buzzed first. 😂😂😂 Also, can I request an ichigo x reader fluff? 🥺🥺🥺 because I’m still crying a little LOL

A constant stream of fresh water. I’m for it, I do like to wash everyday! 😂

I suppose some Ichigo fluff is only fair. I was looking back at my Bleach works the other day and I realised that most of them are all angst. LOL **insert Marge telling the kids to brighten up**

Fandom: Bleach

Character: Ichigo Kurosaki

Prompt: Some fluff to bleach out the angst (getit? **shot**)

Who would have thought that Ichigo treated love like a battlefield? The man didn’t think of chances, or probabilities. Nor did he think of duties or roles. Ichigo simply didn’t care for any of the traditions and the frivolities that came with courtship, nor did he think of sweet words and small gifts that he didn’t mean. No, as normal as he pretended to be Ichigo was an intense man and he was in love.

His confession had been straightforward, like the drawing of his sword. An: “I like you, [Name]. I really like you,” and that had been his declaration of his emotions, followed with a, “will you allow me to pursue you?”

You really didn’t have the heart to reject such a declaration. Not that you would have anyway, for the feelings were returned. Though, that was only clarified much later, much, much later for you weren’t as sure and straightforward about your feelings as he was.

Of course there were moments where Ichigo felt shame, or grew shy and retreated. For all his bravado and zeal he was after all a normal teenager. One with his own insecurities and inner battles, but one that came through them all the same.

“Stop hounding me already, geez,” he yelled at his friends, each one of them mischievously eyeing him, hands grabbing hold of his shoulders. “It is just a date, chill!” he screamed, but felt himself being muffled away as he was put into something more handsome than a t-shirt and jeans.

“A tad overdressed, but very handsome,” you would grin later as he appeared in a suit at the cinema. A suit and a bouquet of flowers he had already prepared for you (cue to another chatter of giggles from his friends when they found out).

“Well, yeah, they overdid it and I hate it,” the male honestly responded, a blush dusking his face as he side-eyed your happy countenance.

He didn’t really, nothing that could make you look this delighted could be hated, he found and Ichigo felt his heart jump a little. How he wanted to protect that smile of yours.

“Has [Name] ever told you: ‘I like you’?” Keigo one day asked out of the blue. His lips pursed as he thought and combered his mind.

This earned a choked response and a near hit to the face from the orange haired teen, a shocked expression over his face as Ichigo thought about it carefully.

“I guess not?” he shrugged, rather casually.

This shocked his friends even more, jaws dropping and eyes widening as they stared at their friend, disbelief drawing over their faces at how easily Ichigo shrugged it off.

“Aren’t you dating?” Mizuiro carefully tried, to which Ichigo shrugged in response once more.

“I guess so? Not sure actually. I only asked [Name] if I could pursue them,” Ichigo stated matter-of-factly. As if it hadn’t occurred to him how unusual the situation was.

In hindsight none of his friends could say that this was unexpected or unusual for him. Ichigo was by no means an idiot, but his sharp moments were lost in the smallest of things. It was exemplary of his character. He didn’t need you to tell him what you felt yet, as long as you were comfortable with what the two of you had. As long as you knew what he felt. The rest would follow. 

Ichigo was patient on a lot of things and with you he believed he could wait until the world ended and beyond.

“Hey Ichigo?” you spoke up one good day after another date. This time the substitute soul reaper did get to wear his jeans and t-shirt, spending the day at the leisure with you in the park and in the cafe.

The male hummed, his face turning towards you in curiosity as he wondered what it was. You had been acting strange the whole day, skittish, nervous, the male had let it go, hoping that the date would relax you, but as the end neared he started to worry.

“You know I like you, right?”

The question lingered in the air for a moment. Ichigo looked dumbfounded for a moment, then collected himself as a grin appeared on his face, a look of victory crossing his expressions as he took your hand in his.

“Now I do,” he exclaimed and for a moment you thought of him as too composed.

The gentle squeeze of your hand suggested otherwise. Ichigo was positively brimming.

[cosmojaem]

Jack of all Trades [l.mk]

Summary: After saving an unknown and injured man from dying. All of a sudden, you’re under the protection of one of Seoul’s notorious mafia.

Genre: mafia!au, strangers-to-lovers!au, angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, smoking, language, implied sexual content 

Pairing: Mark Lee x f!reader

Word count: 7.4k

You have never been more relieved to go home after a long, gruelling day at your job. You’ve worked for a cafe for a while as a part time job, then became a full time thing after you’ve graduated to earn a little more cash to support yourself. After all, earning money is not easy. 

During one of your breaks, you instantly remembered that the results for the Nursing Licensure exams are bound to be released today. Without missing a beat, you immediately pulled out your phone, a notification popped up the moment you typed in your passcode.

LOCAL MAFIA WRECKS HAVOC, POLICE ADVICE CIVILIANS TO STAY INSIDE:

Kim Sohye | May 4, 2020 12:29 

You cleared the notification after and decided to read the article later. Crime is pretty high nowadays but you can confidently say that you live in a safe neighborhood because you've been walking home alone despite these happenings. 

Refreshing the site for the result, your fingers typing your exam number rapidly. How you wanted to cry at that very moment. Luckily, you can still do a retake, but you have to wait for 45 days for the next exam which gives you more time to prepare.

As you neared your apartment, you fished out your keys from your pocket. As soon as you approached the door, you got startled by a body of a man lying in front. The man wheezed, forcing his body to stand up. Your instincts were yelling at you, telling you that this might be a red flag and he’s going to murder you.

 But when you saw his badly injured body, you knew you had to help him.

“S-sir, I don’t think you should stand up. You’re badly injured.” You said, running towards his body and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Leave me alone.” He commanded whilst removing your hand from his shoulder then let out a hiss.

“Don’t!” He replied immediately, shooting what seems to be like a sharp look but his pained expression betrayed him. “Just don’t take me to the hospital.”

You were confused,  but eventually agreed to his odd request, “Alright, at least let me patch you up. Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” he waved you off, attempting to stand up with the little strength that he had but eventually hissed at the pain from his knee. Even with his groaning and hissing, he refused to tell you he needed help.

Rolling your eyes at his stubbornness, you helped him up while opening the door to your apartment then walked inside and laid him on your couch. You opened the lamp near your couch to see his injuries.

“I’ll be right back, don’t even think about getting up.” You told him sternly before turning your back to fetch your supplies.

You returned with all the things you need, setting them down on the floor and kneeling down after. Attempting to take his shirt off to have a better look at his injuries was more difficult than you thought as he was flinching when you touched his arms.

“How much do you like this shirt?” You asked, grabbing the scissor from your supplies in hopes of making things easy for the both of you by cutting his shirt. A pained hiss draws from his lips, “Not that much”

After doing what must be done, you grimaced once you had a better look at the bruises, cuts and blood that littered his body and took a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic to clean his wounds. After almost 30 minutes of cleaning and dressing his wounds, you also stitched the deep cut he had by his abdomen. 

When you finished up, you cleaned up all the blood soaked cotton pad and the things you used.

He whispered, “Thank you.”

“No problem, I never got your name. Can’t keep calling you ‘hey’ and ‘sir’ all time, can we? Mine’s (y/n).” You earned a low chuckles from your response. He seems fairly amused, “It’s Mark.”

“Well Mark, you’ve sustained a lot of injuries that needs healing so I suggest you stay here for the meantime since I’ll need to remove that stitch that I made.”

“What?!” He exclaimed loudly. You swear, your neighbors will be complaining the next morning by how loud he shouted. “Fuck, I can’t do that! I have to go, thanks for patching me up.”

Mark attempted to stand up from his state, only for him to let a pained groan which makes your statement correct. You shake your head at his stubbornness, “I told you. Now, stop being a stubborn ass and sit down or you’ll open up your stitches.”

Eventually, giving up all his attempts of moving, he decided to just lay down there. You turned back from him to return your things and heat some dinner because you were starving from all the work you did. As you returned your things and went to the kitchen, you heard a faint voice, specifically Mark’s voice talking through the phone in a hushed tone. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop at their conversation but all you heard was ‘base’, ‘Hyuck’ and another guy’s name you forgot. 

Once you heard him end the call, you immediately shuffled to the fridge as if nothing happened.

“Uh (y/n)?” He called from the living room. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“S-sure, just a sec!” You stuttered as you hurriedly grabbed the leftovers and the pitcher of water. You poured him water then went back to the living room with two plates in your arm.

“Here.” You placed his glass of water then set down the plates before running back to the kitchen to get the leftovers. “I’ll be right back.”

Mark reached for his glass before gulping down its contents, he surveyed your apartment. It was normal, a few frames here and there along with furniture and some decorations. Squinting his eyes, trying to take a closer look to the diploma hanging on your wall.

‘(l/n) (y/n), Bachelor Science in Nursing’

That explained a lot with the amount of medical supplies that you have. Normal civilians don’t have stitches for wounds, right? He fumbled in his pocket for his phone then sent a text to Renjun. Hearing light padding of footsteps, he put his phone back in his pocket then watched you place the food in front of you two.

“Sorry, it’s nothing much,” you said sheepishly then looked up to him. “Go ahead and eat.”

Placing his portion of the food on his plate then added rice, handing him his utensil also. After giving his share, you went ahead to get your shared portion and both of you ate in complete silence. Hearing only the sounds of clanks from the utensils and plate, Mark decided to break the ice with a cough.

“So...” he trailed, which earned him a quiet hum from you. “You’re a nurse, huh?”

He immediately noticed that you looked at him hesitantly before opening your mouth to speak, “Not really. I failed the licensure exam so technically, I’m not a ‘nurse’ yet.”

“Technically, you are one. Just not one in practice.” You flashed a small smile at him before going back to finish your meal.

“So what do you do for a living, Mark?” You asked then you saw him visibly flinched at your question. “Are your bruises hurting again?”

Uneasiness crossed his face which was weird since you only asked what he does for a job but you shrugged it off instead. You were a stranger to him after all.

“Um yeah, they kinda are.” He admitted which made you stand up to get an ice pack then let out a sigh of relief that he was able to avoid the question.

You went back with an ice pack in hand, giving it to him so he can ice his bruises. Mark mumbled out a small ‘thank you’ before applying the ice on his bruises, hissing at the cold temperature. Picking up the plates then head back to the kitchen to wash and clean up. Once you finished, you dried your hands and got a fresh batch of extra bedsheets and pillows and set it beside the couch.

“You will sleep on the bed since it’s much more comfortable there than here.” You said to Mark as you set up the books you’ll be reading.

“How about you?” Mark asked

“I’ll sleep on the couch, don’t worry about me! You take the bed.” Convincing him which earned a sigh from him, you helped him up to your room then gently had him sit up to your bed.

“I’ll leave the door open so holler if you need anything, Mark.”

“Thank you for this, you didn’t have to but thanks. I’ll pay you back sometime.” Mark said before tucking himself in.

You turned off the lights then went back to the living room to do your usual reading before going back to bed. It was around 3 am when you were awakened by a sound of screaming, immediately getting up and going inside the room to find Mark panting and sweating. 

“What happened?”

“Did I — I'm sorry, did I wake you up, (y/n)? Sorry about that, you can go back to sleep.” Mark said as you were about to turn your back, he let out a small whimper. Hesitation floods his eyes, “A-actually, can you stay?”

You were taken aback by his sudden request as he only ever showed that he was a tough and stubborn person altogether from your interactions from before. You contemplated for a bit then answered, “Sure, I’ll just grab the sheets and put my makeshift bedding here.”

You returned to the living room to get the bedsheets and pillow, setting them down on the floor beside the bed then tucked yourself in, drifting to deep sleep.

Mark woke up from the light blaring from the side of the curtain. He stretched his arms then felt that he was holding something, only to see your blanket in his hands. He looked down on the floor but you weren’t there. Gripping on the sides of your bed to support himself, pain jolting across his body then slowly got up to sit. You entered the room a few moments later, clad in your underwear.

Feeling someone was burning holes in your skin, you looked up to see Mark staring at you in shock before looking away quickly. Immediately realizing the situation, you hurriedly went to grab your clothes and ran out of the room without.

That was something. He thought, shaking his head to cool his warm cheek.

It took you a while to forget the incident that happened earlier, you cursed at yourself for forgetting that you’re not alone. Living alone has its perks and walking around in your underwear without anyone seeing is one of them but you can’t do that anymore since you have company now. You left earlier, telling him you had to go to work now and will be back in the evening.

“So you’re telling me, you’re stuck in there for days?” Hyuck said from the other line, trying his best not to laugh at Mark but failed miserably. The latter sighed, “I just said that, Hyuck. How’s everything there?”

“Chaotic as usual, here in the base. I had to stop Renjun from choking Jisung earlier. Report came in, there’s someone lurking in one of our territories, will need some taking care of though.”

“I’ll be out of here in a few days, just need to have this stitch removed. For the meantime, just continue reporting as usual to me and the hyungs. Also, tell Renjun to send me his findings.” Mark instructed the younger male, earning a hum on the other end before ending the call.

His phone vibrated, opening it to see the background check on you that he asked Renjun to send him a few days ago. Shaking his head when he saw the message before the attachment.

‘Interesting candidate for a girlfriend, hyung.’

You just finished an order, calling out your customer’s name to retrieve their order then went back to the register when you heard the bell chime.

“Welcome, what would-  Mark? What the hell are you doing here?” You whispered harshly at him as he let out a sly smile at your direction. 

“I’m hungry, (y/n). There’s no food at home so I decided to grab a meal, didn’t know you worked here.” He answered nonchalantly.

You argued with clenched fists against the counter, “You’re not supposed to be walking around, you ass! I told you that!”

“Please, I’m a grown adult. I can tolerate pain, dear.”

Your manager asked while giving you a sharp look, “Is there something wrong here, sir?”

“Nothing at all. Just having a chat with (y/n), that’s all.”

You tried not to roll your eyes but you weren’t up for a lecture about customer service from your manager so with a strained smile, you took Mark’s order while attempting to ignore the burning eyes from your manager.

The following days, whenever he had the chance to go out, he sometimes drops by the cafe to eat and then stays until your shift ends, despite your violent protests. Another reason is to meet up with one of the members, mostly Hyuck for reports on what’s happening. Today was no exception. 

“Hyung.” Mark turned at the sound of the voice to see a familiar figure wearing a face mask, hiding the lower part of his face. 

He pulled his cap lower and approached the figure who was seated not far from his line of sight. 

“What did you get, Hyuck?” He asked as he sat in front of him. 

“There’s disturbance in the shipment of our cartels, we’re still looking into it but Jisung says someone is doing it on purpose. Also, I found this too.” Hyuck handed him a thick folder with twine tied around it. “You might want to take a look at it while you’re at it.” 

Untying the tightly knotted twine around the folder, he opened the folder carefully with his eyes scanning across the contents inside. His fists visibly tightened at the folder he’s holding. 

“This bastard- I killed him off a long time ago!” 

Hyuck looked at him grimly, “That’s what we thought too. Apparently, from the information that I’ve garnered… You did kill his brother, Hyun, the former boss but he had a brother that we didn’t know of until now. He’s gathered men and out for blood, hyung.” 

“He’s after me.” Mark looked at him in realization. “What else?” 

A moment of silence engulfed between them before Hyuck gives him another file out of nowhere then throwing it in front of him. 

“We also found out about his name and whereabouts; his name is Lee Seung and he’s last seen along the ports of Busan last week.” The younger male said while pointing on the picture of a man dressed in black.

His face hardened at the new information. “I need to know who he is working with and all his activities. Call everyone, we’ll be having a meeting now.” Mark commanded while he pulled out his phone.

He stood up from his seat, creating a creaking sound while he picked up the folders and placed them in his arms. After a few rings, the other line answered. 

“Hyung, it’s me. We have a problem.” 

Hyuck stood up from his seat and followed suit while sending everyone an urgent text.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, expecting to see Mark lazing on the couch but strangely, he wasn’t in the living room.

He must be sleeping. You thought as you dropped your things on the ground and went to your room to check on him, only to find an empty room. 

“Mark?” You called before you closed the door and went to the kitchen.

No answer. 

You went to the bathroom and knocked on the door, “Mark?”

Again, no answer.

You called his name numerous times but there was no answer to your calls. The house was empty, but you remembered leaving with Mark still inside. 

Did he go somewhere? But where? He’s still injured. Numerous thoughts started to run inside your head which eventually led you to think of the worst possibilities that could happen to him. Now, you regret not asking for his contact number.

Hours passed by, it was already pitch black outside. You’ve drummed your fingers against the table as you looked at the clock across you. Mark still hasn’t arrived, you’ve already searched around the neighborhood and asked your neighbors if they saw anyone come out the house but none. 

It’s already 11 pm. Where the hell is he? Your worried thoughts still are not kept at bay. 

Upon hearing the creak of your door, your train of thoughts were interrupted then heard a light padding of footsteps. When you saw Mark, you felt relieved and annoyed at the same time. 

“Where the hell did you go? Do you even know what time it is?” You asked while your voice got louder to every question. 

“Errands.” Mark replied, he tried to make his way to your room. 

“I’m not done with you!” You exclaimed out of annoyance. 

He sighed as he rubbed his temples, “Look, can we just talk about this tomorrow? I’m tired.” 

“Oh so you’re telling me you’re tired? Did you know that I went around looking for you and sat here for hours, worrying about your whereabouts! Maybe the next time I see you, you’re already dead.” 

“Thanks for the concern, (y/n) but no one asked you to do those! Who are you even? You’re not my mother! Hell, you’re only a stranger.” He argued, visibly angered that you won’t leave him alone. 

Your jaw tightened as you shot him a glare. “Atleast I have the decency to tend your injuries and shelter you! What an ungrateful brat.” 

The argument became heated and it slowly became a screaming match, insult after insult being thrown in the mix. No one would back down and lower their pride, your screaming match only ended when your neighbor shouted from their window to shut up. 

“Whatever, don’t talk to me if you’re still going to be an asshole.” You whispered harshly in his direction. 

“Fine!” He slammed the door behind him as you plopped on your couch and curled into a ball, ignoring the cold nip of air against your skin. 

The next day, the two of you gave each other the cold shoulder treatment while occasionally grumbling  incoherent curses and mumbles under your breaths. Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Busan, a man took a long drag from his cigarette from his window sill.

“Boss!” The man turned his head to the direction of the voice. “We found him.”

A devilish smirk crept on his lips, eyes gleamed with nothing but intent. Taking his cigarette close to his lips again before puffing a cloud of smoke. “Is that so? What else do you have for me?”

A folder was thrown across, he flipped into it and picked up a picture pinned into it. 

“Interesting.” He said while examining the picture then turned back to his men. “Get her. I‘d like to settle unfinished business with the Jack of all Trades.” 

A loud yawn escaped your lips as you ran your hands through your hair. You casted a quick look to your room before clicking your tongue.

Tch. As if I’ll apologize. You thought as you laid down on the couch, using your arm as a pillow before falling into deep slumber. 

Mark can’t sleep, he’s been tossing and turning but to no avail, he just couldn’t close his eyes or feel sleepy. He woke up earlier from another recurring nightmare that he has been having recently. 

I’ll go out for a while, maybe it’ll help me. 

He tossed the blanket aside and grabbed his jacket before making his way out of the room. With light footsteps, he quietly prayed that you won’t hear him going out. You stirred in your sleep which caused him to flinch, hearing mumble in your sleep then later turned into snoring. 

What a weird girl you are. He thought as he watched you snore in your sleep. With slow steps, he went to your direction and put his jacket on your shivering body before making his way outside. 

You didn’t remember sleeping with a blanket on but when you woke up, you saw a jacket that was not yours on you. Scrunching your nose as you recognized who it belongs to. Of course, it had to be him. 

Stretching your legs before making your way to the kitchen to get yourself some water. The last thing you wanted was a bread being thrown at your face, the plastic made a crinkling sound when it hit the floor. 

“What the fuck?” You snarled whole picking up the bread on the floor. “What’s your problem?” 

Mark hummed in response before biting into his food, “Well, I don’t know. Maybe if you stop acting like you have a stick up your ass then maybe, I’ll apologize. Also, you were supposed to catch that.” 

“Do you expect me to catch that? Bitch, you must be fucking stupid.” 

He heaved a sigh before ignoring what you said. You pulled a chair just across him while rolling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry. There. Happy now?” You said with a strained smile before he lets out a triumphant smirk. “Men and their stupid ego.” 

“I’ll ignore what you said but I guess, we’re good now.” 

You two continued to eat breakfast, occasionally sending jabs before you continued on with your routine of leaving for work. Fortunately, you were let out early from your shift as your boss was going to celebrate anniversary with his girlfriend so you went home immediately. 

“Can you stay still and stop moving? I’m trying to remove your stitches here.” You barked as you slowly cut the stitches, pulling out the thread slowly until there’s none left. “There, good as new.”

Mark stood up, lifting his shirt and going to the full body mirror to see a scar. From the past few days, his injuries were healed and the aching was gone, thanks to you changing the dressing of his wounds and nursing him back to health. He almost felt like a new person with the newfound strength he regained.

“Thanks (y/n), I feel a lot better now.” Mark smiled which made you return his smile. “I have to go back now.”

“Ah right.” You said, not hiding the disappointment in your tone.

Reality dawning to you, almost feeling like you have been hit by a ton of bricks. He has to go now and you’ll probably won’t see him again. It saddens you because, you’ve warmed up to him in the past few days, silence will be your company again inside this house.

“Do you really have to go?” You looked up to him with hopeful eyes, almost pleading to him.

He sighed, “Sadly, I have to. My family needs me.”

He took a few strides to you then hesitatingly placed his hand on your cheek and looked at you with a soft expression. You eyed him, engraving every feature of his in your mind; his starry eyes, cheekbones, button-like nose and lastly, his lips. You wondered was he always this handsome and felt your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“I’ll miss you, you know.” You mumbled but his ears perked up at what you said, letting out a sad smile on his lips.

“I will too.” Mark said then he leaned close, your noses almost touching. “Can I?”

You gave him a nod before he leaned closer to your face, feeling his breath fanning across your face as you leaned slowly and closed your eyes when you felt his lips touch yours. You placed your hands on his chest, your lips moving against his, slow and careful as if he was going to disappear.

The two of you pulled away, panting then he leaned on your forehead before opening his eyes to look at your flushed face.

He unclasped something from his neck, you felt a cold metal being clasped around your neck after then he looked at it then you. You looked down on your neck to see his silver cross necklace around your neck, gently cradling it in your hand.

“Just something that will remind you of me when you’re missing me.” Mark cheekily said before ruffling your hair.

Rolling your eyes then you hit his arm playfully, “As if, Mark.”

“Can you give me your phone?” He asked as you handed him your phone with visible confusion then typed in his number before handing it back to you. “Here’s my number so if you miss me or you get into trouble, you call this number.”

You both let out a joyous laugh before you two head out to the door, bumping each other’s shoulder. A comfortable silence engulfed you two as you made your way out.

“I guess, I’ll see you later then (y/n)?” He said before giving your forehead a soft peck which received a hit from a flustered (y/n).

“Yeah, see you when I see you.” He turned his back and started to walk away but stopped midway. “I’ll pay you back somehow, just you wait”

He continued to walk til his figure disappeared from your sight, you let out a loud sigh before closing the door behind you. You’re alone again, something you were used to before but not anymore. You clasped the cross on your neck, giving it a soft kiss. Days turned to weeks then months, your life returned to normal— it didn’t feel the same without Mark.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” Yves pipped from the counter while you wipe the cups clean.

You blushed, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“There’s no denying it, (y/n)~ Your face says it all.” She teased, nudging your shoulder with a knowing smile. “But have to admit, you two look cute together.”

You puffed your cheeks as you finished wiping the cups clean, shrugging off at her comment. Your eyes briefly glanced at the necklace he gave you. Looking at your wrist watch to see that your shift has ended. You went to the back to change out of your work clothes and fetch your stuff. You went out with your bag as Yves was busy typing her apron.

“I’ll be going now, Yves. I’ll leave the rest to you.” You announced as you made your way to the door.

“(Y/n)!” She called which made you stop in your tracks and turned around to look at her. “There’s a lot of criminal activity going on lately, you sure you can walk alone? Do you want me to call someone to accompany you?”

You waved off your hand at her, telling her you’re fine before you bid her goodbye again. She shot you a concerned look before slowly waving back at your direction.

Maybe you were starting to regret not listening to Yves’ warning because once you were walking towards your usual direction to your apartment, you felt heavy footsteps behind you. You didn’t think about it too much until you made a detour from your usual route which confirmed all of your suspicions of being followed. 

With your phone in your hand, you immediately tried to dial the number on your speed dial.

“Hello?” Mark answered on the other end, tears welling up from hearing his voice and also, out of fear. “Who’s this?”

“I-it’s (y/n), I need help.” You whispered through the phone. “Um… I-i think-”

Before you could even speak, your arm was immediately grabbed by someone which made you drop your phone. You tried to resist from his hold but it only got tighter as you did so. With your free arm, you pinched him with all your might on his side as he shrieked in pain, letting you go. You immediately scrambled on the pavement to retrieve your phone but both of your arms were pulled back, you cried for help which only made him let out a sinister grin.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cry for help, no one will come and save you.” He replied as he tried to stop you from wriggling in his grasp.

You stopped resisting, already too tired as you let out a sob. Tears rolled down your cheek as you silently prayed for someone to help you. The man whistled, his cronies coming out from hiding as one immediately carried you on his shoulder like a sack of rice. You thrashed around, hitting his shoulder in an attempt for him to put you down.

“Stop moving around, little bitch.” The man growled as he tightened his grip on your thigh as you let out a pained scream.

They stopped in front of a van, opening the back and quickly tied your wrists and feet together. Caressing your cheek then when his hand neared your lips, you bit his hand. Only for you to get slapped across the cheek.

“Bitch, that fucking hurts!” He screamed before crouching to get a roll of duct tape then held your cheek on one hand as he stuck it to your mouth, muffling your cries. “That’s right, be quiet.”

He slammed the door in your face, you tried to move your wrists but the rope only tugged on your skin, making it even more painful. You surveyed around to look for a sharp object but to your luck, there was none in sight. You leaned back, crying as you thought about all the horrible things these men can do.

Your ears perked up when you heard someone from the other side talking, there was another voice talking to them, a voice that seemed much younger and familiar.

“Open the goddamn door or else.” The voice threatened then an eerie silence followed.

You heard a gunshot which made you shut your eyes with a squeal. Light met your face when the door was being opened. You squint your eyes, looking up to see Mark, concern written all over his face as he climbs on board in an attempt to free you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry-” Mark puts a hand on your cheek but was interrupted when he was being thrown out of the vehicle, landing on the ground with a thud. 

Your eyes widened at what happened, your screams muffled by the stupid tape on your mouth.

After that, you heard gunshots and shouts from outside. Your heart pumped rapidly, scared of what is going to happen to Mark then next thing you saw is a younger male with sun kissed skin, breathing heavily.

“Hello (y/n), I don’t think we’ve met but let’s save the introductions for later.” The young stranger said with a small smirk. “But for now, I’ll need to get you out of here.”

He went inside of the van, pulling something from his boot then cutting you free from the ropes tied around your wrist and feet.

“This is going to hurt a lot.” He immediately removed the tape around your mouth.

You hissed at the painful sensation then shot him a narrowed look, “Goddamnit, could’ve you been more gentle? That was fucking painful.”

He rolled his eyes at your response, “Seriously? Not even a thank you? How ungrateful.”

“Thanks.”

Your ‘savior’ helped you out of the van, you saw a sea of red against the pavement with a few more men who were panting, sweat dripping down their cheeks. Your eyes met with Mark then he came running to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“M-mark?”

“Shh.. It’s alright, (y/n). You don’t have to speak.” He coaxed, rubbing the small of your back as you sobbed on his shoulder, relieved that he was here.

“I-i was so scared-”

The last thing you saw was being placed behind Mark’s back in a protective stance. Peering from his shoulder, you saw a visibly older man in a suit with more companions.

“Stay behind me, (y/n).” He instructed sternly.

“If it isn’t the Jack of all Trades, I’ve been hunting you down for years and now. Finally, finally, I have finally found you!” Seung mocked then looked behind Mark. “Oh? What’s that I see behind you?”

The moment Seung mentioned you, Mark and the others immediately pointed their guns at the person talking in front of them without hesitation. He continues, “Let’s not be too hasty, gentlemen.”

Mark immediately turned to the younger man on his left who was standing beside you. They both nodded at each other, almost like a silent agreement between them, and the last thing you heard were someone pulling the trigger of a gun.

Everything was happening too fast, the young male broke into a sprint, pulling your arm as you also sprinted with him as he occasionally turned behind him to shoot.

“Mark!” You shrieked as you two continued sprinting away from the scene.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots! Get them!” Heavy footsteps followed you two which made you two sprint faster.

Adrenaline rushing through your veins, your breath was ragged while you forced your legs to catch up with the younger boy.

“Just keep running and don’t look back, I’ll cover for you.” The younger male continued, looking behind you.

Haechan shoots with shaky hands as he tries his best not to loosen his grip on you even by a slightest. You two took shelter on a dark alley, immediately hiding behind the walls as the men chasing you two ran past you. He let out a sigh of relief then tucked his gun in the waistband of his pants.

“Name’s Haechan. You okay there, (y/n)?” He asked as you continued to wheeze, feeling a bit lightheaded from the sudden sprint.

You breathed out, obviously shaken up. “I-i’m scared, Haechan. But what’s happening, who are those men? Why are they running after us? W-what did he just call Mark? I-i’m so confused.”

He fiddled his fingers then sighed. “Those men are just cronies of a resident mafia. They’re after us, but they mostly want Mark hyung.”

“H-hold up, you’re what? How about those people from earlier?” You asked while rubbing your temples then you looked up to him in surprise. “Mark is your what again?”

Haechan’s face contorted into an amused look then he answered. “Take it easy with the questions, but yes, we’re a mafia group and Mark hyung is our leader.” 

You two sat on the floor, you hugged your knees as he leans against the wall while occasionally looking out. 

“But why was Mark called… what was that again?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to take in all the information. 

“Jack of all trades. Oh, about that… From what I know, hyung got that alias from his enemies. I don’t blame them, his smartass is too sly and skilled.” He explained. “Don’t tell him I said that or I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Many admire him but many also fear him. Killing him would mean power and glory as he has a huge bounty on his head.” 

Your eyes widened in realization, putting everything together. The injuries, the frequent outing, the calls and the way he flinched when you asked him about what he does for a living. 

You croaked out a reply, “S-skilled in what? 

Haechan hesitated before whispering his answer which startled you more than ever. “Gambling but I think you know what he’s capable of.” 

You didn’t know how to feel; you felt scared, anxious and betrayed but you remembered his ‘rough around the edge’ thoughtfulness, stubbornness of not having you change the dressings, the kiss you shared before parting and the necklace. 

“The necklace.” You mumbled as your hands clutch on the silver necklace on your neck, the cross sitting just above your chest, glinting all its glory. 

Hearing a clicking sound, you crouched behind him while he cocked his gun in his hand while eyeing the wall warily. You heard footsteps then stopped but then the footsteps turned into rhythmic stomping before Haechan came out from the wall, gesturing you to stay put. 

Ten minutes have passed since he asked you to stay put and keep quiet. You crawled from your hiding place, “Haechan?” 

Peeking from behind the wall, you saw him being tackled on the ground who is obviously in pain then there’s a tackled Mark who kept a straight face but his eyes showed how furious he is. 

“Let him go.” Mark grunted while the man cackled at him while motioning his cronie to inflict pain on the boy on the ground. 

You covered your mouth in shock, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks then a small sound slipped past your lips. Pressing a hand on your mouth, in an attempt to prevent any sound from slipping again. Unfortunately, it seemed like someone heard your slip and now, you’re being thrown across the ground. 

“Look who we have here.” The man’s hand went to your chin, forcing you up and lifting your face for everyone to see as you struggled from his grip. “If it isn’t your precious brat.”

His eyes widened when he looked at you and whispered, “N-no.” 

 “Such a waste that I’d have to put a bullet in her pretty head.” 

Feeling a cold metal press against the side of your forehead, hearing a click which made you gulp from your position. 

“What’s all the crack about the Jack of all Trades? I thought you’re more powerful than that, huh? You’re making me laugh, kid! That’s all you got?” He said before letting out an ugly cackle. 

Mark looked at you before his lips quirked into a sly smile then returned his gaze to Seung with the same smile, irking the said man as he pressed the gun closer to your temple. 

“I’d watch what you’re saying if I were you, Lee Seung.” He said and soon, bullets rained down and Seung’s cronies fell down on the ground immediately. 

Seung looked startled when he realized what’s happening. Without missing a beat, he snapped out of his gaze and forced you to stand up with a gun behind your head.  “Up on your feet!”  

Mark and Haechan pushed the dead bodies, grunting at their weight before chasing after Seung and the captive. Mark pulled out his gun, aiming it at Seung’s direction before pulling the trigger. An ear piercing scream followed, Seung’s pace slowed down as he limped at the hit his leg took. He roughly grabbed the back of your shirt, pushing you forward in a rough manner. 

All of you stopped running when you reached a river, everyone was panting heavily while you trembled as felt the gun pressed against your temple while Seung toyed with the trigger which made you even more terrified and anxious at the sounds. 

“Come any closer or I won’t hesitate to shoot!” He threatened as he pulled you closer, closing your eyes at what will happen. 

Mark raised his gun. “This is between you and I, Seung. Leave her out of this!” 

“Or what?” 

“Or else, you won’t like what I’ll do next.”

The tension was heavy between the men, it was silent that you can hear their breathing and the sound of the river nearby. The last thing you heard was someone yelling your name and a menacing laughter as you struggled against the river’s current. Your breath gets ragged as you grapple around to get more air, slowly losing your consciousness.  

Meanwhile, Mark the man while Haechan immediately jumped into the river before it was too late. He was livid, not sparing mercy to his opponent while he landed blow after blow until he was sitting on top of him, beating him up senselessly. 

“I won’t rest until I avenge my brother. I won’t lose!” Seung said weakly at him, reaching out for his neck in an attempt to strangle him. 

He tried to pry it off but felt the grip getting tighter while his vision started to get hazy, his left hand snaked under his jacket before letting out a crooked smile. 

His fingers held onto four ace cards, mockingly showing it to his opponent whose face showed visible confusion and horror. “I-i won.” 

With a swift flick of a finger, the knife hidden underneath the cards came into a view. Without wavering, he made a deep incision on the left part of his neck. Blood started to seep from Seung’s mouth and neck, his hands falling unto his sides lifelessly. Mark stood up, satisfied with what he did and started to walk away from the body. 

He’d have to make sure to call Jisung to dispose of this later. 

Mark ran up to see Haechan kneeling beside your body. “How’s (y/n)?” 

“As you can see, she still hasn’t woken up.” He replied as he gently placed his palm on your forehead, still cold to the touch. 

A few moments later, you started coughing up all the water you’ve had before you slowly opened your eyes to look at Mark and Haechan looking back at you in relief. 

“D-did I die?” You wheezed which earned a low chuckled from both of them. 

“I like her already, can we keep her?” He shot Haechan a look before the said man raised his arm in surrender. 

Placing his hand on your cheek and leaning his forehead against yours, ignoring your drench and cold form while he looks at you directly in the eye. 

He mumbles as you feel his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. I’m glad you’re alive and safe.” 

“I should be the one saying that to you. You’ve saved my life now, Mark.” You responded which elicited a small smile on both of your lips. 

Your hands made their way on his jaw before you pulled him into a slow, gentle kiss. Almost forgetting what happened earlier due to the amount of overwhelming feeling of longing and affection you both felt for each other. 

“Hyung, I’d appreciate it if you turned your mic off. You do know I can still hear you.” Renjun spoke from the earpiece.

The both of you pulled away, Mark flushed in embarrassment before he argued and jabbed incoherent insults to the person he’s talking to before helping you up on your feet. 

Eight people crammed inside the van, it took a while for all of you to get inside as the others had important errands to do before hopping in. They were all interesting and rowdy individuals, even Mark got tired of telling them off. Your eyelids started to droop from fatigue. 

“You should sleep, (y/n). It’s a bit of a drive to get back to the base.” Mark said as he adjusted his position so you can lean on his shoulder. “You can lay down on my shoulder.” 

You moved a bit before placing your head on the slope of his shoulder. “Better?” He asked which earned a small nod from you. 

“I’m good now. Thanks.” You muttered before drifting to sleep as you felt him rub circles on the back of your palm. 

Mark tapped your shoulder when you all reached the base, everyone started to pile out while you two waited for your turn as you two sat by the back of the van. Courtesy of Chenle calling shotgun on the front seat where Mark usually sits during their missions. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” He asked as he helped you get out of the van, closing the door behind. 

“With everything that just happened, I might get recurring nightmares.” You admitted, stretching your sore limbs. 

Mark lets out a sigh and takes your hand into his, “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.” 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” You intertwined your hands with his before giving him a reassuring smile.He looks you in concern before he looks from afar before you two went inside the base, hand in hand. 

It was a comforting, the feeling of his palm that radiated warmth despite knowing what it had done to unfortunate enemies that crossed his path and his fingers that slipped into yours. His shoulder occasionally bumps into yours, making you laugh. Maybe, you’ll get accustomed to this, being with him and entering his world. 

[alwayschoosechocolate]

Reaction: Y/n having philophobia (the fear of falling in love) [Maknae line]

Requested by @agustdbaby93​​​ My masterlist can be found here!

Post for the hyung line

Jimin:

“I really like hanging out with you,” he smiled softly from his position next to you on the mattress, head resting on his one arm while the other was draped carefully across your stomach. 

“Me too,” you hummed with a smile as you tried to will down the anxiety scratching at the back of your throat as his words. 

No, you scolded yourself. You know why we do this. I’m not letting it stop us this time. We deserve this as well. 

“You okay?”, he asked with concerned eyes at your obvious discomfort as his thumb drew worried circles against your hip. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”, you chuckled dismissively, as you drew incoherent figures on his arm in an effort to distract him, as your heart pounded in your ears. 

“I don’t know, but I can feel your heartbeat in your stomach and you’re completely tensed up,” he drawled as he stated the obvious, making you huff out in irritation at yourself as you sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, swallowing around the clump in your throat as you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s going on?”, he asked cautiously as he sat up next to you and pulled your hand into his in his lap, as his eyes searched for yours behind the curtain your hair luckily provided.

You’d been going out for about a month and a half now and it had all been really lovely, fluffy and overall perfect. But you had struggled immensely through all of it, as you’d had to push down your anxiety just to go on a regular date with Jimin. But you really liked him and you wanted this to work, so you had fought through the shallow breaths, clammy hands and unwelcomed panic-attacks. But as the two of you got closer, it’d gotten harder and harder to hide your hardship with the whole situation. Especially as Jimin got more and more casual with his affection towards you, making it very clear how smitten he was with you. 

Feeling Jimin’s thumb grazing your knuckles snapped you back to reality, eyes shooting up to see his gazing patiently back at you, encouraging you to go on.

“Look, I know this might not really be anything yet and that we don’t know where it’s gonna end up, but I need you to know something,” you said timidly, drawing your hand out of his and letting it fall to your lap. 

“I am really not good at this stuff,” you admitted with a shallow sigh as your anxiety pressed on your lungs, making you grit your teeth in determination. “I get anxious just at the idea of sharing myself with another person and I will probably put up a fight every time we try to take the next step. Even if it’s a minor one.” 

As your nervous breaths filled the air between you, Jimin remained silent, only causing your anxiety to kick extra into gear.

“I’m not trying to make an issue out of anything or nothing and I’m not doing this to be a bitch, but I really like you and I want this to work. I want to be honest with you,” you gasped as you clutched your hands tightly to stop them from shaking. 

“So what does this mean exactly? Can you give me an example?”, he asked softly as if afraid of scaring you if he spoke any louder.

“It means I’m not good at admitting my feelings or letting them be known. I know you want to let people know when you love them and cherish them and I don’t want to stop you from doing that, but it will probably make me uncomfortable and I won’t be able to say it back until I am absolutely sure of my feelings.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we found our own way of saying it? Of expressing fondness and that we care about each other? Something less heavy?”, he inquired carefully, as he once again reached for your hand and smiled in relief when you let him. 

“Like what?” 

“Hmm. We could say that we tolerate each other? Or we could come up with a nickname? Something stupid that would make us smile? Like squirrel, or giraffe, or koala, or tree, or earring?”, he giggled excitedly as he kept suggesting names and the list grew increasingly more ridiculous, causing your own chuckle to join his, making Jimin grin as the sound reached his ears. 

“You’re such an idiot,” you laughed as you shoved his shoulder teasingly, making him fall back on the bed in laughter as he pulled you down with him. 

“Or we can keep it simply and go with that?”, he suggested with a flicker of fondness in his eyes as he smiled widely at you. 

“With what? Idiot?”, you laughed happily, as the mere thought of it caused you to grin. 

“Yes. But only when we really mean it, okay? I don’t want you to call me an idiot, unless you really mean it,” he reprimanded you with a loving grin and a giggle lazing his words. 

“And what if I really do think you’re being an idiot?”, you challenged him with a cheeky grin and innocent eyes. 

“Then you can call me a dork,” he laughed as he leaned in to catch your lips with his and letting his hand find its previous place on your hip.  

“You’re such a dork,” you hummed against his lips, laughing when you felt his hands against your sides. “No, don’t tickle me, you idiot!”, you shrieked, words passing your lips before you had time to second-guess them.

“Aha! I think you’re an idiot too,” he beamed triumphantly, winching slightly when you slapped his arm though the smirk never left his lips, as he leaned in to capture your lips once more.

Taehyung:

“Kim Taehyung, you fucking pig!”, you screamed out the second you stepped through the front door of your apartment, making the man in question jump slightly from his position on the couch and turn towards you with wide and confused eyes. 

“What? What did I do?”, he pouted at you which only fueled your anger further on. 

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me!”, you practically growled, as you kicked off your shoes and threw your bag and coat against the wall. “You know what you did.” 

“I really have no idea, love,” he answered with an innocent shrug, obviously not the least bit interesting the problem at hand as he turned back to his phone. 

“And now you’re ignoring me? That’s just perfect! I’m trying to talk about this, but I should have know you wouldn’t even try to disprove it,” you huffed in annoyance as you crossed your arms in front of your chest and glared at him. “You never think there are any problems between us. Not even when we’re in the middle of an argument!”

Lifting his eyes from his phone, he cocked an eyebrow at your words and let out a defeated sigh as he finally put down the phone, making you straighten up a bit in preparation for what was to come. 

“Are we arguing right now? Okay, let me just get ready,” he spoke with a sudden calmness to his features, looking almost bored as he put his phone away and stood up from the couch to walk towards you. “What are we arguing about today?”

“That girl you were flirting with at the award show last night, Taehyung! And don’t lie to me! I saw the photos!”, you exclaimed in exasperation, as you followed his movements when he moved towards you, eyes clear and analyzing as he stopped right in front of you. 

“What girl? The presenter, I stood next to for a total of 15 seconds? Yes, I definitely flirted with her,” he answered cockily, voice dripping with sarcasm as he mirrored your crossed arms and leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. “I pulled out all the stops, but sadly she wasn’t interested, Y/n.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you sneered at him before untangling your arms and walked around the kitchen island.

“You always do this! You make fun of me when I try to talk to you about something that’s bugging me,” you protested as you opened the cupboard to pull out a glass. 

“Because it’s ridiculous, Y/n. I did not flirt with her. Just as I wasn’t laughing at you last week, or was ignoring you the week before that,” he laughed in disbelief as he threw up his hands in frustration and slight astonishment at how you kept accusing him of seemingly everything he could possibly do wrong.

“Stop calling it ridiculous,” you screamed as you slammed down the glass on the counter, voice cracking slightly as panic overtook it. “It is not ridiculous if it’s how I feel, Taehyung! Do you think I’m ridiculous? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” 

“Right now it is, yes,” he answered without missing a beat, causing you to narrow your eyes at him with a hiss. “If you really think I am stupid enough to flirt with a random presenter when I have you to come home to, then yes. You are absolutely ridiculous,” he stated as he reached out for your hand and pulled you into his embrace despite how much you fought against him. 

Holding you close, he felt how your panicked heart was unmistakably thundering away against your rib-cage, making him let out a concerned sigh as he tightened his hold on you, ignoring your complaints and struggles against his arms. 

When you finally gave up and sank into his embrace, a loud sigh leaving your lips, you felt him press a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Are you done looking for excuses to leave me?”, he whispered against your hair as he stroked your hair, encasing your body with his own and finally managing to make your heartbeat calm down.

Not trusting your voice to answer, you nodded solemnly as you hid your head under his jaw and whispered a barely audible apology against his warm skin.

“Are you ever gonna stop?”

A rueful shrug of your shoulders and a sigh in response from him.

“I love you so much, but you gotta stop trying to get rid of me, darling. I’m not leaving you. I don’t care how many ridiculous arguments you throw my way. I am just as a dramatic as you are. I can keep up.”

Jungkook:

“You know, I always knew you were the one for me. That day I met you, I heard a bell ringing,” he admitted sheepishly, as he handed you the ice cream he’d just bought you and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you away from the ice-cream truck and towards the small lake at the other end of the park. 

You were celebrating your first anniversary and Jungkook had been adamant to recreate the day you two had met in the park, so he had rented it out for the day so you would actually have the privacy to stroll around and enjoy each other instead of worrying about him getting recognized.

“Jungkook, there were a ton of kids around us that day. You probably just heard the bells from their bicycles,” you chuckled dismissively at his words, as you took another bite of the ice-cream, missing the faltering smile on his face.

“What?”

“The bicycles,” you repeated absentmindedly as you turned towards him with an overbearing smile. 

He was cute. He’d always been cute. It was definitely one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, when he’d flashed his bunny smile at you as he helped you pick up your notes for your class on french philosophers, that you’d been working on the park bench when a strong wind had blown them away. But he could be a bit naive as well. A shadow of childhood innocence that he had somehow managed to keep alive even through his fast track idol life.

“I heard you,” he snapped with a wronged look in his eyes and visible pout to his lips. “You know how much the bell thing means to me. Are you trying to tell me you don’t think I’m your soulmate?”

“I’m just saying that the idea of a soulmate it ridiculous. There are billions of people on this earth and no one really cares about anyone but themselves,” you smiled casually, as you reached up to ruffle his hair only to have him duck out of your reach with a defiant glare.

“I do. I care about my hyungs and I care about my family and I care about you,” he stated in an annoyed huff, moving to cross his arms in front of him but awkwardly abandoning the movement when he remembered the cone in his hand. 

“And that’s all completely valid, guk, but also temporary. You’re not gonna care about me for the rest of your life.”

“I am too,” he argued childishly, not willing to let you off the hook this easily. 

“Kookie, just drop it. I don’t mind really. It would be foolish of me to expect anyone to care about me for the rest of their lives,” you reassured him.

“Stop it! Cut it out! Stop talking! I don’t want to hear you talk like this!”, he exclaimed in a raised voice, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise and slight fright at his sudden outburst as your lips clammed shut at his words. “I love you, okay? I care about you and I will keep caring about you. And I don’t care if you don’t believe in soulmates, cause I do and I heard the bells when I met you, so you are my soulmate, alright?” 

Afraid to answer in any other way, you nodded diligently at his questions as you observed the heaving of his chest and the redness creeping up his neck, as his eyes bore into yours in an unvoiced challenge. 

“Good,” he mumbled with a satisfied huff as he intertwined your fingers again, his movements a lot softer and attentive now as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You can be pessimistic all you want, but don’t you dare mess with my bells.”

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Extraordinary

from An Adventurer’s Guide to Romance Part 2 of the series collaboration between myself & @guardians-of-exo​! Please go check out her blog! Her moodboards are *chef’s kiss* magnificent and she listens to me scream about plants while she fixes all of my horrific punctuation! She is wonderful. <3 Pairing: Yixing x reader Rating: M (for mentions of sexual activity and semi-graphic gore). Words: ~10k

The sun is just bright enough to be an annoyance to your eyes. Bringing your hand to shield your eyes in a mock salute, a smile graces your lips anyway at the thought of your herbs appreciation for the burning star. During your route, you wonder if your Coneflower and Thyme are ready for pruning. Chewing your lip, you worry they aren’t but hope they are. As more soldiers return injured from outside the city limits, your stocks of herbs have begun to run low. Dealing with the current threats to the Kingdom, you’re concerned that the growth of your medicinal herbs won’t be enough to heal everyone. Just one week ago you’d expressed such concerns to the Lady of the Palace, who promised to bring them before the King. For days you stressed, fluttering about the ward and checking your inventories twice, thrice, just to keep busy when you were not tending to the wounded. If your calculations were correct, you would run out within the month. Especially with the pesky Knight Captain and his recklessness. You vividly remember the moment the Lady of the Palace returned to you with a smile gracing her lips. Elegant and regal as she may be, her professional exterior faltered just enough to let you see the pleasant side of her happiness when she came to tell you the King had found a hopeful prospect of resolution for your concerns. Seeing the value of his people’s safety, he sent a guarded caravan to collect an Apothecary living outside of the city's walls to the North. One with a quirky but excellent reputation. That was three days ago, explaining that they’d just arrived and in two days’ time it would be the first day of a new contract between the palace and this new Apothecary. You giggle to yourself at the events that followed. The Knight Captain barging into the ward carrying his Lieutenant as they bickered like siblings. You learned she was part of the caravan and somehow managed to fall from her horse and break her leg.

She was frustrated by the situation and was every bit as loud as her temper, complaining about being bedridden for a couple of days. She went on a rant about who was going to babysit the Knight Captain while she wasn’t there, Chanyeol huffing with an offended look on his face.

Loud peals of laughter startle you from your memories as a pack of children chase one another across the street ahead of you. A shaggy black mutt runs between them with a tongue too big for its muzzle flopping out of one side.  You see Frost Flower Inn on the opposite side of the street, laughing at the irony of its name while it’s lit up in the warmth of the sun. The owner moves across the porch, sweeping before the crowd picks up later. Sensing your eyes on him, he turns his feline gaze to you with a kind smile.

“Good morning Y/N!” he calls across the expanse of stone, waving a hand at you excitedly. Removing a hand from your skirts, you wave back as you pass, “Good morning, Minseok!” From the directions you were given by the palace Cartographer, the new shop should be just around the corner from the bakery. You sigh contentedly as you draw closer. The smell of freshly baked goods gets heavier the closer you come to its source. Several women are loitering around the outside, their eyes trained to the open walls of the building for something. Just as you’re rounding the corner you hear an angelic male voice greeting them, and they swoon. Immediately, you trip over something large, “Oh!” Careful not to land on it, you straighten and look back to see a man lying asleep on the path. A pair of round wire-framed eyeglasses lays cracked on the dirt beside him. Surging forward, you watch his chest rise and fall before touching his cheek gently a few times, “Sir?” He's out cold. He doesn’t respond to your touch or your voice, but you’re satisfied he’s alive. Looking around, you notice he came from the open door of a shop not ten feet away. You need to get him up. While you’ve had your share of moving dead weight into the medical ward at the palace, you’re not sure you can do it alone. Weighing your options, girlish laughter comes from the corner once more. None of those women would be of assistance, but perhaps the man from the bakery would help you move him without much fuss. You rise, looking around the quiet alley before you move back out onto the main stretch of road. It takes a moment of polite pushing to reach the door of the bakery, but you manage. Entering, you spot two men standing behind the counter, one older and one younger. You’re aware the establishment is owned by a father and son, and you can see the resemblance. “Ah, excuse me?” you call to them. There isn’t anyone else standing at the counter other than you. The older of the two notices you first. “How can I help you, miss?” he asks. His smile crinkles his eyes.  Twisting your body backwards toward the door, you’re not sure how to begin without causing a commotion, “Ah... you see, I actually need some help? Something... heavy, fell over and I can’t move it by myself. Would you mind assisting me? It will only take a moment.” Considering your request, he turns, “Son, can you help this young lady?” The younger man looks up from the dough he is kneading on the counter with a curious expression. He pats his hands on his apron aggressively and rinses them before coming around the front of the counter. “Can you help me lift something for a moment?” you inquire. His smile also crinkles his eyes, like his father’s. “I can,” he confirms, gesturing for you to lead the way. The moment you’re outside, you realize the commotion the women are causing is for him. None of them make a sound as they watch him follow you around the corner. Shuddering, you feel their heated gazes like daggers in your back. “Ah...” you begin, scratching at your head and pointing at the man still sleeping in the street. The young Baker gawks, “What happened to him?” Heaving a sigh from your lungs, you pluck the glasses from the ground and pocket them before you crouch and hold each ankle in one hand, “I don’t know, I nearly tripped over him. I think he came from this shop,” you explain, tilting your chin toward the open door.  With a strong, furrowed brow, your assistant moves to the man's head, gathering his shoulders into his arms. Lifting him together, you move him through the door. Taking in the chaos of boxes and crates scattered around the main room, you notice an abundance of shattered glass vials and a mess of brown colored powder on the floor and decide to investigate later. A staircase is behind the counter. “There’s got to be a bed upstairs,” you suggest. “Here,” replies the Baker. “Let me carry him then.” Together, you maneuver the sleeping man onto his back. As you move up the staircase, it creaks beneath the combined weight of the men, and you’re grateful for the help.  Surely as you thought, a single bed rests below a window on the second floor. With your aid, the man is eased down onto it and laid on his side. The young Baker rolls his shoulder, releasing a huff, “Well then. What are you going to do with him?” Twisting your lips, you consider your options and decide to stay until this man recovers, “I’m the Head Physician at the palace. I can sit with him until he wakes up. I'm here to meet him anyway.” Running a hand through his hair to push it off of his forehead, the man nods, “Ah, I see then. You must know the Lady of the palace.” “Oh? Yes, I do,” you begin, pausing to question. “Do you?” His bottom lip juts out and his eyes flick around the room. “I met her last week,” he says. “She came to check out this shop. Something about an Apothecary to help the sick and wounded. She got a little lost and asked for help.”  “I see,” you nod in understanding. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name,” you realize.  He smiles politely, “It’s Junmyeon.” Nodding, you return the sentiment, “Thank you, Junmyeon. I'm Y/N. I appreciate your help.” He hums in reply, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’ve got to get back to work then. It was nice meeting you,” he states cordially as he leaves. Just before he disappears on the staircase, he adds, “Tell him to be more careful when he wakes up, please.”  It makes you laugh as he leaves. For a few quiet moments, you watch the sleeping man. Or rather, sedated, is your best guess. You're nearly positive the powder on the floor downstairs is Valerian Root. Nobody sleeps that heavily under natural circumstances. You watch him rest quietly, taking note of his features. His ears are pointed just slightly, and his cheekbones are high, with a straight nose, curved slightly at the button. Even with relaxed features during sleep, he’s handsome. The line of his lips makes a shape you find cute.  Having ogled him enough, you look around the room. A bookshelf full of journals and a desk are set up against the opposite wall of the bed, and a chest of clothing sits open at the far end of the room. Several pieces are spilling over the edge of it, and various types of accessories are gathered on a low table beside it.  A large woolen rug swathes the floor beside the bed, and a washbasin kisses the edge of it where it stands along the wall. There’s also an impressive oval mirror leaning against the corner of the room next to it. You can see your reflection clearly in its flawless surface. The sound of stirring among sheets pulls your attention back to the bed, where the man is moving. Awkwardly, you stand in the center of the room hugging your arms to yourself.  He blinks a few times and takes a large breath, yawning. The man sits up and puts one palm to his head, groaning. “Take it easy,” you comment quietly. His attention snaps to you, finally noticing he isn’t alone. Curiously, he looks at you, “Hello, can I help you?” You laugh. It’s not that you meant to, but his kindness immediately pulls the endearing sound from your chest, “Are you alright?” “I’m sorry,” he begins, coughing slightly. “Who are you and what happened?” You sit beside him at the foot of the bed, “I’m Y/N. I tripped over you lying in the middle of the street and brought you back here with some help.” He nods, knitting his brow as he remembers, “Ah, yes. I think I knocked over a crate of Valerian powder. Tried to get outside but I guess I breathed in too much.” That would explain the vials of broken glass and the powder on the floor downstairs. A swell of pride wells in your chest at your correct deduction. “I’m sorry if I caused you trouble and thank you for helping me,” he begins quietly, still rubbing his head. “I just moved in and it’s been a little difficult.” He pauses when he squints at you, “Have you seen a pair of glasses, by the way?” “Oh,” you jolt, snapping your fingers together. Reaching into your pocket, you procure the pair of frames with the damaged lens that were lying outside. “They’re a little broken,” you state in a sad voice.  He smiles as he takes them from your hands, holding them up to inspect the crack, “I can fix these.” Your mouth drops open in shock, “Really, how?” The man grins at you with mischievous eyes, “It’s a secret I’m afraid.” He rises and moves to the stairs, turning to look at you expectantly before descending. You stand a little too quickly, nearly tripping on your own skirts to follow him. Down in the shop, you hear him click his teeth, finding him crouched over the pile of wasted dust. “It’s no good anymore,” you muse aloud sadly, remembering why you’re here in the first place. The man stands up again and smiles at you. A dimple forms in one of his cheeks. “Perhaps not all is lost,” he reports wistfully. “Why are you so sad?” “Oh...” you suddenly remember you’ve yet to introduce yourself to him, “I’m Y/N, the Head Physician. That Valerian powder was something I was hoping I could purchase from you, among other things.” The man perks up, his eyes bright with understanding. “Oh! Has it been two days already?” he chuckles to himself, looking around the room sheepishly. “I got so busy trying to set up the shop I hadn’t realized it was time for you to come already.” “It’s okay, I understand,” you reply. He turns toward you fully, extending a hand. “I’m Yixing. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I look forward to working with you,” he smiles kindly. His dimple appears again when you take his hand and return the gesture with a warm smile of your own. “What else were you hoping I have? It's yours if I’ve got it. I can have more Valerian powder for you by this time tomorrow if that’s okay?” he asks, moving to the counter and reaching for his ledger. “I’m not open for business with anyone else yet, but the Royal contract starts today of course. I won’t charge you for anything you take with you today,” he turns around and pauses to meet your gaze. “As thanks for your help.” You realize your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling for so long, “It’s really no trouble. I’m glad you’re alright.” Yixing, as you’ve learned, grins back at you with a wink, “Never slept better.” Both of you laugh at his jesting. You think the sound of his laughter suits him. Taking a peek around the room, you spot something you’re looking for. Yixing’s eyes chase your form deeper into the room where you reach up to pluck three sprigs of dried Thyme from the ceiling, “These will do.” His smile falters momentarily, “That’s all?” “Well,” you hum, looking around the room while tapping the dried herbs against your fingertips. “This?” you question, moving to a crate of Yarrow root. Yixing moves to your side with a small burlap sack, “Take however many you like.” You count two, letting them sink into the bag he holds out for you one at a time. Up close, now that’s he’s awake and standing in front of you, his attractiveness comes to life with the mid-morning sunlight casting oddly shaped shadows against his skin.  When you look up at his face, he’s wearing the same smile and waiting patiently. You step away to pluck a string of garlic bulbs from the opposite end of the wall. Yixing follows, grinning as you drop them carefully into the bag, “Always a good choice.” “Can never have too many,” you agree with a smirk that matches his own. Both of you pause, smiling like idiots. You admit to yourself Yixing certainly seems interesting. You find yourself curious for what this new partnership has in store. “I think that will do for today,” you announce. Nodding, he shuts the drawstring tightly, offering it to you. “Thank you,” you express, taking the bag and turning to leave. When you turn around to look back at him, he’s leaning on a stack of books nonchalantly. Slowly, it begins to slide with his weight. “This time tomorrow?” you ask just as the books give way and fall from under his palm. He catches himself, standing up straight and looking at you with wide eyes, ignoring the mess of books on the floor, “Yes.” You laugh, shaking your head and waving to him, “I look forward to working with you, Yixing.” Passing by the front window as you leave, you catch sight of him inside the store. He’s talking to himself, repetitively pushing the heel of his palm against his forehead. Then, he disappears to the floor, probably to pick up the pile of books. With a smile, you make your way back to the palace. __________________________________________ The following morning, just as promised, Yixing has a basket with vials of Valerian powder wrapped neatly and ready for you.

There’s a gentle smile on his face when he passes them to you, and it grows wider with joy when he hears your soft gasp of delight. “Oh these are perfectly well balanced! Thank you so much,” you praise him, meeting his eyes as you pull one out and hold it closely to your chest. He laughs softly, maintaining the same happy expression. “You’re very welcome. I’m happy to help,” he says. Your eyes follow the movement of his delicate fingers as they push his glasses up the length of his nose. There’s a dusting of rose color to his cheeks. Before the moment lulls for too long, you wonder aloud, “Where did you learn such perfect skill?” Yixing blinks at you once, twice, opening his mouth and furrowing his brow before he sighs, “Ah, I just have a lot of practice.” “Was it a family practice?” you ask. His smile falters for a moment. He looks at the floor and sadly meets your eyes, “Uh, no. My family is long gone.” Frowning, you touch at your own chest, “Oh… I’m sorry for asking. I di-“ “It’s okay,” he waves a hand at you with wide eyes. Then he moves to sit on the high stool behind the counter, “They died when I was three or four. Occupational hazards.” “I see,” you nod sadly. Yixing clears his throat then, standing. “I um,” he begins, folding his arms across his chest and looking seriously at you. “I wonder if I might be able to come and watch you work? Or see your ward?” You were not expecting him to ask these kinds of things, but you pause, “Why would you want to do that?” He unfolds his arms and stuffs his hands in his pockets, “It will help me conclude what I need to focus on to help you to the best of my ability.” You’re touched by his willingness, “Yixing, you don’t need to do that.” “I want to,” he immediately responds. He refuses to let you deflect his wishes. “Would it make you uncomfortable?” You flush, though you’re not sure why. It’s a simple request to watch you work for the sake of providing the best resources for medicine. Medicine and healing are not something most people would think of as intimate, but most people aren’t in the field. There’s something about it. Something calm and quiet and yes, you would say intimate, about carefully practicing medicine and healing to ease the suffering. The compassion and bonds you make with your patients. Regardless of your feelings, you know it would be good to do this, “No, it’s okay. You can come.” His single dimple forms in his cheek with his smile. “Tomorrow?” he asks. “Alright,” you nod. ________________________________________________________________________ Tomorrow comes, but your stomach is too nervous to have any food before you begin your rounds. Three more soldiers were admitted to the ward overnight, having sustained Drauger-related injuries. You’ve finished redressing wounds on two of them when a knock on the ward’s door interrupts you from the third. “Master Physician, the Apothecary has arrived,” says the guard, turning to leave the moment Yixing walks through the door. He waves briefly to you before holding up a book of parchment and pointing to a seat at the desk beside the door. You smile and nod at him before turning back to your task. You pick up a mortar and pestle from the cart beside the patient’s bed, crushing and grinding a clove of fresh garlic. With a match, you then hold the flame out to kiss a pair of forceps for a few seconds before whipping it with your wrist to extinguish it. You pinch some garlic with the instrument and give the soldier a stern look before you drop it into the wound on his abdomen.  He hisses and you can feel Yixing’s eyes shift from his notes to your frame. “Hush now and let me wrap you up. This will help,” you mutter to him. “Next time don’t go picking fights with undead, lest you end up like they do.” “Yes ma’am,” the soldier grunts. He watches you pluck a bandage from a bowl, steeped in thyme paste before he holds his breath. You lay it over the wound as gently as your hands will allow, patting the man on the shoulder when you’re done. You can still feel Yixing watching you as you pull out a roll of thick, soft gauze from a drawer lower on the same cart. Even though you can’t see him, you know his gaze lingers on you as you touch the half-naked man in front of you. You ignore the flush it brings to your cheeks as you nearly press your cheek to his pectoral, struggling to reach behind him as you wind the gauze carefully around his torso. Finished, you turn back to your mysterious business partner. Before either of you can say a word, another Physician moves into the ward with a woman retching into a bucket. The rest of the day carries on this way, until you’re exhausted, but you continue to work diligently to relieve the pain of the suffering. It’s well passed supper and the moon is rising to the peak of the sky before you are finally finished. Yixing, patient as ever and thirsty for fulfillment, has not left you. He did give you some space to deliver a baby for a woman earlier in the afternoon, but even the food he returned with for you remained there beside him at the desk. In the quiet stillness of the late evening, you approach his side, noticing the way the orange candlelight casts warm shadows across the bridge of his nose and gives a soft glow to his dark eyes. You pull a chair up beside him and collapse into it rather unceremoniously. There’s little grace left to be had when you can’t feel your feet beneath you anymore. “Long day?” he guesses with a dimpled grin. His eyes watch you expectantly as you nod, yawning into the back of your hand, “Something like that.” “You should get some rest,” he says. “A wild guess but I think you need to eat, bathe and sleep.” You roll your head back across your shoulders, smiling at him from the odd angle of your head, “He’s cute and smart? Who would have guessed.” He laughs happily at your flirtatious sarcasm but says nothing else, “I should probably let you get some rest.” “Wait,” you whisper when he stands to leave. “At least let me see what you’ve come up with before you go.” His smile crinkles his eyes this time, conceding to your wishes. Yixing turns to move the cold plate of forgotten supper into your lap with a raised brow, effectively fixing you with a daring look as he smooths his notes across the desk. You eat as he begins speaking, pointing out things he noticed about your preferences to different herbs and treatments and laughs as he explains an expression of disgust you always make when dealing with Ginger root. “I don’t like the smell,” you laugh and take a bite of bread. He continues, but you stop him when his fingers crosses a particular herb, “Ah, not Goldenseal, please. I don’t use it for a reason. The effective doses are so close to the line of poison and I have other remedies for what it treats. It’s also endangered.” Yixing nods, carefully pulling the quill from the ink bottle and crossing out the word on his list. “I would also suggest cutting back on the mount of Winter Savory you’re using. You can mix it with other herbs to help it last and it will have the same benefits,” he says before adding, “But it’s just my opinion. I can get you more Summer Savory if you need it.” You shake your head at him, “No, you’re right. I should cut it back. I just don’t have enough time to do the cutting so I mix it all at once just so I have any salves at all.” He smiles at you, picking up his papers and taking the empty plate from your hands to set it back on the desk, “Well that’s part of why I’m here now, so let me worry about that. You just focus on treating these poor people.” “What about the Fennel? Why do we need that?” you ask curiously, tilting your chin toward the page. He turns to you fully and regards you with a blank expression momentarily, “Well they’re delicious, that’s why.” You bark out a loud laugh and give him a soft smile, “Thanks, Yixing.” He nods and leans forward to pat your shoulder, “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Turning to watch him go, you notice your feel more awake since he put his hand on you. Willfully, you try to pretend your heart also doesn’t race. ____________________________________________ Yixing comes the next morning and settles into this routine for eight more days as well. Every day you feel nervous about him watching your movements and curiously scribbling notes about your work. Always, after a few hours you forget he is there and act more naturally. He seems to have made some friends among other palace staff members. You had even seen him delivering a letter to your friend the Lady of the Palace once three days ago. Her smile upon seeing the folded parchment made you suspicious, but you’re much too busy to do anything about it other than be happy for her. By the time the sun is at its peak in the afternoon, you’re reminded by his gentle fingers touching lightly at your elbow to ask you if you could pause to eat. He always reminds you your health is important, too. What are these poor people to do if their greatest source of healing is out of commission. In the afternoons he works from the room adjacent to the ward, working hard to mix salves and cures and prep jars of steeping bandages. He also tends to your garden of herbs, watering and pruning at the right time. Twice you’ve caught him talking to the plants and giving them extra attention although at first you were not sure if he was talking to them or himself. You grow weary as the days drag on and neither of you wants to admit that there has been an increase in patients admitted for wounds caused by the Draugers. Neither of you acknowledges that the injuries are graver as the days go on. Somehow, he has met Kyungsoo, the Head Chef, and the pair have become fast friends. Kyungsoo spoils him with food every day as thanks for his help. You’re thankful to Kyungsoo in return. Since Yixing began helping out and making most of your salves and remedies for you, he has also made deals to ensure you have a hot meal at the end of your shift. Today, in spite of the fear beginning to seep into your tired bones, Yixing surprises you. He walks in and greets you as usual, but held in the crook of his arm are not only his notebooks, but a large selection of flowers are wrapped in a lovely color of paper and tied with twine. His eyes flick to yours briefly across the room while you place stitches in the thigh of a wounded soldier, and your eyes widen when you see what he’s carrying. Yixing avoids your gaze until you finish your procedure and are stepping closely into his personal space. You lean over him deliberately to look at the arrangement, “Did you bring me flowers?” He balks, clearing his throat, “They’re for medicine.” He pretends to look over his notes, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “Feverfew?” you ponder aloud. “Migraines and headaches,” he clarifies offhandedly. You smile, “Passion flower?” You let your fingers pass delicately over the colorful petals as you wait for his reply. He grins but still refuses to meet your gaze, “Depression and blood pressure.” “Hm…” you muse. “What about the Paganum Harmala?” “The seeds are good for your skin, among other things,” he says with a shrug. “Camomi-“ you try but he cuts you off. “Same thing but better,” he states. With each flower your smile grows. “What about Sunflowers,” you ask. He scoffs, laughing and finally looking up, “You already know most of these. Why are you asking?” You shrug in return, “I don’t know all of their uses, and I just like to hear you talk about them.” He nods, lips tightening as a grin splits across his face. “What about the lavender?” you pry after a moment passes, even though this one you already know. He smiles wider at you, “Calming.” “The Sunflowers are beautiful,” you comment, running the pad of your index finger through the center of one. Yixing agrees. “They’re good for supporting digestion and your immune system. Promoting healthy skin, too,” he says matter-of-factly. “And the eucalyptus?” “Stress,” he whispers. You’re not entirely sure how all of these are going to help patients, and you panic briefly if there isn’t anything else left in his shop. Yixing, attuned to you after so many days of observing, immediately catches your rising concern, “These are for you, not the patients.” He pushes his glasses higher up his face again. He doesn’t say anything else for a few moments, letting you think back through each one and what he means until you realize how caring he is. Each and every one of these flowers is beautiful, and he picked them all based on their benefits specifically with you in mind. Regardless of your professions and the relation they have to your partnership… the gesture feels very romantic to you. Heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks when your head snaps to his and you stare at the dimple in his cheek while he smiles at you kindly. “Yixing…” you try, needing to swallow through the dryness of your throat. “You don’t have to say anything,” he assures you quietly. A pained moan pulls your eyes away from him again, and you smile gently at him before you turn back to your patients. _____________________________________________ All night you tossed and turned, your head full of Yixing and what his gesture meant to you today. For days now he has done nothing more than quietly observe you. No, that’s not all he has done. He has quietly observed you and acted on his findings. Making sure you’re eating and advocating for your well-being on behalf with other palace staff members. He has worked tirelessly to make proper treatments and remedies and even improved upon some of your recipes. He has admired you. You’re very grateful to him. From your bed, your eyes settle upon the sprigs of eucalyptus you hung from the side of your bath earlier, letting the steam of the water pull essential oils from the plant to help you relax. Slowly, you let your eyes wander away from the basin to the bundle you pulled the plant from. It rests, still wrapped in twine, on the plush cushion of an armchair near the door. Furrowing your brow, you realize you don’t know how to crush some of those flowers into effective benefits for yourself. Closing your eyes and turning over, for another hour or so you contemplate taking them to Yixing in the morning and asking him to teach you how. Surely he knows if he gave them to you from his own supply, and you happen to have a day off tomorrow. ____________________________________________________ The sound of someone shouting stirs you from sleep in a panic. Lifting your head from the pillow, you realize it’s nearly midday. “I told you to put it over there, not here!” another voice hollers back. With a sigh, you will your heart to calm its racing upon your realization that it isn’t anything to panic about; just staff going about their normal duties. You roll out of bed and hiss as the cold stone bites at your toes, padding across it with large strides to stand on the woolen rug in front of your armoire. Tying the knot of your corset, your eyes finally land on the wrapped flowers still sitting right where you left them. Your lips stretch into a giddy smile, and you quickly finish dressing and brushing back your hair. There’s an extra bounce of excitement and butterflies in your stomach as you take them into your arms and bring them to your nose. You laugh and pull open your door, intent on making your way to his shop, officially named The Honeyed Ram. The moment you step onto the main stretch of road in town, warm summer rain begins to pour down. It catches you off guard since the sun is still shining brightly, and you are helpless to escape it. Instead, you laugh as you ball your skirts in one fist and run down the street with your flowers. By the time you make it to the Apothecary’s door, you’re nearly soaked. Protected under the awning of the shop, you take a moment to collect yourself and adjust your wet hair as best you can before you push open the door. Hearing the bell, the handsome owner emerges from the room behind the counter with a his ledger balanced on one splayed palm and a quill in the other, “Welcome to The Honeyed Ram. How may I-“ He stops in his tracks when he meets your eyes over the top of his glasses where they’ve slid down his nose. He moves them from your face to take in your wet appearance, smiling as he sets his things on the counter, “Oh, let me get you a towel.” You don’t move or say anything, standing there dripping rainwater onto his floor while he hastily climbs the stairs two at a time. A moment later he returns with a large towel, immediately stepping toward you and taking it upon himself to cage your head in it with both hands. You can hear him laugh as he squeezes your hair in his hands, gently rubbing the sides of your face and neck with it to dry you off. With the barrier of the towel, you can feel his fingers run along the exposed bit of your chest to wipe away the water and your eyes snap to his the moment the towel is moved. His smile is gentle and kind and for a moment you wonder if he also finds you as attractive as you find him. You wonder if his fingertips brushing your collar bone and over the tops of your bosom make his heart race like it does yours. “Thank you,” you murmur to him when he is finished and satisfied, stepping back to look at you again. Yixing gently laughs, “You’re welcome. But why are you here… is everything alright?” His eyes move to the arrangement in your hands nervously, curious why you’ve brought them back to him. Nodding, you tuck them close to your chest again. “I um…” you try, but your pride makes it difficult. Yixing tilts his head, waiting politely for your answer. You sigh, “Can you teach me how to use some of them?” His eyes widen momentarily, like he wasn’t expecting you to ask him that. “If you want to, I mean. I don’t want to waste such a kind gift,” you blurt out, unsure of how it might make him feel or if you’re just reading into it too much. The man in front of you says nothing for a long moment, eyes narrowing as he considers you, standing there looking like a lamb. “I’d be honored to,” he finally admits quietly. The sun is suddenly overtaken outside as clouds move in and pour more rain over the kingdom. It pounds heavily on the roof as Yixing turns away with a smile, hooking a finger and beckoning you to follow. His work room is small but cozy. Perhaps a little tight for two people to work together all the time, but for today you will make do. There are no windows in this room, but several sconces are placed around the walls with candles lit to provide a warm glow. A gathering of them rests on the table as well, dripping wax onto the wood. There’s a small alchemy table in one corner of the room, already warmed where a bright blue elixir rests in the center well, flanked by coneflower petals and an amethyst crystal in the opposite circles. A blue butterfly’s wing rests off to the side, ready to be added. “Come over here, please,” he requests, motioning for you to stand at the work bench on the other side of the room. He pulls some tools from their resting places hung on the wall above it and passes you a pair of small scissors. The next hour progresses this way, as he teaches you how best to prune the flowers and dry them out effectively without burning them. Yixing shows you how to grind the lavender, but your technique isn’t grinding the buds fine enough. He steps behind you, gently taking your hands in his own and showing you a better technique, curling your wrist as you press the blunt head of the pestle down, and shaking the mortar around after each press. You’re not paying attention though, too distracted by the feel of his body so close to yours, and his hands guiding yours through your work. You realize that he smells like nature, calm and fresh. “That’s it…” he praises quietly. His head is just over your shoulder, leaning into your frame so he can see. The sound of his voice in your ear so pleasantly makes your heart thunder in yours ears and your cheeks feel as if they might burst into flame. Yixing moves to lean beside you briefly. His hand settles on your waist naturally, thinking nothing of it as he reaches over to fetch a glass jar full of a white substance. He sets it in front of you and moves his palm back to your hand again. “Now let’s combine these,” he whispers, plucking the cork from the glass jar. The sound of the pop makes you jump, whipping your head back against his mouth. Yixing makes a sound of pain and leans back, holding the cork as he presses the back of his hand to his mouth. You turn around in the space between the table and his body, watching in horror as his hand comes away with a smear of blood. “Oh damn the Maker, I’m so sorry!” you curse, leaning up to take his face with both hands. He stills as you examine his mouth. The center of his bottom lip is split open, and without thinking you hook the end of your sleeve around your thumb and dab it gently against the plump skin. Yixing’s eyes search your face while you tend to his wound. “Where do you keep your thyme balm?” you ask him, eyes lifting to meet his, realizing what you’re doing with your fingers pressed delicately to his lips. Embarrassment creeps up your neck and you release him, attempting to duck out of the space. Yixing grabs your wrist gently in his free hand before you can run from him, holding it to keep you there between himself and the table. Your eyes snap to his tongue as it slowly peeks out from his mouth to swipe over the wound. You stare, transfixed as the wound disappears in the span of a minute. “Magic?” you whisper, immediately intrigued again by the quirky talents of this handsome man. “Just a little,” he confirms. Setting aside your budding feelings for him, you rise on your toes and grasp his face between your hands again, swiping your thumbs and fingers across his lips and inspecting them closely. The lips you’re surveying stretch into a smile and you catch yourself, feeling foolish as you release him. Yixing chases you, leaning fully into your frame against the table and forcing you to lean back as he moves closer and studies your face. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him, suddenly feeling foolish. “For what? You’re very cute when you’re interested in something,” he admits in the small space between you, and you can faintly smell the mint he chews every day. The care that he expressed the words with is not lost on you. Yixing is patient as he moves languidly, letting one hand rest on the table behind you while the other settles against your waist once more. His words paint your ears and cheeks in a rose blush, and his hand feels soothing where it rests on your side. His lips hover over yours and the warmth of his eyes is kind as he meets yours and waits for you to decide. The moment your lips touch you feel like you’ve been shocked. Guilt and shame flood through you and you gasp, covering your own lips with your fingertips. Your body screams at you to run. So you do. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” you choke out, turning on your heel to leave Yixing and The Honeyed Ram. ________________________________________ Yixing doesn’t come to the palace for the next two days. Part of you wonders if he feels upset with you or if he is just as kind as ever and wants to give you space. All of you wonders if you’ve screwed it all up because you let your job get in the way of your feelings for him. Or is it the other way around? Refusing to stew in your turmoil over the situation, you work. Around the clock you tend to the wounded and sick. It’s nearly midnight when you close the curtain on the last patient you needed to see, after giving him a heavy dose of Valerian powder and Poppy to knock him out while you sewed his shoulder shut. You’ve just sat down at the desk when someone quietly enters the ward. “Y/N,” the voice calls. It’s deep and husky; one that you know as you look up to see the Knight Captain standing inside the room. “Chanyeol?” you question, curiously looking him over. “What can I do for you now?” you shoot him a grin even though you’re exhausted. He isn’t dressed in his uniform, off duty for the evening, as he lifts his shirt to reveal a nasty bruise blooming across his ribs and abdomen. “Just got back today,” he says bitterly. “And?” you ask, curious about the battles he has fought. “Still no good. We didn’t lose anyone, but they’re getting smarter. I don’t think it’s just Draugers acting on their own. They’re too coordinated for that, it’s unusual,” he admits, looking sour. You nod at him, “Roll that cart over, will you? Pull up a chair, too. I don’t think you need to stay.” He does as requested and pulls his tunic over his head to let you work. “Anywhere else I need to see?” you ask as you attach bandages soaked in blended Aloe Vera and Catnip to his ribs. The tips of his ears and his cheeks are red as he shakes his head at you. “What about that bruise?” you wonder aloud, pointing to a dark circle in the space between his jaw and ear. He sighs, grinning with defeat, “Ah, no. That one’s okay.” You rise, motioning for him to stand as well so you can wrap the dressing around his torso. Chanyeol lifts his arms to allow you the freedom to work. He hisses as your fingers press the dressing into his back. Curiously, you peek behind him to see long lines of red scratches down his shoulders. “Maker’s breath Chanyeol. What did she do to you?” He laughs gruffly, “She begged me to fuck her into oblivion, so I did.” His comment earns him a smack across the top of his head and a sharp glare. “What about you, then, huh?” he mocks instead, “Don’t act like you haven’t got it bad for that Apothecary.” You gawk at him, floundering for words until none come and he blinks at you expectantly with his wide eyes. “What?” Chanyeol inquires, aware by your actions that something has happened. “He um…” you try, fishing for words to explain. “We…” You huff, looking at the floor and covering your face with both hands. “I’m not even sure if I can call it a kiss,” you trail off. “A kiss?” Chanyeol says loudly through the fabric of his tunic as he attempts to get it back over his head. You hiss at him, “Quiet.” “Sorry.” With a deep sigh, “Kind of, I don’t know. It was like the moment our lips touched I freaked out.” Chanyeol hums, “Why?” Your hands sweep widely around the ward to all of the closed curtains of occupied beds, “This is why. I can’t be off doing that when all of this is so important.” “Do you like him?” he quizzes instead. You nod in response, pouting at yourself. “Then let it happen. You’re not the type to shirk your duties, you’re too responsible for that.” Chanyeol’s honesty about your ethics makes you smile even if you feel like a fool. “Thanks,” you say. Chanyeol nods at you as you help him adjust his clothing over the bandages, plucking the fabric to fall correctly on his frame. “He brought me flowers,” you muse quietly. Chanyeol’s brows raise, “Oh?” You fight a gentle smile breaking across your cheeks, “It was more than just flowers.” The man in front of you remains silent, waiting for you to explain. “Every flower he brought is a remedy for something he thought I might be suffering from. Fatigue, stress, imbalance, anxiety.” “Oh,” Chanyeol says with a quiet whistle. “That is something,” he confirms. “Yeah,” is all you can manage. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?” says the Knight Captain as he reaches for the door. ______________________________________________ The following day everything seems to be normal, sans the presence of the curious Yixing. Well, as normal as they can be when your kingdom is suffering a scourge of undead Draugers that seem more powerful and numerous than usual. That is, until the evening rolled around and two Physician assistants and another soldier burst through the door of the ward carrying a man screaming in agony. Dark blood, nearly black, spills from his sides along with… oh. Oh Maker that’s his intestines. Your body reacts automatically, propelling you forward to help them heave his convulsing form onto a bed. “Get that cart over here now and give me a basin of water!” you shout at the assistants. They disperse, leaving you and the soldier at opposite sides of his bed. “What happened?” you bark at the healthier man. “Um,” he starts, lip quivering as he doesn’t know what to say in his shock. Your tongue feels as sharp as your eyes as you begin cutting away the clothing of the bleeding man, “Spit it out.” “He was fine,” he tries. “Just got back from the latest battalion. Had some minor wounds and scratches but he wasn’t sick.” Water sloshes over the side of the basin as you dunk a rag into the depths of steaming water with urgency, squeezing some out onto the floor before you press it as gently as possible to his side. “I need a spool of gut thread and a candle,” you order the assistants, ripping open a drawer and procuring a vial of dried minced garlic. The soldier continues, “We were just walking back from the mess hall when he doubled over and then his skin burst open like this.” ________________________________________ Six hours later, you’re seated in Frost Flower Inn with three empty pints in front of you. You twirl a goblet of mulled wine between your fingers, staring into the deep crimson liquid. A bad idea to switch to this since it reminds you of blood. You’d seen too much blood today. Too much blood that ended in a loss of life anyway when you couldn’t get the tissue to stitch. You replay the scene in your head over and over. Hearing him scream as your thread ripped back through the necrotic skin of his side like butter, no matter how gentle you tried to be. It makes you shiver, fighting down the bile that rises in your throat. “Y/N, are you going to be okay?” a voice asks. You glance up to see someone leaning toward you from the opposite side of the table, but you don’t raise your head. Thick leather cuffs garnish the wrists of this man. Whoever it is, they sit, and two feline eyes peek into your field of vision as he drops his head onto the table to look at you. “I’ve never seen you in here drinking more than one pint, and certainly not of your own will,” Minseok observes as he watches you. A miniscule part of you hates how observant he is. You groan around another mouthful of wine, raising your brows at him as you knock it back, “I just want to be left alone.” “Trouble in paradise?” Asks a new voice. One you don’t recognize as well, but when you meet the eyes of its owner, you are vaguely familiar with his face. Something about arrows calls to your mind when you see him. Minseok sighs, “I’m not going to let you have another if you don’t tell me what’s got you so drunk.” You lower your head, jutting your bottom lip in your best pout to serve him a glare, “Don’t you like coin though?” The shorter man laughs happily at your honesty, “Of course I do. How do you think I run this fine establishment without it?” The second man drops down onto the bench beside Minseok, motioning for drinks at the bar. “I’ll buy the next round, but only if you tell,” he promises with a curled smile and crescent eyes. “I hate you,” you mumble into the last dredges of your wine. Minseok laughs again, drumming his hands on the table, “No, you don’t. You hate drinking and yet here you are anyway.” A face without a name brings three frosted pints to the table and before you can reach for yours the arrow boy grabs it and tuts at you. You pause briefly, looking at the condensation begin to drip down the side of the mug. “Fine,” you breathe, and he passes it to your waiting fingers. “These Draugers are awful. Knight Captain Chanyeol says they’re not like anything he’s ever seen before. They’re too smart and too coordinated to be regular old undead,” you say. The men nod in understanding while you continue, “I believe it, too. More and more soldiers are coming back with wounds that are becoming truly problematic.” A dog whine breaks out as you pause. Turning your head, you see it sitting at a table with four women begging for a piece of meat from a plate in the center. All of them women are watching you, clearly invested in your story. None of them are wearing typical ladylike attire, either. In different styles of armor with gear and weapons- they look like an adventure party, passing through. Ignoring them, you turn back to the men. “I don’t know much about war or about Draugers but I do know what kind of wounds they inflict,” you say, vividly remembering for the fifteenth time this evening what you experienced only hours ago. “Chanyeol didn’t report any dead and all of the soldiers that were gravely wounded came straight to the ward when they got back from outside the walls,” you whisper. With a deep breath, you clutch the icy glass in your palms and take a deep swig. Closing your eyes, you explain in the simplest terms what you saw. “A soldier was rushed into the ward today with his intestines hanging from a gaping hole in his side. I tried to sew it shut but,” you choke, shaking your head and feeling the frustration and despair of the afternoon amplify with the alcohol. “His companion said he had returned with the party with minor wounds. Some scrapes and bruises, nothing too bad, so he never came to the ward. But then it burst open suddenly this afternoon. The skin was so black and dead my stitches wouldn’t hold.” You don’t dare to glance at the faces of the men sitting across from you. “It smelled terrible. Not like a normal healthy body. It smelled like rotting corpses,” you explain to them. “Then he died, screaming in agony and bleeding out all over the floor while I couldn’t do anything to help him. I didn’t even have time to give him a sedative and stop the bleeding.” When you lift your head just enough to peek at Minseok’s face from under your lashes, he’s wearing an unreadable expression. The sharp-eyed man with dark hair beside him looks like he might be sick. The youthful owner extracts himself from the table, leaving you to watch his back with a knitted brow. From your peripheral, you can see most of the adventure party eyeing your table. One of them is watching Minseok with a look of worry. He returns to your side moments later, expertly balancing a platter full of frothy mugs on one palm. He slams three down on your table and carries the remaining to the table of women. You watch, surprised when he bends down to give the same woman a lopsided half-smile and her expression lights up. In all the years you’ve known Minseok, he’s never been interested in women affectionately. Looking at the golden liquid in your melting glass, you think perhaps it’s been too long since you visited. The mood is still sour but Minseok and Jongdae- you’ve learned- have sat dutifully with you through two more drinks. You know for sure that if you try to stand you’ll surely fall. You feel emotionally charged. Like you’re hopeless and courageous all at once. Ignoring the warnings in your head, you heft your body upright. The hands that steady you are not your own. Nor do they belong to your companions. Instead, it’s the woman that keeps staring at Minseok. “Easy there,” she chuckles happily. Up close, drunk or not, you think she’s absolutely beautiful. She smiles easily at you and steps away once you’re steadied enough she’s sure you won’t fall over. You try your best to mutter a simple thanks, and she laughs cheerfully again. “Don’t worry too much,” she chirps. “We’re actually here to help out with your Drauger problems,” she grins, giving you a thumbs up with a hand on her hip. Another pair of hands takes yours and you immediately feel less like a piece of shit. “Yisthing,” comes out more slurred than you care to admit to yourself when you see his face. He smiles, “Yes, I’m here.” “Why?” you breathe. His presence feels calming beside you. Irrationally, you’re still irritated with yourself for responding to his affections the way you did. His voice is like honey dripping over your ears when he answers, “I’ve been here all along, dove.” The way he says the pet name is both softly pleasant and exhilarating. Through the haze of alcohol, you believe he isn’t upset with you. He wouldn’t be here with his hands steadying you so affectionately if he were.

“I’ll take her back to the palace,” he announces to the group. Minseok nods with a deep sigh, getting up from the table.

Yixing still holds your hand, afraid you might fall as you sway back and forth in the street. You trip over your own feet, bumping into the hard plane of his chest with a giggle. He smiles at your drunken antics, and you can very clearly smell the mint leaves on his breath with his soft laugh.

If you’re sure of one thing in this moment, it’s the feeling of this man holding you up, and how right it is. With as much grace as you can muster, you lean into him on your toes and let your lips touch his.

A surprised gasp leaves his lips. Slowly, gently, he moves you back to stand solidly on both feet. Clicking his teeth he asks, “Oh? So now you want to kiss me?”

You smile at him, nodding rather than using your words. Your pounding heart catches up with you and you feel dizzy suddenly. It feels like you’re spinning, until you see the blur of Yixing’s body rushing forward to collect you in his arms.

Although you wouldn’t know it, he carries you the rest of the way to the palace. He makes his way past the guards who try to rush at him until they realize who he is and who he is carrying. Yixing doesn’t know where your chambers are, but he can put you in a bed at the ward. Maybe that’s not the best idea though.

While he deliberates with himself, slowing his pace as he wanders down the corridor, two men step out in front of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Yixing politely smiles.

The taller of the two grins wickedly, “Oh, my.”

“Ah…Knight Captain Chanyeol, correct? Prince Baekhyun?” Yixing ponders, “Could you help me?”

The shorter man looks at you, cradled against the Apothecary’s chest, “What happened to her?”

“She drank too much. Passed out as I was walking her back,” he explains to the men.

The Knight Captain shakes his head, “But Y/N never drinks unless I force her to. What happened?”

His frown grows deeper as Yixing explains about the dying soldier earlier that afternoon. He nods, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “One of my own. We’re all a bit affected by the news.”

There’s an expression Yixing can’t pin down glazing over the Prince’s face when he glances at him.

“I can take her back. Go on ahead Baek, I’ll meet you in the training pit,” says the tall man after a deep sigh.

The smaller man nods curtly, offering no smile as he rolls his neck and departs down the corridor.

“Thanks,” Yixing replies, slowly maneuvering you into his arms.

Just as he’s about to part ways, Yixing smiles at your form snuggling into the warmth of the silver-haired man.

“You know she’s crazy about you, right?” he asks with a smile that looks a little sad in Yixing’s opinion. “She just has a hard time putting her work aside. Don’t give up though, she’ll come around.”, Chanyeol assures with a dimpled smirk.

Nodding, Yixing smiles gently, touching at his lips as he turns to leave, “I know.”

[hxhrendezvous]

Hunter X Hunter Fanfic - Transfer Student Ch. 5

5. Praise

Alarm sound ringing was blaring throughout the room and I can felt its vibration in my body. The phone was beneath my pillow if I remember it correctly. It sent shiver in my head with each ring. Conscious of my condition, my head commanded, ‘right hand, move!’ and it reached the bottom of my pillow to then turn it off before throwing it across the bed. I could felt my body relaxing again and fell into another deep sleep.

Something push and pull my left arm. It keep shaking my arm but with my eyes closed and without any sound, I could not identify what or who was the suspect. “Miel, wake up.”

I still could not identify who was it, “….who?”

“It’s me Jac. Wake up now or we’ll be late,” his voice was raspy and gentle talking to me.

“Give me five minutes.”

“Okay, only five.”

“Ng.”

Maybe Jac was leaving the room by now cause I didn’t feel anyone shaking my arm again. I could see cloud with little yellow and lots of violet. There was my classmate Erwin he ride a motorbike now even though he only come to school by car. Delivered by his butlers. Now he could ride a motorbike on the clouds. Impressive that the motorbike released cotton candy every time it pass.

“Miel, Miel.”

“Miel.”

“Miel!”

The last scream woke me up. “It’s been twenty now, wake up.”

“Huh? Why?” I muttered a sound with all my might.

“You gotta wake up now, we’re going to our office so Killua can meet our parents and to attend the technical meeting. Do you forget? Even Alluka is up already.”

“Hmm, I’m #teamlayingdown do you forget? I don’t do business cause I’m still young.”

My arms was shaken until my whole body was pulled and rolled down on the floor with half of my duvet still wrapping me.

“AW! So much for a brother!”

“Get up, take a shower, and I’ll be waiting on the table for breakfast.”

He announced while walking away from the room.

When I didn’t see his face anymore I hissed under my breath, “I should’ve not sleep over here last night!”

——————————————————————————————————

Wait, I didn’t have a classmate named Erwin. Erwin is the name of a character from this anime about Titan invading normal people lives. Why do I confuse him with my classmate, is there anyone with similar name?

“Miel, hurry up!”

Ugh, Jac again. It’s just ten minutes since I went into the bathroom he couldn’t wish for me to be finished already. “Miel HURRY UP!”

I still hadn’t answer him. Turning off the faucet I draw the towel from the  hanger. I got changed before getting out of the bathroom and going to the table with the towel still wrapping my hair. What I found after was surprising, “wait, why haven’t you guys have breakfast without me?”

They were all sitting. But, their bowl of rice were still full and the chopsticks were untouched on the side “I insist we’re waiting for you,” Jac said.

Now I understand the situation, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I was late,” I said while hugging Jac by the head. I turned my face on Killua and Alluka’s way still hugging Jac, “Guys I’m sorry let’s have breakfast now.”

“No worries, Miel-san,” Alluka said while gesturing for me to sit down, “Let’s have breakfast.”

Killua muttered nothing and just take his chopstick to begin eating.

——————————————————————————————————

Killua’s pov

“It’ll be thirty minutes for her to be here.” Jac informed us on the table,”I say we have our breakfast first and then” he gestured putting rice on bowl to Alluka,”we put rice on our bowl again. So it seems untouched. She wouldn’t realise a thing. And then we said ‘oh Miel, we wait for you’” he mimicked a facial of someone who’s tired. 

“And then she will hug me to comfort the tired look,” ;okay, that’s probably his whole entire point about this, “How about it Alluka? It’s not like we don’t wait for her honestly.”

“I think it was perfect.” Alluka answered.

“You’re agreeing with this?” I shot her quizzical look.

“It will be fun!” She said.

“Right! Right, Alluka-chan! It will be fun!” 

They looks so into the idea of it shouting ‘yay’ and all, and before I realised, a sigh was slowly leaving my breath.

——————————————————————————————

“Don’t forget your padding jacket, guys.” Miel warned.

In the glimpse of my eye, I saw Alluka was pulling Miel’s dress arm. “Miel-san, give me your earring.”

“What? My earring why?”

“Can I have your earring?”

“Well, okay.” She pulled both her earring simultaneously and handing it to Alluka. “This is it, here you go.”

Alluka was making a wish?! I didn’t know when and where Alluka going to make one. But this time seemed to still be safe enough request from her. “Alluka…” I said.

“Miel-san give me your bracelet.”

“Hm, Killua what happened to her? Why is she requesting such things from me?” Miel asked.

“It’s okay, just grant her request.”

“Hmmm,” Miel hummed while taking out her bracelet to then be given to Alluka, “here you go.”

Alluka received the bracelet before asking again, “gimme your ring.”

“Alluka if you wanted to dress up you should tell me beforehand. We have plenty of time in the house.” She said handing in the ring.

It’s time. Alluka face turn into Nanika. Miel took a good look at her and back at me, mouthing ‘what happened?’. Bead of sweats fell on the corner of my face. This is Alluka’s power. With three request granted, she can grant any wish without effect for the person who was making the wish.

“You can make one wish,” I said to Miel, “make a good one.”

“Wish? Uhhh, I kinda feel perfect today, not feeling like making any wish,” she thought for a moment with closed eyes, “uh, then, Alluka, smile for me.”

Hearing that, Nanika turned back to Alluka and flashing her a perfect white grin. “Miel. Like.”

“You turned back,” Miel turned to me, “what the hell is that?”

“No, nothing big.” I said scowling at Alluka.

—————————————————————————————————

Snowfrid Industries. The company building was beautiful. I couldn’t say or describe exactly what makes it so, but for a technological company their office didn’t look industrially boring. Maybe they have another place for the technical works. The glass wall and color too were futuristic without losing its humanity touch. There are many kind of robots as Miel gave a little tour by some floors. Such a well-thought structure and well-designed interior probably was the reason it looked so beautiful in my eyes. I like the place.

Alluka and I was following Jac and Miel towards 7th floor of the building.  It was where the meeting held. Wonder if I’d met their parents before reaching the designated floor. Miel still holding her brother’s arm, seemed to be the work of refilled rice bowl this morning.

It was 8:50, two adults are approaching us when we were near a two handled door, ”Jac and Miel” one of them, the woman greeted, “ara, you brought Killua too. And… who is beside him?” I assumed that is their mother.

“It’s Alluka-chan, Mother.” Jac replied. “Good morning, Father.”

He chuckled heartily greeting his son back, “Good morning my children.”

“Dear, they brought Killua already.”

“Oh, really?” His eyes widened, “where is he?”

“Here, Father, this is Killua and his sibling Alluka.” Miel introduced us.

“Hello, Killua-kun and Alluka-kun. How was it here? Feeling cold huh?” the Oldman said tightening his jacket, “It’s always minus 10 degree here.” 

“Killua-kun we’ve heard everything about you from your family. You’re the destined heir at such a young age and the most talented in your family. We’re so lucky to have you with us,” the Mother spoke with hand clapped, “how about your Hunter Exam did you pass it?”

“Hm, yes, I got my Hunter Licensed already.” I replied in a small voice.

Both parents were surprised for my achievement. Miel and Jac looked proud as well. They sang praises and admiration for me just over a single card I got in an easy exam. 

When’s the last time I felt both parents to show proudness over me. That was not over killing people.

My mood got better. I was smiling through the small chit-chat I had with the people. It must be 9 o’clock as the Father suggested we continued after meeting. “Killua-kun and Alluka-kun how about joining us in the meeting.”

Jac interrupted, “Is it okay, Father?”

“Hahahahah, of course. We’re family now. He can see for himself what we’re doing here.” 

After agreeing, we went into the room. I pulled Alluka by her elbow, placing her on the chair on my right side. I sat on Miel’s right, as Jac and their parents so on. They started with recapping the latest black boots that were going to be used by Miel.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Could/Should/Did: Slade Wilson-Intro

Slade Wilson x reader

Word Count: 1025

Summary: You show up to the Venezuela job, and it naturally drags up some unpleasant memories.

In retrospect you should have been more suspicious when you saw the contract that requested you specifically. The money and your curiosity were just too good at motivating you into caving to your temptation. The money to be gained for the (rather long) job would set you up for a good long while, so really it wasn’t that surprising that you took the job in Venezuela. Accepting the job was the easy choice, really.

You travelled down to the remote militia base, met with the kid that would be your employer, resolved to adopt the kid (at least in your head) because you liked him right off the bat, and got the specs for what he needed (a mask and remote vehicles, easy.)

It was only once you were ending the meeting (and a tour of the compound where you’d be working that the kid, Jason, let a key piece of information slip, “I researched some of your work before I put out that contract.”

You barked a laugh. “I would hope so! I wouldn’t pay that price unless I knew what I was buying was worth it. How’d you get my name, anyway? Not many people know to suggest me for stuff like this.” You chose to be relatively anonymous that way; it was good for business. The idiotic requests were less likely to reach you if they didn’t have a name to look up.

“That would be me,” a familiar voice made you whip around as it spoke up. Sure enough, standing there in a pair of sweatpants and a close-fitted shirt, was your ex-husband.

“Slade,” you greeted in a carefully neutral tone. As always, your heart rate spiked at the sight of him. Given that the divorce was one of precaution rather than a product of lost love, the two of you were as gone for each other as you’d always been.

“Y/N.” You could tell that his usual nickname for you--Sweetheart--was on the tip of his tongue even as he made himself be more formal.

“Any particular reason you recommended your ex-wife of all people?” Distantly, you were aware of Jason’s amused expression as he watched the exchange.

“Kid needed the best. That’s you.” The one-eyed mercenary leaned a little closer to mutter, “I like the kid and want him to live. He needs the help,” under his breath where your new boss wouldn’t hear.

A scoff made your eyes flick back over to the scarred young man. “Alright, you two clearly need to talk, and I’ve got other shit to do. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“I’ll have the preliminary designs for you tomorrow!” you called to his retreating back.

Jason waved a careless hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

Slade was quietly chuckling when you turned back to face him. “Com one; I’ll show you where you’re staying. You won’t be in the barracks with the troops.”

“Let me guess: you, me, and the boss have a separate building?”

“Perks of being the important ones, sweetheart.”

“Slade . . .” your voice was warning. “We can’t get along this well; you can’t call me that.”

“Relax. No one’s listening, and we’re both professionals. It’s just a job.”

“Remember that, then.”

“Yes, dear.” You were rolling your eyes when he gestured at the door, and the kid’s at the far end of the hall. I’ll leave you to work.”

You bit your lip as he made to leave. “Slade?” you called against your better judgement. His lone, steel blue eye turned to look at you. “Thank you . . . For recommending me, that is.”

A roguish smirk quirked the corner of his mouth up. “Missed you too. Dinner is in the mess at seven.”

You sighed. “Right.” Feeling like your body was on autopilot, you retreated into your room and shut the door. Another sigh left your lips as you rested your forehead against the cool wood. “Right.”

~

The only source of light were the intermittent flashes of the lightning that accompanied the raging storm that casted everything into a strange sort of stop motion. The only sounds you could hear were the pounding rain that felt like rubble falling down onto your skin and the frantic panting of your own breath that you just couldn’t seem to catch.

The scene before you was an unfortunately familiar one. You were surrounded by human silhouettes that stayed shadowed despite the strobing light. With every flash, they seemed to teleport closer, drawing swords as they neared. Even with the low visibility you knew exactly who they were. The League of Assassins, come to kill you for some slight against them committed by Slade years before.

You were forced to stand your ground because of the cliff behind you. Only a few feet sat between you and a hundred-foot drop into a roaring river. A pistol was clenched in your dominant hand and a knife in the other. “You’ll never take me to him alive,” you snarled, voice only sounding slightly breathless. You knew their plan, and you’d be damned if you allowed Ra’s Al Ghul to get ahold of you.

“Your death could be easily rectified,” one of the shadows hissed.

There was a rhythmic pounding sound suddenly pulsing through the air. Much like the situation, it too was familiar to you; you knew precisely who and what that was.

As the helicopter rose above the cliff you grinned the bloodthirsty grin of a feral hyena. “Not if you don’t catch me!”

And your body exploded into motion. Just like in your memory, Slade was hanging from a rope ladder, arm extended to catch you. Only the next few seconds differed from your memory of how this scene played out. Critically differed.

Your jump was just a whisper too short, the chopper a breath too high, the outreached hand a sneeze too far away. You were falling down into that churning river of certain death. You were dimly aware of Slade screaming your name in anguish.

The panicked shout of, “Slade!” was just leaving your lips as you slammed your eyes. It was only a dream. A nightmare, really, but it was no less imaginary either way.

[mystrangerfics]

Love Affairs

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Description: Anon Requested Prompt 68 “This isn’t what it looks like!”

Word Count: 4325

Complete Story Warnings: Language & Sex Mentioned

__ __

You stood outside of Tina's house as people kept going by you, entering the party. You were trying to work up the nerve to go in and also trying to figure out if it was worth it. You knew your boyfriend would most definitely be inside but you didn't know if you could face him and if you did, did you want to do it at a party that everyone from school was at? 

You had told Billy that you loved him on your last date and he had stared at you with this odd face before he screamed at you to get out of his car. You had done as he said and expected him to call you when he calmed down but he didn't. He had avoided you all week and never picked you up for the party. So here you were, trying to decide if you should even bother trying to talk to him. The only thing keeping you from just giving it up was that you really did love him. 

"(Y/N)?" You jumped upon hearing your name, being awakened from your thoughts and turned to see who owned the voice. 

"Oh. Hi Steve," you said with a small smile and awkwardly swayed a little in your spot. 

"You going in?" He asked, taking his hand from his jeans pocket to motion towards the door. 

"I uh… I'm not sure yet," you confessed before sighing a little and running a hand through your hair. "Trying to get up the nerve." 

Steve gave a small smile as he looked a little confused by your statement but shrugged. "You want some company?" 

"Steve?" You asked suddenly, turning to fully face him now. 

"Yeah," he asked with a small smile at you, seeing how distracted you seemed. 

"Have you ever told someone you loved them and had them ignore you for a week?" You asked, rambling it all out. 

Steve's eyebrows quirked together a little and he smiled before shaking his head. "No but I did fall for someone who was in love with somebody else." 

"Oh, yeah," you said and pursed your lips a little. "I'm sorry. Stupid question." 

"Nah, don't worry about it," Steve said genuinely with a shrug. "It's better this way. Who wants to be with someone that doesn't want you, you know?" 

Steve's sentence sunk in and you nodded a little. "You're right. Thank you, Steve," you said with a small smile at him. 

"Anytime," he told you. He stepped up onto the porch and motioned to the door. "You ready?" You nodded and sighed a little, shaking your nerves away visibly. He opened the door for you and you went in. "Good luck," Steve told you before he gave you a reassuring smile and wave before heading off towards the kitchen. 

The party was in full swing at this point, being almost ten at night, people were pretty drunk. You swayed a little as you made your way through the many kids from your school. You found Carol and smiled at her but it fell when you saw how pale her face went upon seeing you. 

"Hey! Have you seen Billy?" You asked over the loud music. 

She kind of made a face at you before sighing a bit. She pointed her finger to the stairs. "I am not getting in this fight. I said nothing." 

"Thanks, Carol," you said quietly as your heart fell into your stomach. You made your way back through the people until you got to the stairs and went up.

When you reached the top you swallowed a little, your eyes already watering. You stomped down the hallway, finally finding your nerve. You came to the door with Billy's leather jacket hanging on the knob and knew he was in there. He had done the same thing with you on multiple occasions. You ripped the jacket from the knob before you threw the door open hard enough for it to bang against something behind it. 

"Who the fuck?!" Billy shouted as he rolled off a girl who screamed and covered herself. His eyes took a second to adjust to the light but when they did, you saw his face pale and his jaw go slack. "This isn't what it looks like!" 

"Oh, screw you, Billy!" You shouted before throwing his jacket at him. He caught it before it hit his face and stood up, holding the blanket to his waist as he tried walking up to you. "We're done. Least I have the fucking balls to say it to your face! Have a great night!" 

"Would you just wait a minute!?" Billy tried grabbing for your arm but you pulled away and went down the stairs. You quickly made your way through the party and Steve spotted you. 

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry," he kept muttering as he quickly moved through the groups of people. "Hey," he said, just managing to make it to the door as you did. "Are you okay?" He asked, he felt stupid as you hung your head and cried. "Aw, shit," he said before sighing a little. "Come on. I'll take you home," he said before putting an arm around you and guiding you out of the house. 

"You don't have to. You just got here," you reasoned and shook your head. "I can walk," you assured.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve said and shook his head. “I’m not making you walk home alone at night.” You reached his car and he opened the door for you, letting you get in. 

He started the car and got himself out of the tight parking spot, heading in the direction of your house. “You still live over by Hopper’s?” Steve asked, forgetting the name of your road. You nodded your head weakly and sniffled, stuck in your own misery. Steve frowned a little but looked back to the road for a moment. “Do you want to grab some drinks from my parents house and go somewhere to talk?” He offered. Steve knew what type of situation you were currently in. One of your best friends was supposed to be Carol but she would not risk getting in Billy’s path because of your fight. He knew you were probably feeling pretty isolated and alone with everything happening.

You started to shake your head before you really thought about it. You knew your parents would be home and you had lied and said you were going to a friends house for the night so you could sleep with Billy and party until you wanted. If you came home early and crying, your mother would grill you and you just weren’t ready to tell her everything yet. “Sure,” you said with a small nod. “I’d like that.”

Steve gave his own nod and a small smile. “Good. Alright.” 

__ __ 

“She took off with Harrington,” Tommy explained for the third time. “She showed up looking for you. She came in with him and when she left he was with her. I’m sure he just wanted to make sure she was alright. Take her home or some shit,” Tommy reasoned. 

“Fucking prick,” Billy muttered and bitterly sipped a beer.

“I wouldn’t really call Harrington the prick in this scenario,” Tommy said. Carol hit Tommy’s arm and widened her eyes a little at him. She didn’t want her boyfriend getting into it with Billy. She knew Tommy was good at fighting but she had a feeling Billy could win. 

“The fuck did you just say?” Billy asked, glaring at Tommy. He slammed his beer down on the table and squared his shoulders, drawing the attention of a few people nearby. 

“Harrington isn’t a prick for bringing (Y/N) home after she found you upstairs with someone else,” Tommy said back, still staying relaxed in his position while Billy tensed up. “That’s all I’m saying. Plus, you didn’t want her anyways, obviously. Perhaps Harrington is just jumping at the chance. One man’s trash is another man's treasure, so they say,” Tommy said before sipping his beer. The look he was giving Billy showed he was taking him down a peg but he kept his tone light and his words careful. 

Billy glared at Tommy before he turned and ripped his beer from the counter, heading towards the door. He slammed the door shut on his way out, leaving everyone looking at Tommy. Half of them wondered if he was crazy, while the other half approved of it. You had never been anything but good to Billy and you were a well liked person by most, no one had wanted to see you both end up together because they knew this would probably be the outcome. They were glad Tommy was brave enough to say something. 

Billy got out into his Camaro and decided he would drive to your house and hope to find you. He had slept with that girl and thought it wouldn’t bother him but part way through it, he realized it felt wrong. He didn’t want this random girl under him, kissing him, he wanted you. It had been an awakening moment for Billy but before he could end it, you had come in and his whole world had fallen apart. Now you were off with Steve Harrington if you weren’t at home. Billy just focused on the road and told himself that you had gone home. 

__ __ 

“I told him I loved him and he just yells at me!” You exclaimed and the liquid in your can sloshed about as you slung your arm. “Tells me to get out of his car and throws the damn door open like he would just push me out,” you said before shaking your head. “Like I told him I slept with someone else or something but oh no! That’s what he does! Ignores me for a week and then goes and sleeps with someone else.” You sat still for a moment before groaning and laying back onto the blanket Steve had laid out for you both to sit on. He had found you a quiet spot near your house to sit and drink. Having pulled his car off the road when he saw a little clearing. 

“Maybe he was scared,” Steve offered and sipped his own drink. He knew at this point you were both a little tipsy and figured he had to be if he was trying to defend Billy. “Like, maybe no one has ever said that to him,” he elaborated as he decided to lay down beside you, thinking it looked comfier. 

“Why do I pick guys that don’t like to be loved?” You asked as you looked up at the starry night sky. 

“I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t like it. I just think he doesn’t know how to feel about it,” Steve suggest and glanced over to you. “He likes you. I mean that’s obvious. You’re the only girl he’s dated for longer than a night,” he reasoned. 

“Well then maybe there’s something wrong with me?” You shrugged and leaned up a bit to sip your drink. 

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Steve assured before he leaned up as well to sip his drink and then smiled at you. You were relatively close to Steve and after breathing him in you realized how good he smelt.

Your mind was swirling with alcohol as you looked into Steve’s brown eyes and you found yourself leaning a bit closer. Steve’s eyes flickered down to your lips and a tiny smirk played on his own. His nose bumped yours a little and suddenly you felt yourself being pulled back by the arm. You shrieked for a second before you looked up and saw Billy. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” You asked as he dragged you to your feet. Steve had quickly hopped up from his spot and looked to you. 

Billy was breathing heavily and pacing now, looking between you and Steve. “You didn’t let me explain!” He roared and walked towards you with his eyes dark with anger. Steve gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you behind him. “Don’t fucking touch her!” 

“Billy, just calm down,” Steve tried and held his hand out. “Nothing is happening. We were just talking. You can still explain. She was just upset,” he reasoned. 

“You tell me you love me and then you’re out here with him! How am I supposed to believe you?!” Billy hollered, pointing at you over Steve’s shoulder.

“Billy, I told you that I loved you and you screamed in my face and nearly threw me out of your car!” You retorted. “Then I find you sleeping with some other girl! Don’t act like you’re in any place to question me!” 

“Can we just calm down!?” Steve shouted as Billy started screaming back at you. “Both of you just need to take a step back. This isn’t going to go anywhere with you both this mad! Just go home, take the night to calm down and talk this out in the morning! You’re just going to kill each other!” 

“Billy won’t want to talk about it tomorrow. He’ll be sober and just act like nothing matters and he has no feelings.” You were responding to Steve but your eyes glared into Billy’s dangerously dark ones. 

Billy paused his pacing and locked eyes with you, making Steve nervous as he seemed to square up almost. “You don’t think I have feelings!?” Billy roared and Steve felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“You don’t listen! I said, ‘you act like you have no feelings’,” you said with a sigh and looked down. 

“Why would I be here if I didn’t care?!” He asked you and you glanced up to him, your madness fading a little as your eyes watered from all the yelling and stirring emotions. Billy started stalking towards you and you held your ground, keeping your head up, as Billy stepped around Steve. He grabbed your shoulders tightly and shook you a little. “How can you be so blind!?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Billy?!” You hollered and shoved him back a little from you, breaking his grip on your arms. Steve stood close behind you, scared this would become too heated. He knew you were both drunk, very hurt and obviously upset. This was not a good time for you to both be trying to work out your problems. “I’m blind?!” You shoved him back again when he tried grabbing for you, only for him to grab your wrists and hold them down from shoving him. 

“Don’t you see I fucking love you, you damn brat!? You always have to have it your way! Right now! You never give me time to figure out anything! You want an answer at the drop of a hat! I don’t work that way! I need fucking time!” He snapped at you, leaving you stunned and Steve’s eyes were also widened behind you. 

“But you go and sleep with someone else,” you whimpered as your voice broke and Billy’s grip on your wrists weakened a little as his head slipped down. “Not enough to break my heart but you have to stomp on it too?” 

“I’m not doing this here,” Billy said after he looked up and saw Steve trying to awkwardly stare off at the sky. 

“You need to do this! We need to do this!” You hollered and stomped your foot. “You don’t get to just walk away and dream up some bullshit!” 

“What I was just talking about! It’s always right now with you! I am too drunk to do this! I cannot say what I’m feeling without fucking this up! Cut me some goddamn slack!” He hollered back as he got in your face and Steve saw it, he knew you two were destined to work everything out or screw it all up in a huge explosion of anger, because you didn’t even flinch. You stared into Billy’s face unphased as he violently motioned beside your head. 

“Well fine, you can tell your side later but I’m not too drunk to tell you what I’m feeling,” you muttered and Billy licked his bottom lip and leaned back from you a little, watching you carefully. 

“(Y/N),” Steve warned and rested a hand on your arm. “You are tired and angry. Do not do this,” he whispered quietly to you, drawing your eyes away from Billy. You looked into Steve’s brown eyes and saw his sincerity. He shook his head softly, warning you not to do it and your face crumbled before you hung your head and whimpered. Steve quietly shushed you before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll take her home,” Steve quietly told Billy as you kept your head down and cried as you walked with Steve. 

Billy nodded and turned to watch you both disappearing into the darkness, heading back towards the road where Steve was parked. “Fuck!” Billy hollered before he bent down and picked a beer up from the ground, throwing it against a nearby tree and splitting the can that sprayed foam. He dropped down onto the discarded blanket and wrapped his arms around his knees, shaking his head at himself. “Fucking idiot.”  

__ __ 

You woke up with your head throbbing as there was a knocking sound echoing through your house. “What the fuck?” You grumbled hazily as you rolled over in your bed. “What the fuck?!” You said more aware now as you saw Steve standing shirtless beside your bed. 

He held his hand out and tried to calm you. “Nothing happened! Nothing happened! We just fell asleep! You didn’t want to be alone!” 

“(Y/N)?” You heard Billy’s voice from down the hall and sat up quickly in your bed, looking to Steve in a panic. Your bedroom door swung open and Billy looked to you holding the blankets up to your chest while Steve stood by your bed, his shirt in hand. 

“Billy, this isn’t what it looks like!” You said quickly and when he turned to go back down the hall you jumped out of your bed and followed him. “Please, stop! Let me explain!” You begged and grabbed onto his arm. 

Billy grabbed you by your waist and threw you up over his shoulder, going for the door. “Put me down!” You argued as Billy brought you outside to his car and put you in the passenger seat. You quickly glanced around the driveway to see that your parents must have left for work because both of their cars were missing. You saw Steve in the doorway of your house, looking at you in a concerned way.

“Billy?” You asked quietly as he got into the car and slammed it into reverse, spitting gravel as he flung out of your driveway. You yelped a little from the jump of the vehicle and held on as he quickly shifted it into drive. “Billy? Where are we going?” 

Billy was glaring forward and you felt your throat grow dry as he didn’t answer you. You rubbed your eyes a little, having just woken up and pulled your legs up into your seat, hugging them. You normally weren’t nervous about Billy’s temper. Yes he screamed and hollered and sometimes threw things but he had never hurt you. You just were worried this would be Billy’s breaking point, the end of his patience with you. 

He pulled down a dirt road and when it got heavily wooded he stopped and got out of the car, slamming his door shut. “Billy, I’m sorry,” you whimpered when he ripped open your door and grabbed your arm. You only got out when you realized his grip wasn’t painful and he lead you to the front of the car before he grabbed your hips and put you on his hood. He then placed a hand on either side of you and put his face in yours. 

“Talk,” Billy said, looking at you as he seemed to sigh out through his nose, trying to calm down. 

“Nothing happened between me and Steve, Billy. I swear to God,” you said with a frown. Your memory had come back to you in the car and you remembered asking Steve to stay but nothing else had happened. 

“You promise me? Do you fucking swear?” Billy asked and his anger got the better of him for a second and he lifted his hand and smashed it down on the hood. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He said when you flinched a little. “Please don’t flinch, baby. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said and you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“I promise, Billy. I swear,” you whimpered. You sniffled softly as your eyes watered up and you hung your head a little. No longer being intoxicated didn’t make you as resistant to Billy. You didn’t want to say hurtful things and fight him. You just wished you could forget about finding him with another girl but you couldn’t. 

“You-” Billy paused and looked down. His flat hands balling into fists by your sides as he still leaned on the car. “You scared me,” he said quietly and continued to look down, not meeting your gaze. “You can’t just drop something like loving me out of nowhere. It-,” he stopped and sighed a little. “It made me freak out,” he said before looking up at you. 

You frowned and kept your gaze down as you could feel his eyes studying your face. “I’m sorry, Billy.” 

“See, you shouldn’t have to be sorry! What the fuck is so wrong with me that you telling me that you love me makes me act like this?!” He said bitterly but he seemed to be directing it at himself. “Why can’t I love you like I’m supposed to?” He nearly whimpered before turning away from you a little, taking a few steps off the path and staring off into the trees. “It took me sleeping with someone else and fucking all this up to realize that I do.” 

You slowly slipped off of his hood and came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back. “I love you, Billy,” you whispered quietly. You felt his body tense and it felt like he was trying to get away from your sweet words and hold for a moment until he relaxed. 

“I love you too,” he said so quietly it was barely heard. You felt his hand come up and rest on top of yours that were clasped in front of him. “I just need you to give me some time,” he said before turning his head a little, looking back over his shoulder at you. “Can you do that?” 

You nodded softly and snuggled your face against the back of his shoulder. “Whatever you need, babe.” You kept close to Billy until he slowly turned and rested an arm on your waist and looked into your eyes. You softly tilted your head, inquiring on his stare. 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Billy confessed and shook his head a little as he looked down. You gently reached your hands up to rest on his neck and feel his warm skin. “Sleeping with that girl was stupid,” he muttered. 

“I’m sorry I got so mad and that I was so hateful last night,” you told him and he looked at you again. “I also have to confess, I think I asked Steve to stay the night to get back at you,” you admitted with a frown. “Nothing happened but I did it to hurt you and that was wrong.” 

“You were drunk,” Billy conceded with a small sigh. “Plus you were upset. It’s okay,” he said quietly. There was a pause between you both for a moment before Billy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Do you still think I’m a brat?” You dared to tease with a small smile when Billy broke the kiss, his forehead gently resting on yours. 

He smiled and pulled back a bit, shaking his head at you. “Yes, you’re always going to be a brat. My brat,” he told you with a sweet smile before placing another kiss on your lips. “Come on. I’ll take you home,” Billy said after a few moments of peace with you. “I’m sure Harrington has already called the police.” 

“I’m sure he’s sitting at home on my step, waiting for you to bring me back,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Poor Steve. He always gets dragged into everything.” 

Billy nodded his response as you both got into his car and he backed down the path towards the road. He had his arm thrown over the back of your seat so he could look over his shoulder as he went and you watched him. You couldn’t help but take in his beautiful blue eyes as they glanced around, the tone muscles of his chest as he leaned himself back and the way his soft curls fell against his skin.

“What?” Billy finally asked when he got to the road and had turned back in his seat, seeing your stare. 

You shook your head a little and looked down with a small blush. “Nothing,” you said with a small shrug. 

Billy gave you a small smile as he glanced over to you in his passenger seat. “I love you too,” he said, responding to the thought weighing on your mind. You lifted your head a bit and smiled at him before you leaned over and rested your hand on his thigh and your head on his arm. You felt him place a soft kiss in your hair and your smile grew. “Brat,” you heard Billy whispered and you playfully shoved his arm, making him laugh quietly before you pressed a kiss to his mouth.

__ __

Tag List: @jasonscotttrash @shieldmaiden25 @buckysjuicyplums @hargrovesprincess

[twdeadlysins]

No Big Deal

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 1,888

Summary:  Derek and the reader split up in search of their unsub. The reader draws the lucky card when she finds him, but he has a weapon aimed at her lover.

Request: Requested by @lovelyy24 -> Can you please write a Derek Morgan x reader imagine, where the reader is a part of the team and gets hurt trying to save him? (Not badly) ❤️ Thanks in advance 

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, the usual criminal minds stuff? and possible typos

Author’s Note: This is my first Derek Morgan fic, so I hope it’s decent! Thank you @lovelyy24 for the request, I hope you like it! This concept was the only thing I could come up with since it was stuck in my brain ever since I read the request lmao. Anywho enjoy!! 

If you want to be tagged/removed for/from my Derek Morgan fics, then don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message, or leave a comment! The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer, so um don’t attack pls. Any feedback is much appreciated! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

MASTERLIST // DEREK MORGAN MASTERLIST

“Y/N, go front. I’ll round back, ‘kay?” You nodded, pecking your boyfriend’s lips with your guns drawn before splitting up. You and Derek were first on the ‘scene’ since you had gotten a call from Spencer stating the unsub was the person you were on your way to question. The unsub wasn’t a person of interest, he was just a lead on the person you all thought it was, his best friend that was also in the military, Austin, turns out the trail ended right there. The unsub was Christopher White, a father, a husband, and also a serial killer. He was a sniper in the military and brought his work into his personal life… by sniping Florida citizens in broad daylight.  

You slowly swung the front door open and tiptoed around the living room, aiming your pistol swiftly around every corner. After clearing the downstairs entirely, you crept up the stairs, halting halfway when you heard a light bump. Hesitation lasted a split second before you proceeded up to the second floor, not calling for your partner since you didn’t want to alert the unsub of your presence if he was there. You’ve proven countless times to the team and yourself that you could hold your own, even Derek liked to call you his ‘lil badass’ and well… he’s not wrong. 

When you first joined the BAU, you volunteered to go undercover since you were the unsub’s type despite everyone disagreeing other than Derek and Gideon, they had your back since day one. Hotch ultimately gave you permission after numerous pleas and so the operation was a go at the bar where the unsub preyed on his victims. After you flirted and acted like you were going home with him, he pushed you up against a wall in an alley and held a knife to your throat, seething threats in your face about screaming or resisting and the knife would go in your neck. Hotch kept calling your name through your earpiece when you didn’t answer, saying he should’ve never let you do it in the first place before giving orders to move in. Once they approached your location, they lowered their weapons in shock as you were finishing cuffing the man that was twice your size, that night Derek asked you out for drinks… the rest is history. 

The hallway was dark and narrow, the only light source coming from the room on the very end where a lamp sat on a desk. Every other door was closed, so you chose not to search them knowing you’d come up empty and just end up making unnecessary ruckus. Once you reached the doorway, you turned to your left and steadily aimed at the man in question. Your eyes slightly widened seeing that he had his sniper rifle on a stand pointing towards his backyard where Derek was searching. Chris peered over his shoulder with a wicked smirk, knee leaning on the window seat. “I would hand over the gun, agent, or your partner’s death will be all your fault.” 

You nervously swallowed and gripped your gun tighter, never being in the type of situation where the person you cared for was in danger and it was up to you to not get them hurt. Any other time you stand your guard and not give it up, but there was no talking down this unsub, so you carefully placed your gun on the floor and slid it over to him. “Okay, Chris, you got me unarmed. What now?” 

He chuckled after looking into his scope, making you peek over to the grand window that was in front of you to see your boyfriend scoping out the garage. “Don’t you wonder why I do what I do?” Chris proudly questioned. He wanted to tell you his fascinating, disgusting story, but you already had him all figured out. 

“No, I don’t ‘cause I already know why.” His brows went up in curiosity before gesturing his hands for you to continue, to tell him what you thought- rather what you knew. “After being honorably discharged, you missed the thrill of the work you did there. How the trigger felt against your finger, being able to see people at their most vulnerable- when they least expect a bullet to go through their skull, it’s amazing, isn’t it?” You described, hoping to distract him long enough for Derek to get out the garage and into the house so this would be all over. “The best part is that the people you kill… are or were criminals. The criminals who walk the streets keep committing crimes over and over again, and the ones who get out… well who's to say they won’t reoffend? I honestly don’t know why we’re stopping you, you do what we wish we could do,” you smiled convincingly, wanting him to think you were on his side. 

“I’m impressed, agent… but did you really think I’d fall for the whole ‘I’m on your side’ act?’ He said before leaning down to look into his scope and just in time for Derek to exit the garage. “Wait, I gave you my gun! Don’t hurt him!” 

The unsub tore his gaze off the sight and gave you a smug smirk. “I never said I wasn’t going to kill him if you handed over your gun, I said it would be your fault if you didn’t. So don’t worry, it won’t.” He went back to tracking Derek’s movements, waiting for the right time to strike and you were trying to hurry up and come up with a plan… and the plan you came up with didn’t sound the greatest.  

“Y/N, baby girl, you alright? Got anything?” You heard your boyfriend say in your comm and you snapped your orbs over to see him standing still, waiting for you to respond. The unsub’s finger slowly went to put pressure on the trigger, causing you to mentally curse yourself before sprinting towards the unsub. The both of you hurtled through the glass window, rolling through a bed of flowers before ending up in a pool.

The water was ice cold, making you gasp when you breached the surface with the unsub’s shirt still in your grasp. With your free hand, you pushed your soaked hair out of your face as you swam, dragging the unsub with you to Derek who had ran to the edge of the pool. Chris struggled in your grip, splashing water in your face, only for him to get a punch in return from you. 

“Baby, you okay?” Your boyfriend asked with concern, giving you a worried look as he was cuffing the unsub that was now glaring at you face down on the ground. You nodded your head tiredly before you heard car doors slam in the front, making Derek yell that you guys were in the back. 

Derek stepped over the unsub, ordering for Rossi to take him before gingerly helping you out of the freezing water. He whistled, caressing your cheek and inspecting the cut on your forehead that continued to bleed, stopping at the edge of your eyebrow. “Here, baby girl, lets go get this patched up and have you looked at,” he suggested and before you could protest, he gave you the eyebrow raised look that meant ‘nuh uh baby girl, you goin,’ so you rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around him. 

While the EMT cleaned up the cut on your head, Derek was standing in front of you with his arms crossed, watching them aid you and you could tell something was on his mind. When they were finished inspecting you for any other injuries, they gave you the all clear, so you hopped off the back of the truck and grabbed onto your boyfriend’s bicep. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

You stepped in front of him when he stopped walking, but before he could voice his thoughts, Hotch handed back your gun that you surrendered as he informed you that they’d meet you two back at the station you were helping. You smiled as you holstered your weapon, giving him a nod, he knew that the two of you needed to talk, you could see the acknowledgement on your boss' face. 

“Things tonight could’ve been a lot worse, like a lot worse and it would’ve been my fault,” your boyfriend said, causing you to feel guilty. He shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened, it was not his fault at all and it pained you to know that he thought that. 

You rubbed his arm with your thumb, your eyes soft and sad as you stared into his that were focused elsewhere. “Derek,” you called, your voice small as you laced your fingers with his, grabbing his attention. “He had a sniper rifle aimed at you… he was going to… he was going to pull the trigger and I had to stop him… I had to-” Your boyfriend eloped you in an embrace despite you being drenched, cradling your head as you snuggled into his chest, tightening your arms around his waist. You mentally sighed, glad that you didn’t have to explain yourself further, he knew and you didn’t trust your voice to. 

After standing there for what felt like hours, he loosened his grasp on you and held your cheek. “You saved my life and here I am being a baby about my damn feelings.” You chuckled and covered his hand with yours before lifting his palm to your lips to kiss. 

“You’re not being a baby, Derek… your feelings are valid, but don’t feel guilty. We separated to cover more ground and in the end we got the sonuvabitch.”

“You got the sonuvabitch,” he corrected with a smug grin, proud of you, his lil badass girlfriend. You playfully shook your head as he wrapped his arm around your neck while you did the same around his waist, walking in the road towards the car. “And you got a booboo in the process… I’m sorry, baby girl and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Eh, it’s no big deal.” You shrugged your shoulders and peered up at the man you adored, seeing him smile down at you with so much love. Derek pecked your head before you felt him pick something off the top of it, causing you to jerk your head back with questioning brows. Derek’s brows were raised up with amusement as he held a wet flower in front of your face before tossing it on the ground. You scoffed in disbelief, but with a smile as you pushed your boyfriend away from you, making him lose his balance and chuckle while he regained it.

“Oh. My. God. That’s why Hotch and the EMT looked at me funny! Derek Morgan, you are so getting it! Why didn’t you tell me!” Derek bolted down the road when he saw the irritated, but mischievous look in your eyes before you chased right after him. Once he peeked over his shoulder to see you hot on his tail, he turned around, making you jump into his arms instead of colliding into his chest. The two of you had the biggest grins on your faces as you giggled at one another before you brought your head down, giving him a passionate kiss.

[kilyra]

The Lines Were Blurred

Frank Castle (Punisher) One-Shot from prompt idea

A/N: I received an Anon request for Frank from an unbelievably patient Anon with the following prompts from “100 Dialogue Prompts to Break a Reader’s Heart”: 42. “I’ve spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn’t think of me once?”, 83. “You never get what you want. Haven’t you learnt that by now?”, and 86. “I should never have trusted you.”. Because it worked SO well with the reader paring from “Your Side of the Line”, I decided to make this into the Part 2 of that.

Following your captain’s odd but simple assignment, you were more than a little stunned to find Frank Castle at the site.

Warning: Swear words and a bit of angst. No spoilers though

NOTE: If you want to be on a Frank (or everything) tag list, let me know :)

A dead body. It was definitely the body of a large, dead man crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs that led to the warehouse's side entrance. 

Shit.

Drawing your sidearm, you ignored the rush of adrenaline as you leaned into your shoulder mic.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” a gruff voice interrupted from behind you.

Spinning on your heel, you raised your gun, levelling it at the chest of the man standing there. His hands were already up, palms facing you.

“Shh, shh, shhh, hey...Y/n, it's me.”

Frank fucking Castle.

Of course.

It was supposed to be a simple shift. Odd, but simple.

But, the second your captain sent you on your own to canvass a neighbourhood near where a child had gone missing, a quiet red flag started waving in the back of your mind. The assignment was innocent enough -  basic door-to-door duty. But alone? You assumed each unit was being split up to cover as much ground as the precinct could in a short amount of time. But it was still odd.

When you arrived at your section, another red flag rose. It wasn't even a residential area.

As you got out of your squad car, there was something so thick about the air that your curiosity shifted to concern. You couldn't explain it, but something was wrong. Finding the body was almost a relief. If nothing else, your gut feeling was still trustworthy. 

Finding Frank there, however...

Keeping your eyes on him, you nodded to the body behind you. “Was that your handiwork?”

“Yes, it was. And there were two more stationed in the back.” There was no hint of shame in his tone as he firmly stated the fact.

“Dammit, Frank, I never should have trusted you.  I asked you not to put me-”

Everything inside of you froze as his words repeated in your mind. Stationed. Stationed in the location you were sent to.

"Why...why would you say stationed?”

Eyeing your gun for a moment, Frank slowly relaxed his hands. “Because it isn't just Homeland involved. Turns out they needed local allies on the ground.”

Glancing to the side, it didn't take long to process his implication. Your captain was involved. The red flags from that assignment weren't the first to be raised in your mind – he was a bit of a hothead and sometimes his judgment felt rash. But this?  

Swallowing heavily, the strength seemed to drain from your arms as you lowered your weapon. “No. No, that can't be right. It doesn't make sense.”

Narrowing his eyes, Frank tilted his head to look past your shoulder at the body on the ground. “Is that right? I'm not sure how else you explain why you were sent, alone, to an abandoned warehouse where there were three hired guns waiting for you.”

A sinking feeling pulled at your gut, the truth settling in well before you were ready to accept it. “What makes you think they were hired? How do I know they weren't just a group of homeless people taking shelter here or something?”

Sighing, Frank raked his fingers through his short hair. His jacket opened slightly as he lifted his arm and you could see the bulletproof vest strapped to his chest. You didn't miss the blood splatter. "They knew how to handle themselves. I'm willing to bet that if you ran their names, you’d see they're former military and worked with a few security companies in the city. It fits the profile of the mercs Homeland trusts to do its dirty work on home soil." 

And they were there for you.

“Even if I believed that, it still doesn't explain why they're here.”

After running his hand down his face, and pausing long enough to rub his fingers against his eyelids, he dropped his arms in a shrug. “My guess is they either know you won't play ball...or they think you know something.”

“And what do they think I know, Frank?” The sick feeling that crawled up your throat quickly turned into a little, angry flame. Even though you knew the answer, you couldn't stop yourself from asking.

“Me...I'm guessing. Our connection wasn't exactly a secret.”

The little flame exploded into a hot, roaring fire that raced through your chest.

“Goddammit, Frank!” Roughly, you slammed your gun back into its holster before you thought about using it.

Dropping his gaze, the muscles in his cheek rolled as he clenched his jaw but stayed quiet.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Since you left my apartment that day, I've spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn't even think of me once? You didn't stop to think that this crusade of yours might lead back to my doorstep? Especially once they realize it's you?”

His nostrils flared as his eyes snapped back to yours. “Didn't think of you, huh? What the hell do you think I'm doing here then? It's not my fault your boss is crooked, but you can bet your ass I've been watching you ever since I figured it out.”

Balling your hands into tight fists, you felt your knuckles popping from the pressure. Your words were forced through grit teeth. “I don't want to be a part of this. I just want to go to work, do my job, and go home again.”

Softly scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, you never get what you want. Haven't you learnt that by now?”

“Fuck you, Frank.”

He stared at you as his eyebrows shot up. “Fuck me? Fu-”

Letting out a hard huff, he gave his head a sharp shake. “Fine. Yeah, sure, fuck me then. Fuck me. But if you don't get your head out of your ass, you're going to get yourself killed or worse.”

You couldn't help your glare as you pushed back your NYPD jacket to plant your hands on your hips. “Oh, worse?”

Frank's eyes softened as he watched you, the brief show of anger quickly melting away. “These men might not have been sent to kill you. If they do realize I’m the one coming for them, they might be here to try and find out what you know about me. And if that's the case...death would be a welcomed relief.”

Your moment of anger also died away as the gravity of your situation hit. Dropping your hands, you crossed your arms over your chest, like you could hide the sudden shift. Hesitantly, you glanced over your shoulder. “So...so what am I supposed to do then?”

Pulling something out from his jacket pocket, he reached his hand towards you, nodding to take it. It was a handful of nails and screws. As you stared at the random assortment of sharp objects, your eyebrows tightly pulled together.

The softness of Frank's expression extended to his deep voice as he explained. "You go back up the street, three blocks from here. That's the start of the security camera blackout zone they set up. You get out, throw this under your tire and roll over them until you get a flat."

Slowly, you raised your gaze until you were staring at him with confusion. As his dark eyes bore into yours, you realized he had closed the gap and the faint smell of leather drifted over to you. The scent was like a stab to your chest as you realized just how much you missed it.

"Blackout zone? How do yo-"

“Don't ask me how I know, just trust me. You can't call this in. I'll take care of these guys, but your captain can't know you made it this far. All he can know is you got a flat up the street and never had the chance to canvass this area, got it?”

If they did suspect you had information on Frank, this would at least buy you some time.

A calm fell over you like a blanket as you pocketed the handful of nails. Frank was right – it wasn't his fault your captain was dirty. Your captain, and likely several of your colleagues, made a choice and it's one he knew you would never make. Even if Frank wasn't involved, you'd still be in a bad situation, only you would be completely oblivious.

“And then what am I supposed to do?”

Frank's eyebrows relaxed as you all but agreed to do as he told you. “Take whatever vacation time you have left – a relative out of state died or something. If you won't actually leave town, then you need to at least lie low at Curtis'. You'll be safe there.”

Of course Curtis would be involved.

“And before you get back, put in for a transfer to a different precinct. You won't be safe here until this is done. I'd suggest Brett Mahoney's station.”

That name was familiar. “He's...pretty far outside of my territory though. I don't know that-”

“Then move in with Curtis, he's right nearby. Hell, tell them you’re deeply in love and use the move as your reason for transferring,” he said sharply, cutting you off.

Pursing your lips together, you nodded. It wasn't the time for doubt. The numb blanket hardened around you – it was the time for following what appeared to be a decent plan.

“Got it?”

Nodding again, you offered a small, half-smile. As he returned it with a hollow, lopsided grin, you were suddenly aware again of how close you were. Something inside screamed out to lean into him, to hold him, to let your lips find his. Forcing that back, you set your hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze.  

The lines were blurred, but you didn't need to make it worse.

“Thanks.”

Grunting quietly, he shuffled his heavy boots in the gravel as he moved out of your way. 

It was supposed to be a simple shift.

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