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writingsfromhome · 3 years ago

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Sorry x Rare

A/N: I got two lyric requests for Sorry by Beyonce and Rare by Selena Gomez. They were both sort of two sides of the same coin so I wrote them together it mostly goes from rare to sorry. Thanks for the requests, fingers crossed it lives up to what you wanted! <3

Synopsis: You and Harry have been together for a long time but he’s not the same man you fell in love with anymore.

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I move my dinner around on my plate, my gaze on the man pacing outside the restaurant on his phone. My man. But it didn't really feel like that these days. These days, Harry was a stranger to me--late nights, phone calls interrupting dinner, waking up to find him gone and not even sure if he'd come home at all.

I watch him remove the phone from his ear in a rush, stare at it, and then shove it aggressively in his pocket. He walks back in, cheeks pink and huffing.

"Should we ask for the bill?" He sits down in a flurry. I stare at his barely-eaten meal and my own dinner mashed to bits.

"We've barely had dinner."

"Babe, we've been here for over an hour since..." he takes his phone back out to inform me of how much time exactly but something must catch his attention because his sentence dies on his lips. I stare, he was so distant lately. "I'll drop you off at home, I've got to meet the boys they decided to talk business-"

"It's 8pm on a Thursday," I state the obvious. "Can't you catch up with them la-"

"This isn't an argument Y/N," Harry finally looks at me. He was done discussing it. He lifts his hands to the waiter and a minute later dinner's been paid for. He wasn't my baby, I think as we stroll outside to his car. I don't know who this man was.

***

I wake up the next morning with the weight of Harry on the other side of the bed. I could smell him, the booze sitting in his pores.

“Ugh,” I groan, not wanting to smell that first thing in the morning. I get up and start my day before I head to work. Soon, Harry appears squinting as I stir sugar into my coffee.

“I need a coffee,” he says, his voice hoarse. It used to sound sexy but now it was just another reminder that things changed. We lived like roommates and it hurt that he never wanted to talk. Half the time, he acted like I wasn’t even there.

I watch him settle with his coffee, taking the first sip and letting out a deep breath. A memory comes to me suddenly, the first year we were dating,

“I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had,” it was the first night Harry had stayed the whole night and I’d made him coffee in my outdated coffee maker. It came out burnt half the time but that morning’s cup was decent. We’re swaddled in my blankets--the room I rented back then had poor circulation in the winter.

“I think you’re still slightly drunk,” I lean my shoulder against his and cup the warm drink. “I’ve definitely had better coffees.”

“Maybe coffees are just better the morning after,” he says, glancing at me and I know he can see the flush on my cheeks. He knew I was shy talking about certain things in the light of day.

“We can say that,” I mumble into the cup. “It’s just nice to have a heat source.”

“Here,” he takes the cup from me and reaches over to put both on the nightstand.

“Hey I wasn’t done with that.”

“I know but if you’re cold, I know this other heat source--it even works for hypothermia.”

His statement causes a blood rush that warms me already but I don’t say no to what he has in mind. I could make us another cup later.

Harry catches me staring when he looks over and raises an eyebrow. I snap out of my thoughts and twist my lips into a smile, looking back at my own drink bitterly. Who was this man in front of me? Out loud, I ask: “How was your night? You came in late.”

“I was out with the boys.” he says in a tone that meant he didn’t want to talk about it. “It got late.”

“A text would’ve been nice,” I say, still looking at my cup.

“S’not like you were waiting up,” he turns to walk back towards the bedroom.

“Learned not to,” I mumble but I know he’s heard me with the way he pauses. But he didn’t care enough to argue, dispute it, nothing. He leaves.

***

"Guess who just made a commission that's more than I used to earn in a year?" April walks into the small office, an infectious grin on her face.

"You sold him on it?" I put away the file I'm working on and jump up to hug my friend.

"I had to flirt a little--give him a vivid picture of what he could have there, and he signed! I'm bloody brilliant."

April was my American ex-pat who I met when she was looking for a flat a few years ago. And now here she was, working for me at the small real estate office I managed with a few other people I considered friends.

"Do you know if he was single?" I tune back in to hear Janelle asking.

"No, don't give her bad advice!" I scold Janelle. “We don’t date clients.”

"I'm miserably single," April pouts. "I'll take advice even if it’s bad."

"Bad advice is to stay with your college sweetheart to the point where you're not sure he even cares about you." I say to no one in particular. It was just us in the office today, and they knew everything about my life so I didn't care much. But the pin-drop silence that follows is different. I look up to see my friends eyeing each other. "What?"

"Nothing." They stay tight lipped but I push and they crack. "Well, so...we know things are rocky between you and Harry..."

"Things aren't rocky," I clarify. "They're just...nonexistent."

"Right," April slides closer. "Soo, we saw him at the club yesterday."

I raise my eyebrow, "He told me he was meeting up with his boys."

"Oh!" They sound surprised I know, but they look at each other again so I push them. "He was...there was a girl? Sitting on his lap for most of the night? Like, nothing happened I don't think so?" She turns to look at April at the end of each sentence.

Personally, I feel gut-punched even though I suspected this. I knew he wasn't where he said he was going to be sometimes, or with who he said he was going to be with. But he cut our own dinner short last night to be with strangers yesterday? I grip the pen in my hand.

"Y/N honestly...you know we love you and support you. But, you're a special girl and you deserve better than that sod."

"Yeah," Janelle puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're a gem Y/N. There's someone else out there who's gonna see how rare you are."

"I know," I blow my cheeks out. We'd had different conversations like this before, although never this direct. I guess we'd never had direct proof of what my husband was doing until now though.

"He's an idiot not knowing you're so rare," my friends try to comfort me. I feel my eyes well up and I swipe at them. I wasn't going to cry at work but they must sense the tears because they excuse themselves, "We're going to get you a tea, and some pastries to celebrate April's sale. April?"

I keep my face buried in my hands as they leave, take a few deep breaths. "I am rare," I say to myself but even that makes me laugh bitterly. Harry and I had been together for 5 years and here I was trying to count up all the reasons we should stay together when he didn't even care. He was out with other women, and I was waiting around for him.

"I'm rare," I say again. "I'm special, I deserve better. I...deserve better."

When will u be home tonight? I text Harry before I lose my nerve.

Busy he says. That’s it. And then, Why?

What time? I ask again.

8 or so, he responds.

Okay, we need to talk then. I put my phone away, too scared what he might text back. A tear falls from my cheek onto my keyboard, landing on the letter H. It mocks me. I wipe it off, and before I can think about what I'm doing I smash the letter down with my fist. I stand up and walk to the back of the office, a window overlooks the busy street. I'd had enough, I decide. Fuck Harry.

I’m not sure how long I stand there stewing, but my friends walking in with pastries and tea ends the emotional boiling pot from overflowing.

"Thanks," I take the cup from them.

“So we were talking and...” April looks at Janelle and she nods. “You should come out with us some time. Like...tonight. Dance with us, with other people...”

“I...I’ve got something at 8,” I come up with an excuse. As angry as I was, I wanted to have this conversation. It was long overdue.

***

I check my time again, the last text Harry sent me Ok. But it was 8:25 and Harry still wasn’t home. I’d give him five more minutes, I decide. I’d already tried to ring him with no answer.

I stare at the ring on my finger, it was supposed to symbolize a promise he made to me. What a fucking joke. I should’ve never said I do in the first place.

Was it young love, I wonder. Did we do this too fast and we were just set up to fail? But I remember the good memories, the soft and sweet times between us.

“I-I’ve never done something like this before,” I tell Harry. “I hate heights.”

“Listen,” he crowds around me, blocking my view of his friends who are walking up the narrow trail like it was any old walkway. “You go in front of me, I’ll have my hand on your back the whole time. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

I look up into those gentle eyes and swallow my fear. “Okay.”

“I promise it will be so worth it,” he gushes, his excitement uncaged now that I’d agreed. “There’s no lights there so the stars are so bloody bright--I know you’re going to love it!”

I can’t help it, my lips crack into a smile at his boyish excitement. He catches it and pauses, a breath in this whirlwind of a night. What started out as a house party turned into a walk to a local beach which turned into a hike into the woods and up a precarious--and very steep--ridge to get to an isolated lookout. Only with Harry did I find myself in these situations. And I loved it. I loved him, I realise then. My expression must change because he tugs on my hand, probably worried I’d change my answer.

“Walk ahead,” he instructs and I nearly tip toe on the ridge that’s at least 30 feet across. But his steady hand on my back pushes me gently and I walk across confidently until I look down 2/3 of the way. I freeze in place but Harry’s ready. “Y/N, you’re safe here. Look at me-look...”

I crane my neck and he grounds me, oh my god how did I just realise now how in love I was with him? He squeezes my hand, asks if I was okay. I had to be, I couldn’t stay stuck in the middle.

Inch by inch we finally make it to the other side and I jump off with a yelp which sets Harry off in a burst of laughter. Pretty soon he’s lifted me over his shoulder and carries me to the lookout on the edge. My feet had been through enough, he’d said.

And he was right--it was so worth it; the view with all the stars laid out. The buildings and their light pollution below were blocked out by the outcrops and it made the stars twinkle in all their glory. It made it the perfect place to be with the person I loved.

“Isn’t it the most incredible view?” Harry whispers in awe behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“I.....I have no words apparently,” I laugh and turn in his arms. “Thanks for pushing me, this...it was worth it.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and gazes at me in a way that makes me want to squirm. But I hold his gaze.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asks with a smile.

“Compared to the view,” I glance behind us. “I guess I’m alright.”

“No,” he guides my face back towards his. “This view over that one, any day. M’just that lucky.”

My words die on my lips as I’m overwhelmed by this feeling between us, the one I thought would keep us together like this forever.

He raises an eyebrow when I go silent and I shrug, “I’m all out of words today.”

I close my eyes as he kisses my temple. I turn back around and we spend the moment in silence, drinking in the view. His friends chatter around us but they’re background noise. My life felt like a movie right now.

Before we leave as a group, I tug Harry back. This was a good as place as any to tell him. I press my lips to his, and it takes him a second but he’s kissing me back. Before it can get carried away I push away and tell him what I’d been thinking all night, “I love you.”

He takes a step back, and then he’s grinning and pulling me back. “I love you! I love you listen, I’ve been wanting to say that for weeks!”

“Weeks?!”

“Yeah weeks! My sister said it was too soon, I might scare you off!”

I think about a few weeks ago, I was intensely shy around him even then. Maybe she was right, but the idea that he talked about me to his sister makes me flush. I wrap my arms around his waist “I just...this moment is so perfect. I never want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.” he’d promised. “I’m yours forever Y/N.”

When 8:30 comes and goes I call April, she lets me know where they were. “We’re so happy you’re coming! Are you sure you don’t want us to meet you somewhere else?” she shouts into the phone. When I tell her I just wanted to be where they were she reminds me to text them when I was nearby.

I have to dig into the back of my closet, past the pantsuits I wore to work, the casual dresses and loungewear. I still had some of my old party clothes, just a bit tighter than they used to be. But for where I was going, it would fit in.

Before I leave, I take a pen and scrawl a note: “Great talk"

My friends spot me as I walk in. The music is instantly too loud, the lights too bright, and there are too many people. But one of my them shoves a drink in my hand and pretty soon it’s the best place on earth. It was exactly where I needed to be. I turn off my cellphone and enjoy myself.

After a certain point, I don’t even know who I’m talking to, but pressed up against a body, feeling wanted, it drives me to keep dancing all night. Eventually, I crash at April’s and don’t roll out of hers until 11 the next morning. Harry’s barely an afterthought until I’m tucked in the taxicab taking me home and turn on my phone. 8 missed calls, 2 voicemails and 13 texts.

I’m shocked at the volume, Harry hadn’t blown up my phone like this in over a year. I listen to one voicemail: “Where the hell are you? I come home an hour late and you’re bloody gone with this stupid note here. Pick up! I’ve called you a billion times.”

I stare at my phone, I hadn’t heard Harry this passionate since...well it was a long time. And all it took was going out late and not answering his calls, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It almost makes me angrier; I had to partake in this juvenile dance to get his attention, even though we’d been married nearly 2 years.

He’s on a call when I get home, talking numbers or something. I head directly to the shower, clean up, and take my sweet time. It must’ve driven him mad waiting for me because by the time I’m out he blows a gasket.

“What’s this stunt you pulled last night? Wanting to talk and leaving me a stupid sarcastic note just because I’m late? Where were you?”

“Out,” I shrug. “I didn’t know you were late. You didn’t text.”

“I didn’t tex--oh I see, now we’re being petty yeah?”

That irked me, “I’m not being petty. It’s not like I get the same courtesy when you’re out late!”

“I’m busy, I can’t always be texting you!”

Excuses, I laugh and he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Busy what? Screwing other women-”

“Don’t be making shit up-”

“I’ve had people tell me that they see you with other women Harry! S’not a far stretch!”

That quiets him. Finally, he comes forward to stand inches away. “Y/N, c’mon. You and me...this is stupid. Sure I go out to party but I’m not-”

“Stop.” he was actually trying to talk his way out of this. And because I’d rather step in front of an oncoming train than cry in front of him, I head to the front door and walk out. I’d find someplace to crash today, but I wasn’t doing this.

***

“How’re you doing?” Janelle asks. I’d shown up at her doorstep and she set up her guest bed. She had plans so I spent most of my time burying myself in work, trying to get rid of all that angry energy pent up in me. Janelle had just come home.

“I’m just trying to move on. I don’t want to talk about him, I just don’t care at this point--I’m fed up!”

“As you should be,” she agrees. “Listen, I know we had a crazy night yesterday but I’m going out with some friends today and...maybe it’ll help you?”

I think about the killer headache this morning, but I also remember how good it felt to forget for a bit. I agree. Before I know it, Janelle’s found something that fits me and we’re back at a different club than the night before. Her friends are familiar faces but after a few drinks we’re all best friends. It feels great. Until I spot Harry’s face.

“That’s enough,” his face looms over mine as he pushes away the man I’m up against.

“What the fuck Harry...” I trail off as he pulls me away from the middle of the crowd. I try to pry his hand off but there’s too many people and he’s moving too quickly...and I’ve had a lot of drinks. “Let me go!” I say when we finally step away. We’re in what must be a private room. He seemed familiar with it--of course.

“So just because you heard I’m out and about some nights, you decide to come here and fuck around with random men?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him, he was out of his mind. “I’m out having fun with my friends! I’m not here because of you.”

“Really? You come to the same place I come to all the time and dance with these strangers? And you’re drunk as fuck!”

“Since when did you care?” I ask. “Just leave me alone. You’ve been doing that perfectly fine the last few months.”

“I’m your bloody husband Y/N, you can’t just-”

“Then act like one!” I shout, and in the muffled quiet of the room with the bass thumping through it rings out. “I don’t need you! And you made it clear you don’t need me. These rings are a fucking joke, here-” I take mine off and throw it at him.

“You don’t mean it-”

“I do.” I give him a level stare, suddenly clear-headed. Maybe I’d process it later, but right now I was finally seeing what he’d become. He deserved to feel how I felt, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a fuck. I flip him with both hands, “Quite frankly Harry, you can suck my d-”

“Harry!” A shrill voice rings out from the entrance that now carries the loud beats of the dance floor, swallowing my words. “Liam told me you were here!”

I glance at the brunette in the doorway and back at him. I couldn’t even muster an eye roll; I had enough.

“Y/N!” Harry calls my name as I walk out.

“No it’s me, Becky?!” she tries to correct him. I can’t help but laugh as I make my way back to my friends with a drink in my hand, feeling free.

***

“Y/N, it’s Harry. I don’t know how it got this shite just please call me back. Just give me five minutes that’s all I n--message deleted”

“He’s moved on to the office phone then?” Janelle asks, her desk was beside mine so she’d heard him as I checked my messages. It was two weeks since that glorious night when I’d dumped Harry’s ass. Although a lot of my things were still at our house, I was just staying in a hotel right now while I figured things out. One thing I knew for sure though, I didn’t want to see him again.

“It’s pretty pathetic,” I say. It was also pathetic how long I’d stayed waiting around for us to be magically fixed. But that was something I was working on getting past.

“You’re glowing without him,” April says from where she’s getting her files together. “Haven’t you got that showing out east?”

“Yeah, oh god is that the time?” I rush to get my files in order. “I’ll catch up with you later-”

“We’re still getting drinks after?”

“Yes, drinks!” I call out as I leave the office and head down to the lobby. I don’t expect Harry there, and I barely have time for him as he comes up to keep my pace.

“Harry, I’ve got somewhere to be please leave me alone.”

“Y/N, wait just please listen to me.”

“No.”

“2 minutes!”

“Not even 1,” I spot my cab out front and head towards it. I’m about to get in but Harry holds the door. “Harry let go I’m going to be late.”

“Just let me talk to you, please!”

I finally look at him and he’s quite a sight. His hair is matted and without it’s usual bounce. He’s got a rough look and a 5 ‘o clock shadow.

“You had plenty of time to talk to me for months, you were too busy at the club. Sorry not sorry,” I tug at the door and he lets go, I don’t spare a backwards glance as we drive away.

One of the showings is successful, I manage to sell the family on the home and we set up a meeting to go over details at my office later in the week. I’ve got a bounce in my step as I return to the office. I tell the girls I’d meet them at the bar as I finalize my papers at the office. My bounce falters when I go head out after 5 to see Harry waiting outside the building.

“Y/N,” he calls out when he sees me. “I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

“That’s called stalking,” I say. A few people walking past us turn to glance at him and he notices. He moves to the inside lobby and asks me to follow. With a big sigh I do.

“I know what I did.” he begins.

“Congratulations,” I roll my eyes.

“No wait, I know what I did to you. And sorry can’t cover it. Just let me make it up to you, we have history and-”

“You don’t get it.” I stop his monologue from going any further. “I’m gonna be just fine. Without you. You didn’t care about our history until you couldn’t have me. I don’t know what happened to you Harry, but you’re not the man I fell in love with-”

“I know,” he says, tears of frustration coating his lashes. “I fucked up, I-I didn’t see what I had right in front of me and I just-”

“Let her slip away? Is that the best you can come up with?” I scoff. “You know what Harry? I’m done with this! Boy...bye.”

“Y/N just--” he grabs my arm before I can leave and pushes something cold into my palm. My wedding ring.

“I don’t want this,” I push it back in his hand.

“Please just take it--hold onto it,” he pushes it back into mine and closes my fingers over it. “I can’t...I can’t hold onto it just take it! You don’t even have to think about it-”

“Harry,” I soften my tone. He was desperate and even though some part of me thought it was about time he felt this type of way, my heart hurt a little. I didn’t want him to see that though so I just tuck the ring into the pocket of his button up and pat it. “Goodbye Harry.”

I walk away with my head held high even though he calls out to me. I walk the few blocks to where my friends are waiting and their warm smiles are enough to help me push the memory of Harry’s teary eyes, and the real history we did have once upon a time away. I was done with him, no longer thinking about him.

I just kept telling myself, I was rare like a gem and I had to see that. And maybe one day, someone else will too.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #fic #writingsfromhome #Lyrics #beyonce #selena gomez #this one went through a million round of changes #I'm about done with it now #i hope I didn't miss anythingg

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starr-geek-writes · 3 years ago

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Last Night (Ron Weasley x reader)

(Wrote this a while ago. I don’t know how to do this who ‘authors note’ thing before posts. 🤷‍♀️ Merry Christmas.)

The room was freezing cold. You’d think I’d be used to the temperature after sharing a dorm with Hermione for four years, but tonight I just couldn’t seem to get warm. I got out of bed, my toes pressing against the icey wood floor, and wrapped my blanket around my shoulders, the bottom swooshing at my ankles. My feet padded softly down the stone staircase into the warm common room.

The fireplace flickered and lit the face of a familiar red-head sitting on an empty couch. I smiled as he turned to me. “Ronald Weasley. What has got you up this late?” I teased, sitting next to him and spreading my blanket over his lap to share. He grinned at the gesture and pulled the soft fabric up to his chest.

“I just can’t get my mind to slow down.” He said quietly. I hummed in response and suffled in my seat, pulling my legs under the blanket. “What about you? You don’t seem like the kind to lay awake at night.”

“You’re not wrong. I was just really cold. Hermione likes to freeze at night.” He nodded and looked back into the fire. His freckles glowed orange in the light, clashing slightly with his messy hair. He seemed to zone out and flex his jaw, mad about something in that pretty head of his. “What have you got on your mind?” I asked and nudged his shoulder.

“I’m nervous about quidditch tryouts. And I’m kind of worried about Harry. Professor Slughorn is really impressed by him, but potions have never been Harry’s strong suit. I have a feeling it’s got something to do with that book.” He continued sitting up and frustratedly waving his hands around, turning slightly red.

I gently placed my hand on his elebo, calming him slightly. “This is just a hunch,” I said quietly, “but I think it’s not really about Harry being in the tournament.” I smiled at him as he sat back into the couch. He nodded for me to continue. “You are further in his shadow than you have ever been. And you were pretty far back there, being best friends with the Chosen One.” He looked at me with sad eyes, and I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about it, so I paused.

“Ronald Billius Weasley. You are one of my dearest friends. And you mean the world to me. I don’t care who your best friend is, or whether he’s ever come face to face with you know who. What I care about is that you value yourself enough to not care about how you look compared to others. Because when it really comes down to it, at least in my eyes, you’ll come out on top. No matter what.” I smiled and patted his arm. There was a little tear in his eye, but he quickly turned and wiped it away. I let my statement sit, and eventually laid my head down on his shoulder, moving my other hand to sit on his. He yawned a moment later and draped an arm over the back of the couch. The silence grew and my eyelids fell.

Once they opened again, a few hours had passed, and I was still laying next to Ron. I sat up and stretched, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open within seconds of my movement. I looked at him and smiled. He laughed and spoke quietly.

“Good morning.” He said pushing his arms high above his head.

“It seems to me there is still a bit of night left.” I said standing, and pulling my blanket off of his lap. “So I advise we both get as much sleep as we can back in our dorms.”

“Alright.” He smiled, standing up.

“Good night Ronald.” I turned toward the stairs.

“Night, Love.” He said. I spun around to see him scratch the back of his neck and disappear up the spiral staircase. My face turned red as a beetroot as I walked quietly to my room, trying my hardest to keep the floor from creaking. I laid back in my own bed, and couldn’t help but think of the boy. I pulled the blanket up to my nose, and smelt the lingering scent of fire smoke and soft cologne. I smiled to myself as I drifted back to sleep.

The next evening played out similarly. Even though I stole another blanket off of Herminone’s bed, my feet were colder than ice. But the temperature wasn’t the only thing keeping me up. My mind raced with thoughts of last night. I got out of bed again and pulled on a pair of socks before grabbing my blanket and leaving the dorm.

Again there was a red mop of hair in front of the big fireplace. He turned and smiled at me as I walked down the last few stairs.

“This can’t become an every night thing, Weasley. I’ll run out of nice things to say about you by the end of the week.” I said, sitting next to the boy on the couch. He put his arm around me immediately and grabbed his portion of my blanket.

“I don’t plan on it. I’m just out here because Harry hasn’t gone to sleep yet.” He said.

“Ah, well. I’d offer you my bed, but I’m afraid you’d wake up as a block of ice.” I laughed.

“Still too cold for you?”

“Yep. That coupled with the fact I can’t seem to put my brain to bed.” I said, leaning into him a bit.

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I could return the favor from last night.”

“Well, I’m a little worried about the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, but Hermione and I are going to work on it together tomorrow.” I started, looking deep into the fireplace. “And there are a few more assignments that I’m behind on. But mostly, I’m full of butterflies when I think about last night. Now, I know we were both half asleep, and you may not have realised this, but you called me Love.” I continued, talking a bit faster to keep Ron from interrupting, and began to gesture in the air. “There's two ways it could go now. The first is that, because you were half asleep, your true feelings would have slipped out, and you actually like me more than friends. The second is that you were just that — half asleep — and something you didn’t really mean fell out because you weren’t thinking. I’m rather hoping that it is the first because I really like you two and would love to go on a date, but I have a feeling-”

He cut me off, pulling my chin and pressing his lips to mine. My hand fell to his chest as I kissed back. We pulled away and he looked me in the eyes. “I did mean to call you Love.” He said quietly and let go of my face. I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder. “I think you talk a bit much though.” He added with a laugh.

“That’s my talent.” I giggled. “And I’d like to talk a bit more. If we are going to be anything, What are you to Lavender?”

“I’m nothing to her.”

“Oh, good. She gave me quite the death glare when I came to visit you in the Hospital Wing last week. Hermione won’t tell me why, but it’s been bothering me.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure either. Hermione and Harry just laugh when I ask them about it.”

“So then what are we?”

“Well, I’d love for you to be my girlfriend.” He said with a grin.

“Excuse me Ronald.” I sat up, “There are procedures for things like this. You have to actually take me on a date first. Let’s say-”

“Next weekend, we’ll have butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks.” He said, pulling me back into his arms.

“I guess that works. But only because I like you.” I said, cuddling into his arms.

#ron x reader #ron x you #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley x you #Harry Potter #Harry Potter x reader #Harry x reader

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heaven-in-a-wild-flower · 3 years ago

Text

Crows Headcanon: In Lockdown

Read this and more Crows headcanons on ao3 using this link

Chapter 1 (the chapters aren't related and do not continue the story, each can be read separately)

Kaz

Kaz yearns to vanquish the last of his enemies, to admire the bright red of their blood. He feels an ache in him that can only be sated by the sight of beautiful stolen kruge. He fantasises of the glorious feeling of having bested another. He shivers with desire when he thinks of all the fear he could be eliciting in people.

In other words, he's bored. What is a crime lord to do if no crimes can be done? (There is the option of ignoring lockdown and venturing out, but he's not stupid enough to risk getting a virus). He wakes up each morning and trudges to the rooftop because he wants to get some fresh air and some quiet (not because that seems to be Inej's favourite spot). He stays there for an hour or so, memorising various details of the city below (not Inej's smile. She loves sunsets and smiles softly at them). He's always incredibly calm after this exercise. It must be because of all the fresh air.

Then he has to go down and deal with the rest of his Crows, some of whom cannot stop talking at him (Jesper, of course). They all eat breakfast together at the table and chatter all through it. He misses being able to scare people away with just a glance and regale them with their secrets, just to watch them quake. The Crows giggle, how dare they, when he tries it on them. They aren't scared of him anymore and he hates it (loves it).

He then locks himself in his room and spends many hours plotting all the schemes he'll enact after the lockdown is lifted. Oh, the people of Ketterdam won't know what hit them. Someone keeps knocking and leaving food outside so eats that for lunch. He hasn't yet figured out who it might be. They're always gone no matter how fast he goes for the door. But no matter, he'll figure it out, he is Kaz Brekker after all, secrets bow to him.

In the evening they all sit down for a round of cards (sometimes even he falls prey to Jesper's charm). Kaz simultaneously trains them.

"What's the easiest way to temporarily blind someone?" he asks (This is more for personal entertainment than true training because he loves to rile Matthias up).

"Dirt in their face?" Inej asks.

"Bright light to the eye?" Jesper says.

"Tighten a blood vessel?" Nina suggests.

"Spit in their eyes?" Wylan adds. (Kaz will never say it, but he is so proud)

"You're all horrible," Matthias responds predictably, yet everyone hears him mutter, "Smoke bomb is best."

He goes to bed somewhat relaxed, an effect of not having to worry about being attacked in your sleep (or robbed, for that matter).

He'll never admit it to anyone, not even if you threaten to rob all his kruge but, maybe this lockdown situation with all his Crows is tolerable.

Inej

Inej misses the freedom. The freedom of being able to climb and slide and jump her way through any part of the city. Being trapped inside due to the lockdown causes a bit of anxiety in her. It does help to at least be able to see the entire city spread out before her like her very own feast and so she'll spend most of her morning on the roof, bottling up the feeling to last her through the day. She loves the sunset, but every time Kaz joins her at the roof, sneaking what he thinks are subtle glances at her, she can't stop smiling (a small gentle smile, but a smile nonetheless).

In the afternoon she, Nina and Jesper will try to cook. She laughs the most with them, her stomach aching in the best way afterwards. She loves them and endures their high energy goofy selves with equal parts fondness and amusement. The food isn't always the best, but the company is so good that she forgets the taste of it (most of the time, sometimes she has to yell at Jesper not to keep burning the food just to finish a good joke).

In the evenings, she'll sometimes practice some of her acrobatics wherever she can. She secretly gets thrilled by slightly scaring Jesper whenever he walks into a room and suddenly finds her dangling from somewhere. Sometimes when she feels anxious and desperately needs to be calmed, she'll ask Wylan to play his flute and fall asleep curled up wherever she is (Jesper loves taking pictures of her asleep in weird places and Kaz makes sure she always has a blanket on her but only when no one is looking).

Some nights she'll make some of her comfort food and Kaz will lean against the counter, claiming that he's helping (his presence helps her, always, even though he does not do any of the cooking). His absolute silence calms her, it feels both comforting and understanding and she loves the weight of his gaze on her, anchoring her. And every time she asks him to hand her something, their fingers brush and warmth bursts through her body. She loves these quiet nights they have, the way they are both magnetic to the other. She'll smile at him and he'll freeze and he'll move a bit closer to her and she'll tingle with awareness.

Jesper

Jesper, as we know, is a raging extrovert. He’s almost dying staying inside all day. He wakes up in the morning and gets dragged back in by Wylan who won't let him leave before he gives him a good cuddle in the morning. He indulges him, of course. He loves it. He didn't know that being wanted, being loved could feel like this. When he's eventually awake, he'll go chat up Matthias who also gets up pretty early to do his workout (although chat at is more accurate, considering that Matthias barely responds). He has taken to calling Matthias 'Matty' and Matthias loathes it (which means that Jesper does it all the time, of course).

Later, after Nina, Jesper and Inej manage to make lunch, he takes some up to Kaz. He leaves it outside his room and once he's in another room, he pushes any small metal object towards the door to make the knocks (because what use is it being Grisha if you don't use it for friendly pranks?). He hangs out with Nina in the afternoons sometimes and they discuss their favourite shows and characters. Those two will go on for hours without realising it and sometimes they won't even realise that they're being very loud (because that's what passionate fangirling/fanboying is like). As the fashion icons of the group, they also often do online shopping together. Sometimes he'll go from room to room (excluding Kaz's, not because it's locked but because it's, well, Kaz's) talking to everyone and trying to join whatever they're doing and he'll end up annoying everyone in one fell swoop, earning many comments along the lines of, "Wylan, what do you see in him?" Wylan would stroke his chin in thought and respond, "Hmm, you know what, now that you bring it up..." After this, Jesper will attack him with kisses all over his face and giggling, Wylan will forget whatever he was about to say.

Evenings are his favourite though, card time! The Crows refuse to bet kruge because they don't want to fuel his gambling addiction so they'll bet on random things. Losing one of the bets, Jesper had to take shots of Tabasco sauce alternating with shots of milk while singing Hot N Cold by Katy Perry (this was a Wylan dare, he is terrifyingly good at setting dares). The best one was when Kaz lost and had to dance to Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae) by Silentó while following the exact dance steps (this was a Nina dare. She was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks. Jesper tried to record it, but Kaz knocked the phone out of his hands using his cane.)

In the nights, Jesper watches Wylan write some of his own songs (a hobby he has picked up recently). He simply can't look away, Wylan's face scrunched up in concentration is too captivating.

"Stop staring," Wylan will complain sometimes, blushing and blushing, "I can't focus!"

Jesper will brush his hand through his curls, kiss his head and respond, "I can't help it, maybe I just like your stupid face."

"I'll dare you to do something truly horrifying tomorrow," Wylan threatens with the sweetest smile on his face and Jesper immediately backs off. He loves this side of Wylan, the side only the Crows get to see. The side who isn't quiet and innocent, who isn't afraid to speak his mind, to assert his place. He gives him one long kiss on the lips, leaving both of them just a little bit dazed and goes to sleep. He falls asleep immediately, all his energy drained and the pillow smelling wonderfully like Wylan.

Wylan

Wylan loves waking up with his boyfriend right next to him, even if he grumbles and refuses to get off the bed as early as Jesper does. His laziness certainly pays off, he gets breakfast in bed so many times! When he does wake up, he'll be groggy for the entirety of the morning (Jesper calls him 'Zombie Boy' in the mornings and if he were more awake, Wylan would probably object to this, but since he isn't, he just grumbles and focuses on not falling face first into his food). He only truly wakes up at lunchtime. He loves making little desserts to surprise the Crows. All their pleased reactions make him blush and grin at once.

He sometimes pulls Jesper onto the couch with him to watch a movie (because he loves spending time with him, not because the rest of the Crows have been begging him to distract Jesper, okay, maybe both are true). Shockingly, Jesper does not like action movies, Wylan found this out the hard way when he put on an action movie the first time and Jesper fell asleep not even halfway through it. Jesper actually likes... romcoms. Wylan loves how Jesper cries and laughs simultaneously, clutching Wylan's shirt and burying his face in it during the sad parts and jerking back up to laugh at the jokes or repeat the dialogues with the characters. Wylan loves being needed like this. He never knew he'd enjoy giving comfort as much as he loves receiving it.

Sometimes it scares him how much he loves the Crows. He hasn't ever known family that didn't hurt him, that liked him as is, no modifications needed. To help deal with this deluge of feelings without getting overwhelmed, he writes music. He pours all of his feelings into his flute and when they come out of it, they are sweet and painful, loud and whispery, sharp and smooth. He doesn't think all the Crows understand this but, it is enough to see a passing smile when they hear it and it is enough for him to get those feelings out there. And the peace he gives Inej when she falls asleep to his music makes him think she understands (she does).

He enjoys torturing the others during card time in the evenings (he absolutely preens when he sees Kaz's approving nod). He'll never tell anyone, but he finds some of his most outrageous dares on Reddit (Kaz knows this, and is even prouder of him at the deception).

He also sometimes lets Nina style his hair. She enjoys it and he does too. He loves the feeling of her hands moving gently through his curls. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to imagine that it's his mother. If he shudders or lets loose a few tears, he pretends it was the cold or the pain from having his hair tugged at. Nina lets him pretend, she understands wanting maternal affection, she's an orphan herself. She thinks having it and then having it taken away due to situations like these is harder than never having had it at all.

He goes to sleep slowly, curling up like a cat and watching Jesper's face in the restfulness of sleep. Oh, how lucky he is.

Nina

Nina has mixed feelings about the lockdown because she's an ambivert. She misses meeting people, but is also really happy and comfortable just staying in and hanging out with the other Crows.

She wakes up in the morning, not too early and not too late, but obviously later than Matthias because who even wakes up that early? Anyway, she stretches and lounges in bed for a while, enjoying the warmth. When she wakes up, Matthias is usually about to go for a shower (so he's sweaty, very very sweaty). He tries to hug her, but she dodges. "No, no! Take a shower first!" He grins and grabs her again (Is this really what all his Fierdan training is meant for? He thinks so, yes). Even though she doesn't quite enjoy the feeling of sweat-slicked arms around her, she loves this side of Matthias. This playful, childish side that only she gets to see. Every time it pops up, she feels proud, honoured even that he trusts her enough to be himself with her. It makes her heart warm.

After all the breakfast shenanigans, she goes into a room and picks up her knitting supplies. She's picked up this hobby in the lockdown to kill time, but now she's actually quite enjoying it. She makes socks and scarfs and sweaters and beanies, all with bright colours and cosily mismatched. She then gifts it to the others. She knows that they don't like it and that is why she pretends that they are genuine gifts. They wear it and she loves how they look it in. It makes her crack up so many times (she also loves them for it).

Wylan lands up with a pink and yellow coloured beanie that is about two times too big for his head. It keeps falling into his eyes and making him look like a little poisonous mushroom. Jesper gets a giant rainbow scarf that he loves. He wears it all the time and makes sure to hit as many people with the ends of it as he rewraps it around his neck over and over again. Inej gets a bright blue sweater with green and orange polka dots that she drowns in. Nina knows that Inej likes the way it covers her hands and keeps them warm. Kaz gets purple and black striped socks that he claims he never wears, yet she sometimes sees them in the wash. Matthias is so aggressively supportive of her that he wears all her creations at once, a beanie, a sweater, two scarves and a pair of socks. He's like a human furnace and she loves to cuddle him in them (she also suspects that he loves this too and this is the real reason he does it, but she, of course, doesn't mind).

She loves using her dares in the evening to embarrass Kaz because that is her true purpose in life, she is simply superb at it. And the glares she gets in return fuel her very soul (and if it makes Inej smile, then that's just an extra benefit).

She sometimes has girl-time with Inej, where they paint each other's nails and talk about Kaz or sometimes they talk about nothing at all. They play music and simply enjoy each other's company.

She and Matthias go to bed cuddling, his warmth wrapped all around her, or her warmth enveloping him. She didn't know a pair of arms could feel this wonderful, but she knows that it wouldn't work with just any pair of arms. Only his, always his.

Matthias

Matthias enjoys the lockdown time. He likes all the extra time, which he fills up with all sorts of activities he's always wanted to try. He also feels anxious if he's being unproductive so it's a win-win. He wakes up early. The waking up part is easier than leaving the circle of Nina's arms, but he manages somehow. He works out, ignoring Jesper and that accursed name (Matty).

Later, he moves on to his current hobby, woodworking. He's working on an extra cupboard so that Nina has space for all her clothes (she keeps buying more because she's bored and online shopping kills time, but Matthias blames it entirely on Jesper). Everybody is a bit jealous of how productive he is during the lockdown, but they also love it because of the gifts they get from it.

Matthias made Kaz a new cane with more modifications and a better grip and took Nina's help to make sure that it matched his "aesthetic" (he's still a bit unsure what that means, but by the way Kaz's eyes widened, he knows Kaz liked it, so that's enough for him). He made Inej some new scabbards and the way she held his gaze and thanked him for it sincerely touched him (this is why Inej gets the most gifts, comparable only to how many Nina gets). Wylan got a dartboard with Jan Van Eck's face on it that he loves (It was supposed to be a bit of a joke gift, but Wylan is now a master of darts and enjoys it quite a bit, so there's that). Jesper got a holster that Nina insisted on bedazzling and when they gave it to him, his whole body stilled and tears filled his eyes. He leapt at them which Matthias nearly took for an attack before he hugged them (Matthias still thinks of this as a different type of attack, but he supposes that it is tolerable) (Jesper now tries to hug him all the time).

The part he enjoys most is relaxing with Nina. When they're cuddling he feels the warmth seep through his skin all the way to his heart. When he asked Nina if she was doing something to his heart with her Heartrender powers, she laughed and laughed and laughed. That made his heart thud louder and louder, making him believe that she really was doing something to it. All the cuddling reminds him of the first time they did it, huddling together in Fierda to conserve warmth. He doesn't know how it happened, but somehow he has her now and it is everything.

(Comment what you think about this, it would mean the world to me! <3)

Next chapter

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list.

#six of crows #soc #grishaverse #soc hc #crows headcanon #crows hc #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #kanej headcanon #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wesper #wesper headcanon #nina zenik #matthias helvar #helnik headcanon #helnik #shadow and bone

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slasherbastard · 4 years ago

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Stockholm Syndrome - Brahms Heelshire

(gif credit: boodalinski)

Request: Thank you, so I was wondering if I could get one for Brahms. Where the reader (preferably a girl you can do gn, if you like!!) moves from the states to the u.k for a job. And she comes across Brahms home bc she got lost. And she steps inside and spends the night there and he like stalks her from the walls. And the next morning he like knocks her out and takes her hostage after she tries to leave, bc shes his new obsession. Maybe Stockholm syndrome if you’re comfortable with doing that. I’m not sure if you write smut or anything like that.

Warning: light smut Word count: 2639 Notes: okay okay so I redid the ending and added the smut, that’s the last time I try to write when sleep deprived

Brahms wasn't expecting guests that night but then you stumbled upon the manor. Ever since Greta left to who knows where Brahms had no one to look after him so he was left to look after himself. Now that he didn't have to worry about hiding away from any nannies he was free to roam the rooms of the house instead of just observing from the walls. It was nice for him, being able to eat warm meals whenever he pleased without having to worry about them being freezing out while he waited for the nanny to stray far enough from the kitchen that it'd be safe enough for him to leave the walls and steal the food like a rat.

It was getting late and Brahms couldn't sleep, the loneliness was eating him alive and he was starving because apparently 4 PB&J sandwiches weren't enough for him. Brahms hated to admit it but he missed Greta and needed her - no, he needed someone to just care for him and love him the way she could've. The next thing Brahms knew he was out of the walls and making yet another PB&J for himself, rubbing his tired eyes as he screwed the lid back onto the jar of jam.

That's when he heard the front door open and he froze. There was definitely time for Brahms to grab his sandwich to run back to one of the few entries into the walls but worry filled him as he abandoned the meal and found the hole in the parlour where a mirror once hung. Within a few seconds you walked past one of the slits in the wallpaper and Brahms held his breath as a stranger walked into the kitchen.

"Hello? I'm sorry to intrude but I'm lost and-" She stopped as she saw the freshly made sandwich sitting on the counter and spun around and Brahms watched her every move. He watched as this girl cautiously looked around before grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite out of it, Brahms expected himself to be angry. How dare a complete stranger just waltz into his home and eat his food? But for some reason he wasn't mad, in fact, something about the stranger fascinated him. "Whoever made this, this is a surprisingly good PB&J. Is this place haunted?" She muttered the last bit to herself and Brahms quietly chuckled behind his mask as she put away the items Brahms had left out and finished the sandwich before walking upstairs and continuing to talk to herself, blabbering about how she was giving herself 'horror movie' vibes.

She yawned as she reached the top of the stairs and peaked into the bedrooms still quietly calling out just in case somebody actually was home, and nobody was to her knowledge. Brahms followed her through the walls as she found one of the guest bedrooms and yawned again. The stranger dropped the bag she was holding onto the floor and crawled into the bed, tiredly talking to herself. "Alright, Y/N. Just go to sleep then leave as soon as you wake up." 'Y/N' what a beautiful name.

Brahms quietly chanted the name under his breath as he watched her fall onto the bed and snuggle into the small stream of blankets. He didn't have Greta anymore but that didn't matter because now he has you, Y/N.

You opened your eyes as the memories from last night came back to you. You'd caught a bus straight from the airport to what you were hoping was a cheap motel but instead you managed to miss your stop and got dropped off in the middle of nowhere. This would've been fine if it wasn't the last bus scheduled for the night and you weren't suffering from the effects of jetlag after leaving the states for a job you didn't even want in the first place, you tried calling a cab but your phone couldn't pick up a signal.

A lot of the night was a haze. Most of it was spent walking in the dark until you found a manor, then you decided that going inside would be a great idea, then you fell asleep in said manor, and now here you are awake in the manor. You grabbed your phone off the stand beside the bed and realised it was dead before taking it and sliding out of the bed. A sudden loud noise came from downstairs and really woke you up.

You'd been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realise someone was standing right next to the bed, until you looked over and saw the towering figure of a masked man. You tried to scream but before you knew it you were waking up again with a raging headache and your arms bound behind a wooden column. You tried to scan your surroundings but it was too dark to see anything, now this place was really giving you horror movie vibes and you weren't going to be the final girl after this.

The ropes around your wrists were starting to burn as you continued to struggle against them, biting your lip as the pain got stronger. You let out a frustrated groan and slammed your back into the column. "Hello!" You yelled out. Now you were 100% certain that somebody was home, what if they were watching? "I swear my damn arms are gonna fall off." You felt the ropes loosen as your arms moved a little more freely but you were still stuck.

"Don't." You stopped and looked up. The light flicked on and a familiar figure stood a few feet away from you just staring at your helpless position on the floor. "You'll hurt yourself." He got closer and you continued trying to free yourself from the ropes as he got on his knees and was only inches away from your face, you hadn't realised he was wearing a mask this entire time - of course, this was the first time you were able to get a proper look at his face. You felt the ropes slip and one of your arms was free but the man was too distracted to realise this as you freed your second arm and held the rope in place. He stroked your cheek and tilted his head slightly, his cold touch made you cringe and he pulled back for a second before continuing. You could hear him whispering something under that creepy mask. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N."

You almost didn't realise you had kicked him until he fell back, your delayed reaction wasn't enough to help you successfully escape as he was onto you the second you had stood up, pulling you back down as you screamed for help even though you knew nobody could hear you. He dragged you over to a small bed in the corner of the room and threw you onto it, you tried to get off but he was on top of you before you could make another move. Through that mask of his you could see his eyes, they looked desperate and hungry for something.

"Are you going to kill me?" His expression softened at those words but he gripped your arms tighter just in case you used this as a chance as to attempt another escape but instead you just watched him, expecting him to either wrap his hands around your neck or maybe stab you but he just watched you.

"Why would I hurt my pretty Y/N?"

You felt your heart stop and your chest ache at the same time. "Who are you?" You tried to wiggle free from his grip but he wasn't letting you go anywhere.

"Brahms."

You were supposed to be preparing lunch but you couldn't focus. You don't know how many days or weeks or even months have passed by now but somehow you were still alive. Brahms wasn't shy to show his obvious feelings towards you just hoping that maybe one day you'd return them, maybe you'd stop trying to run away if he showed you how loved you were by him. Brahms hasn't stopped trying to prove to you that you don't need anyone but him, especially considering that he was the only person you were going to be seeing for the rest of your life.

While Brahms wasn't afraid to show you that he loved you, you weren't afraid to show him how much you hated him - although, you weren't exactly sure why you acted that way. Sure, you were pissed that you ended up getting held hostage by a captor who wears a creepy mask the night you arrived in a new country but there was something about him that made you want to stay. In fact, you hadn't attempted another escape in what felt like forever. You didn't want to hate Brahms but there was a part of you forcing yourself to - maybe it was because you didn't want to admit that you had developed feelings for him.

You had no idea if Brahms noticed that your hatred for him was just a façade now. At night he'd cuddle up to you and you wouldn't try to fight him off like you used to, you also stopped ignoring him anytime he came into a room but that didn't mean you were getting friendly with him. Neither of you had gotten to that point in this unlikely 'friendship' where you felt like you could tell this man anything but you did wonder what would happen if you just told him. Sighing, you turned around and bumped into none other than Brahms.

Gasping, you quickly apologised and tried to run off somewhere but he grabbed your upper arm and held you in place. Looking up at him through the eyeholes of at mask you waited for him to tell you that he was hungry but instead he just looked at you. "What is it, Brahms?"

"Come with me." He didn't wait before he dragged you out of the kitchen and eventually you were both outside that loft when Brahms slammed your back into one of the walls. You groaned and cringed in pain before looking at up Brahms.

"What the hell was that-" Brahms threw a hand over your eyes and you froze when you felt hot breath on your neck. "Brahms?" You shook your head, trying to get Brahms to remove his hand from your face but it wouldn't budge as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck leaving light kisses heading up towards your jaw, sucking and biting on the areas. You bit your lip and tried not to react while also focusing on the sensation of his chapped yet soft lips against your skin. You felt your body moving on your own as you tried to get closer to Brahms needing a bit of friction to continue but he denied it and continued his little act before moving away for a brief moment then connecting his lips to yours. Taken aback, you hesitated trying to figure out whether you should kiss him back but before you knew it you'd lost control and your lips were moving in sync with his.

Brahms wanted to feel your body, to explore it, but he couldn't with one hand hiding himself you and the other clutching the mask. He wanted to drop it, shatter that porcelain thing into pieces just so you could see who he truly was without any restrictions. If you reacted badly then glue could fix the mask but nothing could fix what was your relationship.

Just as the two of you were getting into it Brahms broke away and you took that moment to catch your breath before Brahms removed his hand and you could see him readjusting that porcelain mask of his as you turned to run and find your way out of the walls but you stopped when you heard his voice. "Y/N I know you love me." You stopped and heard gentle movements behind you before Brahms appeared in front of you. "You do love me, right?"

You looked up at him with wide eyes at the realisation that he knew that you'd let your guard down ages ago, and you clearly didn't just kiss him for no reason. It was so damn obvious but you still wanted to say no. "Yes." dammit. Brahms looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else but you couldn't find the right words. Taking a breath and looking him dead in the eyes you finally spoke. "I. . .I-"

He got closer to you. "Tell me you love me, Y/N." Something within him seemed desperate as he tried to close in the small space between the two of you until your chests were almost connected. "Y/N?"

"I love you Brahms." You don't know exactly what you'd expected in that moment, maybe a hug? Did you expect him to cry? Whatever wholesome reaction you waited for from him never came. Instead, Brahms stuck a hand out for you and you took it without really thinking much of it as he slowly lead you into the loft. Although he was taking his time there was a sense of desperation circling him as he sat down longways on the bed and pulled you onto his lap and held onto you, his hands moving down to your lower back. This whole time his eyes were on you and your eyes were on him. "Brahms?"

"Mhmm?" He hummed, his hands now playing with the bottom of your shirt.

You leaned in close to Brahms' ear and whispered. "If we're going to do this, then I want to at least be able to see who's fucking me." You pulled away and planned to make eye contact with Brahms again but you barely got the chance before he switched the position.

"No." You felt your stomach churn as he said it, his voice had dropped as if he were pissed off but there was still a playful tinge behind it. Brahms wasted no time ripping your shirt off and bringing his masked face down to yours and kissing you through the mask. Suddenly he pulled away and reached over underneath his pillow and you threw your head back and watched as he pulled out a long piece of fabric. "Do you trust me?"

You were hesitant for a few seconds as Brahms messed around with the makeshift blindfold, still waiting for your reply. "Please, Y/N. I promise I'll make you feel good." He whined but you didn't need to be asked twice as you sat up and Brahms covered your eyes with the fabric and tied it off behind your head and pushed you back down onto the bed. You heard a light clank and tried to peak under the fabric to catch a glimpse of Brahms without that creepy mask on but all you saw was his head of dark curly hair as he began planting kisses, making his way down to your core.

Brahms woke up and immediately looked down at the girl in his arms and smiled under his mask and held back the urge to caress her face or move the hair away from her eyes, afraid he'd wake her. Y/N shifted her weight in her sleep and cuddled into Brahms' chest as he continued to hold onto her not daring to move. He wanted to laugh, cry tears of joy, because he really couldn't believe that he finally had the one thing he'd wanted ever since his own parents stopped treating him like their son, he finally had someone who loved him. "You're finally mine, Y/N." He whispered and nuzzled his face into her hair.

#slasher #writing #horror #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #afab reader

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clubyukhei · 4 years ago

Text

in the mood for love (m)

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: fluff, smut, slice of life, some angst

summary: distance makes the heart grow fonder. in yukhei’s case, it makes him reminisce on all the firsts of your relationship and realise you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. (or: a long-distance relationship au where yukhei savours every moment of your short reunion.)

warnings: unprotected sex, language

tags: established relationship, flashbacks, set in hk, hendery and kunten appear, drunk texting, flirty dialogue, love letters, talks of marriage, pining, a bittersweet ending

word count: 14.6k

a/n: wow, it feels weird to be finally posting this because i’ve been working on this for months. this took way longer than expected and for that i wanna thank my sweet mutuals and anons who have been so patient and encouraging :’) i hope you’re in the mood for fluff and domesticity because this fic is full of it! enjoy! (reposting again bc the original one wouldn’t show up in the tags. tysm if you’ve interacted with that post btw <3)

heaven is in your eyes

bright as the stars we're under

oh, is it any wonder

i'm in the mood for love?

why stop to think of whether

this little dream might fade?

we've put our hearts together

now we are one, i'm not afraid

if there's a cloud above

if it should rain we'll let it

but for tonight, forget it

i'm in the mood for love

mornings like this are hard to come by for yukhei.

when the only sounds he can hear are the ticking of a clock and your soft exhalations. when you’re cuddled up to him, your face tucked into the crook of his neck where you breathe warm puffs of air onto his skin every few seconds.

it’s probably just another one of those dreams that yukhei gets every now and then. the kind he never wants to wake up from, because when he opens his eyes, all he sees is the dull grey ceiling of his dormitory before his bunkmates’ noisy snores snap him back into reality.

those mornings were the worst. yukhei would give up on going back to sleep. instead, he’d force himself out of bed to wash up and head to the canteen for an early breakfast, all while annoyed that his mind had once again translated his yearning for you into his dreams. he couldn’t help but feel like he was being mocked by his own self.

but this time, it feels different.

his back is resting on a bed that’s much comfier than the thin mattress he’s used to back at camp, and he’s awfully snug and cosy under what feels like a thick fleece blanket.

yukhei peels his eyelids open, ready to be met with disappointment again.

the first thing he sees is the sunrise peeking through the curtains, greeting him good morning with a dark orange glow — which is weird, because he’s always up before the sun is. even though his mind is still fuzzy, yukhei has an inkling that he’s not back at camp. so he lifts his head off the pillow and looks around.

there’s a messy work desk between two huge potted plants; a wall fully plastered with polaroids and pictures; and a clothing rack with clothes that clearly aren’t his but it’s the bra hanging over an armchair that finally tells yukhei that he’s in your bedroom.

he looks down and sighs in relief seeing you in deep slumber next to him. you’re sleeping on your side with a hand absentmindedly resting on his waist, your head tilted as if you fell asleep while gazing at him. your eyes are closed and the look on your face is so peaceful — it’s an image that yukhei wants to keep in his mind forever.

wrapping an arm around your hips, yukhei gently tugs you closer to him. your eyebrow scrunches in reaction and he panics a little, freezing when your hand lands on top of his. but you turn on your other side and snuggle back against his chest instead, and his lips curl into a lopsided smile at this tiny movement.

yukhei hugs you from behind, nuzzling into your hair and sighing when he gets a whiff of your apple-scented shampoo that he has missed so much.

just like that, the warmth of your bodies wrapped around each other and the thought of getting to spend the next few days with you — in real life, not just in his dreams — lulls him back to sleep.

yukhei would never forget the day he first met you.

or the sight of you sitting at the back of his mum’s restaurant, sipping on a glass of iced tea as you stared out of the window and silently observed the hustle and bustle of shatin plaza.

the fact that his usual seat was occupied and that a pretty girl was sitting in it left him speechless, but not annoyed at all. sure, it was his favourite spot. it also unofficially belonged to him, seeing how he sat there nearly everyday doing his homework — but that was years ago.

yukhei felt like the universe had something up its sleeve when it presented him with such a scenario on a day where he finally managed to pop by his mum’s restaurant and pay her a visit. he rarely popped by on weekdays anymore because of how hectic his academic life was becoming.

“look who it is! our yukhei who keeps growing taller and taller!”

yukhei smiled shyly as he stepped behind the counter and greeted the longtime staff — aunties who never failed to shower him with all sorts of compliments — and rushed into the kitchen looking for his mum.

mrs wong was less than pleased when she saw her son, to say the least. the smile on her face lasted for a good minute before she started nagging about how he should’ve gone home to study instead.

“i am going to study! right after i eat.” he whined, shocked that his presence had irritated her so much.

“you always say that, yukhei. but you just play games on your phone!” mrs wong retorted, not looking away from the refrigerator.

yukhei gulped at that statement, unwilling to admit that it was quite true.

“mum, who’s that girl outside? sitting at my table?”

“your table?” she chuckled before looking up at him.

yukhei watched her make her way towards the kitchen entrance to peek at the stranger outside.

“ah, that’s _____. she comes here often.” she said with a bright smile that even yukhei himself rarely received. “she helped us understand what the tourists were saying, talked to them in english for us a few times now. a very sweet and smart girl.”

if anything, yukhei became more attracted to you at that moment.

maybe it’s the thought of you helping his mum out while he’s not around — he knew how rude and impatient some tourists could be with language barriers, having personally dealt with them several times — or maybe it’s just the way you entered his life that, for some reason, felt like an important moment to him.

either way, he already made up his mind about one thing.

yukhei ended up serving you the pad thai you had been waiting for, warmly introducing himself as the lady boss’ first and older son and striking up a conversation with you that went on longer than he had expected.

he thought it was bad that he had to control his excitement when you suggested he take the seat opposite yours, but it only got worse as you both began to talk about everything and nothing.

when you smiled, he lost his train of thought. when you laughed or so much as even chuckled, his chest squeezed around his heart and he wanted to keep hearing the sound of it. and when you listened to him, he had to look away because your attentive gaze on him was truly too much.

by the time you were done with your meal, yukhei had your number saved in his phone. he offered to walk you out, opening the glass doors for you all gentlemanly as if you had just dined at a five-star hotel restaurant.

“it was nice talking to you, yukhei.” you turned to smile at him just before you stepped outside. “see you again, i guess?”

“yeah, let’s—um. yeah, see you around.” yukhei stuttered pathetically.

you giggled and waved goodbye to him and mrs wong before heading off. the lady boss had been subtly keeping an eye on you two after her son insisted on waiting your table.

once you were out of view, yukhei sighed, cringing at how nervous he sounded. before you, he had never in his life felt that self-conscious in front of anyone.

“my dear, what was that?” his mum asked with a sly look of amusement on her face.

yukhei wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“i don’t know, mum.”

all he could think about was seeing you again.

when yukhei wakes up again, he’s alone in bed.

the midday sunlight glares into the room and shines on the empty spot next to him, prompting him to roll away and further into the shade.

he lies on his side, watching some plant-shaped shadows sway across the wall for a minute before forcing himself out of bed. those extra hours of sleep did wonders for his circadian rhythm and for once he doesn’t feel tired to be awake at all — just bummed that he woke up with you not in his arms.

something in the air shifted after last night. yukhei couldn’t get over the way you jumped into his arms when he appeared at your doorstep, or how you got emotional at his shaky confession as he presented you with the promise ring he had been keeping for so long.

he had been craving for your presence so much over the past few months that seeing you reciprocate those feelings made him relieved and somewhat clingy. all he wants is to stick by your side every second he has with you before he leaves again.

so he gets out of bed immediately, walking into your tiny living room where he hears the sound of running water and finds you leaning against the kitchen counter with your back facing him, busily tending to the roses he had gifted you last night.

yukhei makes his way to you fast. his hands sneak beneath your oversized t-shirt and around your waist, pulling your frame against his front as he places a kiss on your temple.

“morning,” you say, relaxing into his touch and reaching for the nape of his neck with one hand to tug his face closer to yours.

yukhei hums in satisfaction when you angle your face perfectly to lock your lips with his in a tender kiss and whines when you attempt to pull away. he wants to taste your lips for a little longer, he’s far from done and you know it too.

you turn around to face him properly, abandoning the stalks of roses that had your attention earlier. a gasp escapes you when he slides his hands down to your bum and swiftly lifts you onto the counter.

“missed my baby so much,” he mumbles against the juncture of your jaw and neck, relishing in your soft sighs by his ear.

he doesn’t miss the way your legs hook around his waist to pull him closer or the way your fingertips lightly scratch his scalp as he busily sucks at your skin, determined to leave a trail of love marks for his own appreciation.

the doorbell rings just as he’s licking over his masterpiece, rudely interrupting the moment.

“yukhei.” you squeeze his shoulders and yukhei forces himself to pull away.

“who’s that?” he asks, unable to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice. his hands refuse to leave your skin, his thumb gently caressing the curve of your underboob.

you giggle at his pouty lips before adjusting the short bangs hanging over his forehead that he hated despite the many times you told him he looked cute.

“i ordered brunch for us.”

dumbfounded and still in a half-asleep state, yukhei helps you off the counter. he watches you look into the peephole before opening the door and picking up a large paper bag that had been sitting on your doormat.

“i thought you’d be hungry after waking up.” you say, setting the bag into your small dining table for two. “i hope you don’t mind, bub. i didn’t want to cook anything because, well—i can’t. i haven’t been to the grocery store this week. but we can always head there later and get stuff for the next few days.”

yukhei lets out a huff of disbelief. “baby.”

but you don’t hear him. you’re so busy unpacking the small food boxes onto the table as you ramble on and on, oblivious to the way he was staring at you in adoration.

“i got you your favourite stuff. spring rolls, shu mai—what?”

at last you notice how quiet he has been and you freeze, looking at him with your eyes wide in concern.

“sit down and let me do the work, please.” yukhei pleads, dragging a chair out. “you did all that while i did nothing and slept like a log!”

you laugh, shaking your head as you sit down. “i just dialed a number and asked for some food. and i know you really needed that sleep.”

once all the food boxes are arranged neatly on the table, yukhei takes his seat next to you. you’re in the midst of reaching for a pair of chopsticks when his hand grabs onto yours, halting your movements.

there’s a moment of silence as you curiously watch him readjust his thumb below the joints of your fingers, bringing the back of your hand towards his lips.

“thank you, baby. i love you.” he tells you with a dazed smile, placing a kiss just above where the promise ring hugs your finger.

“you’re welcome.”

you tell him you love him too before you bite back a huge smile — the kind that satisfies yukhei so much because he knows he’s the reason behind it.

yukhei couldn’t put into words how elated he was when you texted him back a few days after your slightly awkward first meeting, agreeing to hang out with him that upcoming friday night.

truth be told, there weren’t any concrete plans for your first date. it was amusing to him really, how the conversation ended right after you both settled on a meeting place, with no discussions of what to do or where to eat.

maybe you were simply excited to see him again and didn’t really care about what the plan was — because that was exactly how yukhei felt.

the bus ride to the shopping mall felt longer than usual. yukhei found himself staring at his reflection in the window a few times, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket and making sure he looked good.

he had rushed home straight after javelin practice and taken the quickest shower of his life before spending a good amount of time styling his hair. it was not the wisest idea — choosing a late school day when there were six other days in a week where he wouldn’t have to rush — but he had been merely trying his luck when he sent that message asking if you were free. he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.

so when he spotted you waiting all by yourself from afar, he quickened his footsteps amidst the crowd, never taking his eyes off of you.

your face lit up as soon as you saw him and you waved, the crop top you wore lifting a little. yukhei’s gaze flew to the sliver of skin exposed and the nervousness that had been bubbling in his tummy earlier instantly melted into nothing.

the night went quite smoothly. yukhei could not have enjoyed himself more, from dinner at the sushi bar you had recommended to the impromptu movie session that had the both of you sharing the only available seat left: a couple seat.

he was falling harder as he got to know you more and it scared him just how fast it was happening.

“do you watch superhero movies a lot?” you asked as the two of you turned into another alley of food stalls.

yukhei had insisted on accompanying you back to the train station after the movie as it was getting late. he was not going to leave you alone when nightlife in the city was just starting, not when the streets were bound to get rowdy.

“not really. i mean blockbusters are nice but i love old dramas and action flicks, you know?” yukhei answered, turning to look at you in his jacket that had been on you since he noticed you shivering in the cinema. he couldn’t help but smile at how your fingertips were peeking beneath the long sleeves.

“wait, me too!” you gasped, turning to look at him with a huge smile. “why didn’t you stop us from watching iron man?”

“well you suggested it so i thought you really wanted to watch it!” yukhei laughed as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “i’m sorry.”

“no, that’s my bad. i didn’t know what you liked so i just picked something popular.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “maybe we can watch the great gatsby next time. i think we might enjoy that.”

next time?

it took yukhei a few seconds to acknowledge the idea of a second date that you had brought up so casually.

“r-really?” he cringed as the single word fumbled through his lips.

“yeah?” you replied, the blank look on his face amusing you a little. “we can watch something else too, if you want.”

“no!” he perked up. “let’s watch gatsby.”

eventually the two of you arrived at the train station, where goodbyes were exchanged rather reluctantly and awkwardly. yukhei watched as you took a few steps away from him before abruptly turning back around.

“what’s wrong?”

“your jacket!” you ran a hand through your hair abashedly. “i almost forgot! i mean i did, but.”

yukhei’s hands flew to yours before he could stop himself, stopping you from taking his black denim jacket off.

“it gets cold in the train. you should have it.” his hands flew to his sides awkwardly. “you can give it back to me next time, it’s okay.”

“oh.” you said so softly that yukhei almost missed it. your eyes fell onto the short sleeves hugging his arms and he read your mind right away.

“i’ll be fine. my bus ride home is pretty quick.” he reassured you. it was a lie. the weather had started getting cooler and that’s why he brought a jacket out in the first place, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

yukhei noticed that your cheeks had reddened a little. why were you so cute?

“okay then,” you said with a tiny smile. “thanks again, yukhei.”

yukhei landed on his bed face flat after a warm shower, absolutely exhausted and ready to hit the sack. to be fair, it had been a long day for him and it was close to midnight.

if it was any other weekday night, he would be snoring already. but he had just sent you a text asking if you reached home already and was eagerly waiting for your reply.

at last, after a long five minutes, yukhei’s phone buzzed a few times in a row.

[from: _____][sent at 11:57PM]

hey

i just got out of the shower

thx for checking in :)

and thx for tonight again, i had a good time :)

wait it’s almost 12!!

you’re still awake?

yukhei didn’t realise a bunch of alphabets and symbols could make him so happy. his thumb hovered over his phone screen as he began to type out a reply, but a more texts came flying in.

[from: _____][sent at 11:59PM]

well

in case you’re already sleeping..

goodnight and sweet dreams~

just minutes ago, he had been so ready to fall asleep. but the rush of happiness he experienced as he read your texts over again made that impossible now. yukhei couldn’t put away his phone, couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

he was screwed. he knew he was, when that was the effect you had on him after only days of knowing each other.

“well, well, well. if it isn’t my favourite couple.”

“sorry,” you sigh while yukhei simply shoots an apologetic smile at kunhang as he slips into the booth after you. “you know how bad traffic is at this hour.”

“it’s okay.” says ten who’s sitting next to kunhang and shoving his nintendo switch into his bag. “but we ordered some stuff first because i’m starving my ass off.”

“oh that’s great!” yukhei cheers. “i’m hungry too.”

“already? weren’t you guys just at your mum’s restaurant?” ten chuckles as he looks up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

kunhang snorts. “he’s hungry all the time, remember? you should see his snack stash back at our dorms.”

just before they parted ways at camp at the start of their vacation, kunhang had suggested to yukhei that they have a get-together meal with ten — the oldest of the trio who recently scored a job at a renown art gallery in town and decided to stay for good, instead of flying back to his hometown.

yukhei agreed to it, not just because he missed his friend dearly, but also because it’s been a while since all of you had a meal together. when he brought it up to you, you were thrilled at the idea of catching up with them, even if that meant giving up some of his already limited time with you. that’s how you and him ended up sitting across from his two best friends at a hot pot restaurant tonight.

as food arrives and gradually takes up every inch of space on the table, everyone takes turns giving updates on their lives. yukhei shares memorable incidents at camp and kunhang adds on to his stories with funny anecdotes that make you and ten laugh, while ten announces that his longtime boyfriend, kun, has moved into his apartment.

“so how’s it like living with kun so far?” you ask, ladling soup from the simmering pot in the center of the table for everyone.

“i’m getting used to my fridge having food and my kitchen actually being used.” ten replies with a shy smile that yukhei rarely got to see. “it’s only been a week and it’s getting messy in there, but i’m not complaining.”

“aw.”

yukhei hears you coo, and he can practically see the look of endearment on your face even though he’s focused on all the meat you’ve put on his plate earlier.

“and when are the two of you planning to tell us that you’re getting married?” the long-haired boy smirks, squinting at the gold band hugging your ring finger.

the question stunts you and yukhei and kunhang nearly chokes on his sprite. the innocent smile that was on ten’s face just seconds ago was now long gone and replaced with a mischievous one.

“married?” kunhang exclaims, his voice so loud that the couple in the next booth turns over to look. thoroughly embarrassed, he presses the front of his cap down to hide his eyes. “how am i not the first person to know this, yukhei?”

yukhei sighs. where, and how, should he begin?

as he glares at ten who’s enjoying this a bit too much, you set your chopsticks down and hold your hand out to an eager kunhang, who marvels at the piece of jewellery on your ring finger up close.

“so?” ten lets out a cheeky, high-pitched giggle at the look yukhei gives him. “did you guys just come back from telling your fam the good news or…?”

yukhei grins devilishly as he picks up a bean sprout with his chopsticks, ready to fling it at ten, but you’re faster than him.

“we’re not—i mean, we’re getting married. eventually! not now, obviously.” you chuckle in a flustered manner.

we’re getting married.

yukhei’s heart flutters at that sentence. he wants to hear you say that again, wants to be the one to tell his friends that.

“you’ll be the first to know when we do.” yukhei adds, nudging kunhang’s foot underneath the table, earning an eye-roll from ten.

“well, you better.” kunhang quipped. “we’ve been talking about this for years now. it’s time you two quit playing and actually get it done.”

“ah, so this is a promise ring?” ten cuts in excitedly. it’s now his turn to examine the ring as kunhang gets back to his food. “it’s so pretty. it definitely suits you.”

“thanks,” you beam as you pull your hand back. “yukhei got it years ago but won’t tell me when or where. says it’s a secret.”

the two boys gawk at yukhei right away and he sighs, bracing himself for what’s to come.

“oh xuxi, you romantic baby!” ten teases, clearly having the time of his life making yukhei blush tonight.

“so this is what you were nervous about!” kunhang scoffs in disbelief before looking between you and ten. “we were on the train back to the city and he wouldn’t shut up about being nervous for some surprise plan. and he just wouldn’t tell me what!”

“oh my god, you guys are so cute. it’s gross.” ten shakes his head. “you’re lucky i love you both!”

yukhei smiles bashfully. he was a little embarrassed at first, but of course ten and kunhang had to make it worse. he wanted to pull his beanie over his entire face and ignore everything.

you’re awfully silent next to him as you glance between your food and your lap shyly, your hair shielding your face from everyone else. a warm rush of adoration washes over yukhei and he finds himself gently adjusting your hair, tugging a loose strand behind your ear.

“okay, that’s it.” kunhang groans, grabbing his bag and pretending to leave the table. “thanks for the meal, you guys.”

“you can’t just leave!” ten exclaims, reaching for his cup of tea. “you haven’t asked _____ for her friends’ numbers yet.”

kunhang stares at ten, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in horror before he starts bickering with him — a scene that has you bursting into laughter and yukhei reminiscing the good old days where the four of you would hang out at the mall for hours after class. kunhang was always so starstruck by the popular girls at your all-girls school though you weren’t close with any of them. nothing has really changed since you entered university.

“you told me to remind you!” ten retorts.

“not in front of everyone!” kunhang cries dramatically.

“dude. it’s literally just the four of us.” ten deadpans. “always has been.”

“anyway,” kunhang rolls his eyes as he turns to face you. “so, _____. any of your friends single again?”

you do your best to look sympathetic before shaking your head. yukhei splutters out a laugh while ten pats kunhang’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

“this would be a lot easier if you were, you know, into guys.”

yukhei’s first kiss with you was, for him, a long time coming.

it happened at the end of your fifth date, after a day spent at the park.

summer had fully transitioned into fall and the weather was cool enough for the two of you to set up a picnic at a sunny spot. everything was perfect — from the calming sounds of nature to the desserts you both brought to the cute dress you wore underneath your sweater that matched the greenery around you.

more than a month had passed since yukhei first met you. with every date, the urge to hold your hands when you walked around in public and to kiss you and finally know what your lips tasted like kept growing.

yukhei smiled as he watched you talk about your week even though he already heard these stories since you text each other so much. your words went in and out of his ears and it was hard for him to concentrate because all he could think of was whether you liked him too.

there were moments that made him consider it a possibility, like how you surprised him with his favourite snacks after one of his javelin practice sessions or the way you would smile when you caught him staring at your face.

he was torn between over-romanticising those moments and acknowledging them as the plain and simple fact that you liked him too.

he felt it again as the two of you watched the sun set and slowly sink into the horizon across the river, the sky dissolving into hues of orange.

the scene in front of him was majestic, but yukhei could only concentrate on how close to him you and him were. so close that your arms were brushing against each other’s, so close that you could rest your head on his shoulder if you leaned a little.

“i like this a lot.” you said out of the blue, your eyes still fixed on the sunset in the distance. you leaned back, anchoring your palms against the mat to make yourself comfortable.

“i like you a lot.”

yukhei couldn’t stop himself. those words had been kept inside him for too long.

silence hung in the air as your proximity grew tense. yukhei couldn’t see your face and he was starting to think that maybe it was for his own good. when he felt you sitting up straight and he held his breath, expecting the worst.

“i like you too.” your voice was barely audible and you sounded just as nervous as he did, but yukhei heard you loud and clear.

his eyes widened as he turned to you at the speed of light. you had been looking at him nervously but as soon as your eyes met, your gaze quickly flickered towards your hands that were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater.

“really?” yukhei placed his hand over yours, gently circling the back of it with his thumb. “you like me… in that way?”

“yeah.” you mumbled, resting your head in the nook between his neck and shoulder exactly how he had pictured in his mind earlier. “i like you. a lot.”

relief flooded yukhei’s veins and he could finally breathe hearing you say the words he had so badly wanted to hear. nothing else mattered in that moment, because all he could think of was you seeing him in the same light he saw you in.

and suddenly, everything made sense to him. how could he be so stupid, after all that had happened in the past few weeks? the way you’d remember the little details of things he told you and how you’d blush at his terrible pick-up lines? of course you liked him too.

“what are you thinking about?” you squeezed his hand as you pulled back to look at him.

your face had never been so close to his. yukhei could count your eyelashes and have a proper look at your lips that looked soft and velvety. everything about this moment made it impossible for him to ignore what he had been dreaming of doing.

“can i kiss you?” yukhei asked.

all he could remember was how your eyes lit up instantly, every trace of worry fading away as an innocent smile graced your face. then you leaned in and closed your eyes just as he did, your lips meeting in a long awaited kiss.

yukhei cupped the side of your face with one hand, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your cheekbones. he felt himself sink into the feeling of your fluffy lips moving languidly against his, the way they tasted sweet like the strawberry shortcakes you shared earlier.

it took everything in yukhei to not whine when you pulled away to catch your breath, even though the kiss was probably longer than it should have been. he could still feel the butterflies in stomach as you pressed your forehead against his and he didn’t want them to fade away so soon, so he spoiled you with a few chaste kisses in a row that left both your lips tingling by the end.

“been wanting to do that for a long time.” yukhei beamed.

he reached for your hand that had been on his knee and interlocked your fingers — a small gesture he could now make anytime he wanted, and that made him a very happy boy.

the sun was almost gone but even under the dim fluorescent lighting from the street lamps, yukhei could tell that you were flushing and giddy with affection like him. the golden hour casted a warm orange glow onto your skin and you couldn’t look more like the girl of his dreams.

“i know. me too.”

the butterflies in yukhei’s stomach fluttered wildly at the sound of your airy chuckle. there was nothing that could take away the smile on his face.

yukhei did not expect to wake up to the sight of you in nothing but his camo jacket.

the lack of body heat woke him up and he found himself once again lying alone in bed and wondering where you were — but all his thoughts flew out of the window when he heard the bedroom door creak and saw you stepping back in.

he had to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and that you were indeed, dressed only in his camo army jacket.

you’re standing beforeyour dresser to examine the love mark yukhei branded on your neck the night before, oblivious to how he’s silently observing you and getting hard again.

there’s something about the way his jacket reaches your midthigh and teasingly moves upwards to offer him a glimpse of your ass each time you lifted your hands to run over your skin that turns him on so much. and he has seen you in his t-shirts and muscle tanks many times before, but none of that could compare to how you looked right now and he has no clue why so.

maybe it’s the consecutive months of being deprived of your touch and having to picture your body as he took cold showers to relieve himself on some mornings. but he doesn’t have to rely on his imagination now that you’re here, in front of him, like a present waiting to be unwrapped and appreciated.

yukhei lets out a whine that gets muffled into the pillow, but you hear it immediately and whirl around in surprise.

“hey.” you smile lazily as you make your way back to bed, landing on your knees and crawling towards him.

yukhei’s eyes are glued to the gap between his unbuttoned jacket, which hangs loose enough on your body to bless him with the sight of your cleavage, the smooth expanse of your body, and as he lowers his gaze — your core between your parted thighs.

he’s visibly infatuated, and you clearly don’t entertain that as you sit on where his crotch is beneath the sheets, lying down on him to give him a quick smooch. your lips are warm and taste like lemon, which tells yukhei you just had your morning mug of tea.

“morning,” yukhei mumbles, slipping a hand beneath his jacket to rest on your back. your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as always. “this looks so much better on you.”

“yeah?” you chuckle softly. “hope you don’t mind, it was cold.”

“i don’t mind it at all,” yukhei smiles, raising his other hand to cup your cheek affectionately. “but i need you.”

“need you to warm me up, baby.” he says, his voice deepening with the next sentence. “want you to ride me in this.”

you’re looking down at him in a hazy gaze when your breathing pauses. you don’t answer him with words — instead, you slot your lips between his, never pulling away as you get on your knees and pull the covers off.

yukhei sighs into the kiss at the feeling of his cock standing tall and unrestrained, desperately begging for your attention. he lets out a heavier sigh as your hand wraps around his hard length and starts stroking him with purpose.

“just like that.” he groans, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his hips start thrusting into your grip. you line his jaw with kisses, making him feel pampered and content.

“want you too.” you purr.

yukhei hears how needy you are and tightens his grip on your ass, but you’re already one step ahead of him. repositioning yourself, you let your slick folds slide against the length of his cock as you continue pumping him, lubricating him with your own arousal.

the room is filled with desperate sighs. you’re grinding your clit over his tip when it becomes all too much for yukhei, who wants to be deep inside you already.

“baby,” yukhei mutters, squeezing your ass cheeks which elicits a loud gasp from you. “need to be in you now. please.”

the urgency in his voice prompts you to lean forward and stable yourself with a hand pressed to his chest. yukhei watches you guide his cock towards your opening before sinking onto him in one go.

“fuck.” his throat goes dry at the feeling of your soaking walls enveloping all of him and his jaw slackens as he takes a few moments to appreciate how it feels to be buried in you.

“yukhei,” you whine. “it’s hot.”

he watches you shrug his jacket off, letting it hang past your shoulders in a teasing manner. at this point, he just wants to rip it off you. but all he manages is a guttural groan before running his hands up and down your thighs.

“you’re driving me insane, baby.”

you giggle softly at his words, the sound ringing in his ears and going straight to his cock.

“i love you.” you tell him sweetly and kiss him again. then you plant your hands flat against his lower abdomen where his abs are, lifting yourself off him until only his head is left stretching you open.

yukhei grunts when you drop back down slowly and start riding him at a hypnotic rhythm. he’s too overwhelmed to say a word, too entranced by your breathy moans and the lewd image of your chest rising and falling.

you’re clenching around him in such a delicious way that all he can do is knead your asscheeks with his large hands and let out deep “uh-uh-uh”s.

“fuck,” yukhei hisses as he watches you arch your back, moving you hips differently to get the perfect angle.

“let me take over, baby.”

yukhei plants his feet flat on the mattress just as he feels a familiar tight feeling in his balls. you oblige right away and collapse against him, ready for him to fuck you senseless.

pressed chest to chest, he grips onto your ass firmly as he starts pounding into you from below.

the scent of passion and desire wafted through the air. his cock leaves and enters you at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping only getting more erratic with your cries for his name right by his ear.

“yukhei…” you cry weakly as his tip nudges your sweet spot again and again.

“i’m here, baby. gonna come inside you, you want that?”

“y-yes. miss you filling me up.”

yukhei curses, and you reach your high just seconds before he does. your entire body shakes in pleasure before he comes into you, flooding your insides with his warm release. he groans as you ride out your high and roll your hips, the feeling of you being warm and full all too heavenly.

after a short while of nothing but heavy breathing as the both of you succumb to a blissful state, yukhei removes the jacket hanging off your elbows and rolls you over with his softening cock still snug in you. he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling his face against your neck as your fingers comb through his hair.

“i love you.” yukhei sighs contentedly. “didn’t get to say it back just now.”

he hears you hum softly and feels a peck on his forehead. when he gains the energy to pull back and look at you, he finds your eyes already on him, half-open in adoration.

“i’ll clean us up, okay?” yukhei asks softly, his elbows pressing against the mattress as he moves to get up. he’s sure there’s already a mess on your sheets.

“no, don’t go.” you murmured, tightening your thighs around his hips in an attempt to lock him in place. you end up pushing him deeper into you instead, making him hiss. “stay like this for a bit.”

yukhei notes the clinginess in your voice and the way your hands trace love patterns along the curves of his back. he lies back down, joining your lips in a deep kiss.

“i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s so easy for him to do whatever you say, he realises. you have him wrapped around your finger because you’re just as clingy as he is — and only he gets to see that side of you.

yukhei had sex with you for the first time in a hotel overlooking the ocean.

it had been his first holiday with you. every december, yukhei would fly back to his mum’s hometown in thailand with his family to visit his relatives — that wasn’t anything new. what was new though, was you tagging along after his mum had enthusiastically asked you to join them.

the week-long trip was the most fun yukhei had in years. minus the shy introductions and teasing from his relatives who were overjoyed to finally meet his pretty girlfriend whom they’ve heard much about over phone calls, it was like a mini honeymoon for the two of you.

after catching up with his cousins in the first half of the trip, yukhei spent all the other days ‘having fun by yourselves’ as his mum had insisted. you ended up exploring the coastal town, hanging out at the beach, and eating the local food to your heart’s content.

the highlight of the trip for yukhei though, was finally being able to make love to you. the resort stay was a godsend opportunity after the many interruptions during your steamy makeout sessions in yukhei’s tiny bedroom. it was the perfect time and place that you both needed.

yukhei swore you were a goddess as you laid on the bed with your legs spread out, your hair fanned out against the pillows, patiently waiting for him to put the condom on.

it was his first time seeing all of you, your curves and body marks displayed to him like a work of art in a museum. he couldn’t look away, couldn’t ignore how rosy your face was from coming apart on his fingers just minutes earlier.

“is this okay?” yukhei asked tenderly, pausing when he stretched you out halfway. “can i go deeper, baby?”

you nodded fervently though the tense look on your face made yukhei unsure. he really wanted you to enjoy this too. sensing his hesitation, you pulled him down for a deep kiss.

“so tight, fuck—” yukhei mumbles against your lips as he pushed himself further into you, his hands caressing the underside of your thighs.

yukhei sighed, the pressure to not come quickly making him slightly nervous. it was difficult not to when your walls were warm and hugging his cock like a glove, letting him experience euphoria like never before.

“beautiful.” his voice gentle as he gave you an open-mouthed kiss. “all mine.”

as soon as you signalled for him to move, yukhei took charge, thrusting into you slowly as he gauged your reaction. his pace quickened after a while a combination of sighs and moans spilled from your mouth. your neck arched against the pillows, presenting him with the perfect location for a love mark.

but yukhei was distracted. he couldn’t take his eyes off your soaking core, couldn’t get over the way you stretched open to welcome him each time his cock slid all the way back in. he had seen his fingers disappear in you before so many times, but this image was incomparable.

“so deep,” you said breathlessly, your fingernails digging crescent moons into his back.

yukhei looked at you. from the hair that stuck to the side of your neck to your lashes fluttered shut in pleasure, you were a sight to behold.

“yeah?” he kissed you sloppily. “does it feel good?”

“yes—oh!” you whimpered just as yukhei’s fingertips landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where you and him were connected.

he drew circles on it with his thumb, groaning when you clenched around him. “you feel so good around me too, baby. you’re doing so well.”

yukhei’s thrusts grew uneven as he coaxed you into your orgasm. by the time he shot his release into the rubber, you came undone beneath him too, crying out in rapture one last time as your thighs shook intensely.

a moment of silence hung in the air as your pants slowly faded into deep and slow inhalations. seeing you come all over him, because of him, gave yukhei’s ego a huge boost. it didn’t help that you were trembling in sensitivity while he cleaned you up as gently as he could and muttered praises into your ear.

“yukhei,” you called him softly and he halted his movements, worried that he had accidentally hurt you.

“i don’t know if i can go out tomorrow.” you mumbled, covering your eyes with the back of your hand.

yukhei instantly relaxed, a smirk taking over his face as he threw the wet wipes aside. “we don’t have to go out, but i can carry you wherever you like.”

when you didn’t respond, he crawled over you and pulled your hand away. you avoided his gaze, looking at his chest instead.

“i’m serious, baby.” yukhei tilted your chin up and looked into your eyes as genuinely as he could. “we can stay in all day if you want.”

“okay. sounds nice.” your hand quickly hovered over your face again.

the smirk on yukhei’s face softened into a smile. it was amusing and adorable to him, how you could still be this shy after the night’s events. he felt as if he was in heaven and within the next second, he was placing kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. when you broke into a fit of giggles, yukhei couldn’t help but keep going. he finally stopped when your hands framed his jaw, guiding his plump lips back to yours for a short, innocent kiss.

“thank you for being so patient with me tonight.” you paused, swallowing a lump down your throat. “it was nice even though i’m a little sore now.”

yukhei’s heart grew three times at your words.

“is that all? just nice?” he smirked.

you pinched his bicep playfully and hid your face again, muttering something about him being so annoying.

“i’m playing with you,” yukhei giggled, pretty sure he had hearts in his eyes as he looked at you. “love seeing you get all shy for me like this.” and with that, he pulled your hands apart and trapped them against the pillows.

just as he was about to kiss away the pout on your lips, the sound of a door slamming shut thundered down the hallway and echoed in the room, sending both of you into speechlessness.

yukhei put his boxers on hurriedly, rushing to the balcony and sighing in relief when he noticed the lights in the next room a distance away had just turned on — a sign that his parents, who had been out the entire evening, have just gotten back. at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful that his plans for the night turned out well. he wouldn’t know how to face his parents if they overheard him and you, and just the sheer thought of it brought goosebumps to his arms.

“are they back?” you asked nervously, pulling the covers up to your chin.

yukhei nodded, turning the bedside lamp off before cuddling up to you. “we have to be quiet.”

“oh, we will be.” you yawned, making him smile and hug you more tightly. you responded by wiggling around in his embrace. “yukhei, i’m sticky.”

“don’t care.” he whispered against your skin. “just wanna hold my baby like this.”

after a few more indulgent kisses and sweet nothings were exchanged under the moonlight, you dozed off in each other’s arms.

the next morning, yukhei woke up to the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. you were already awake and sitting up with the covers wrapped around you as you silently admired the swaying palm trees outside. yukhei sat up sluggishly, planting a kiss on your shoulder.

you turned around to return a kiss to his lips, eyes still closed when you pulled away, the intimacy of last night clearly still in the air. you opened your eyes, looking completely lost in him just like he was in you.

“good morning to you too.”

the rest of the day was slow and relaxed. you both agreed to stay in the resort, and so the afternoon flew by as you lounged by the pool and dined at the restaurant next to the beach. safe to say, the sight of you in a bikini all day led to another intimate, even raunchier night.

yukhei thinks he’s ready to move in with you.

maybe it sounds a little impulsive. but that’s because there haven’t been a lot of opportunities for the two of you to live together, with yukhei studying at another university and you living in a shared apartment over the past few years.

but staying at your apartment over these few days has given yukhei a sneak peek of life under the same roof as you, and he loves it so much that he wants to be done with his enlistment duties and fast forward to the part where he gets to share a home with you already.

yukhei wants to wake up past noon on weekends and whip up a hearty brunch with you, wants to spend the rest of the day helping you with mundane tasks like laundry and watering all your plants.

yukhei wants to be there for you on days where you’re exhausted from grad school life, when you turn down his pleas for you to take a break despite being drained from staring at your laptop screen. but he’ll massage your tensed shoulders, take your glasses off, and pull you to bed where you doze off to his soothing back rubs and soft praises of how proud of you he is and how well you’re doing.

he craves that kind of domesticity even right now as you lay on top of him, your limbs entangled comfortably and your cheek squished against his chest while your eyes are glued to the great gatsby playing on the tv.

there aren’t any plans to go out today due to the simple fact that you were both too lazy to get dressed and leave the house unless it’s for food. and probably because, though you wouldn’t admit it openly, you want him all to yourself — which is fine because yukhei feels the exact same towards you.

the living room is hushed as you and him watch a drenched gatsby reunite with daisy in a lavishly decorated flower-filled cottage. you sit up just as the scene ends, elbowing the couch as you rest your chin on your palm.

“why are you looking at me like that?” yukhei asks. there’s an unsure look on your face that he can’t quite read.

“i think i remember.” you hold your other hand up, flashing the ring that has been making you so happy. “thailand?”

yukhei grins brightly, the top row of his teeth showing. he nods proudly, taking your hand in his to look at the ring — a thin gold band with a pale blue sapphire — and admire the way it gleams in the afternoon sunlight.

it’s just as beautiful as the first time he saw it in that gift shop in thailand.

yukhei remembers that day vividly. it was the last day of the trip, and both of you were shopping around for souvenirs for your friends back home. he caught you admiring a few vintage jewellery pieces by yourself as he stood in the corner of one of the many shops you stepped into that day, pretending to be interested in some touristy postcards. though it didn’t seem like much to him at first, he later noticed that you picked up the same ring a few times, looking back at it even as you walked away.

eventually, thanks to what he could say in his broken thai, he managed to charm the shop owner into reserving that very ring for him. yukhei secretly returned for them while you thought you were waiting for him to be done in the bathroom at a cafe. he felt a little bad at first, but he knew it had to be done or else he’d regret it so much in the years to come.

yukhei always imagined what the ring would look like on your finger. its design enthralled him when he first examined it up close and he quickly understood why you took such a liking to it — after all, anything vintage was right up your alley. little did he know it would look even more beautiful sitting on your ring finger.

“oh my god.” you let out a huff of disbelief as soon as he finishes explaining everything.

you’re speechless as your eyes flick back and forth between the ring and the coy look on yukhei’s face. this is the reaction he has been waiting for.

“yukhei.” your voice is fragile, like you’re about to cry any moment.

the smirk on yukhei’s face drops immediately. he does not like hearing his name from you like that.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you smile weakly, quickly brushing away the tears that escaped your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just love you so much.”

“and i’m going to miss you. a lot.” you continue before he gets to reply. “every day. all over again. i miss you already.”

“oh, baby.” yukhei croons as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you down for a tight hug. he rubs your back, feeling helpless at the sound of your sniffles.

yukhei knew this would happen. of course he did. he’s struggling just as much as you are to ignore the impending distance you’ll both have to deal with again — maybe that’s why he was clinging onto the idea of a future with you so tightly.

“we’ve talked about this. the sooner the better, right? ” yukhei says sadly, finding it hard to agree with himself.

“i know, i’m just being emotional again. i’m sorry.” you chuckle unhumorously. “i didn’t think i’d get to see you before the year ends, you know? but you came back. you’re actually here and i’m so happy.”

“and,” you prop your arm up on his chest, the promise ring once again in yukhei’s view. a moment passes as the two of you stare at it — the symbol of your love and future.

“i love you so much. i want to live the rest of my life with you, like the past few days.” you say resolutely.

yukhei is overwhelmed with happiness, love, and nostalgia all at once. suddenly he’s transported back to that park where you first kissed as teenagers, where he first found out that you liked him too. but loving someone and knowing that they love you back so much so that they want to be with you forever is something so much more special. it’s a privilege yukhei never thought he’d have.

and now, he does. as he looks into your eyes, he realises that you’ve blessed him with that privilege, and that you’re truly the best thing that has ever happened to him.

yukhei finds himself unable to express in words just how he feels at this moment. so he shifts your bodies around until you’re lying side by side, until all he sees is your face up close. he cups your tear-streaked cheeks before softly brushing his lips against yours, sinking in the warmth that blossoms in his chest.

“i love you.” he says delicately when he pulls away, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m so glad the universe chose you for me.”

the fond smile on your face falters as a tear rolls down your cheek and your bottom lip begin to quiver, the violins playing in the long-forgotten movie adding more melancholy than needed to this moment.

yukhei’s heart breaks as he watches you avoid his gaze and desperately blink away the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. but he knows that you two will make it, that the distance is merely temporary. and he knows you know it too. what you and him have is so strong.

“hey, look at me.” he whispers.

you turn towards him, your eyes curiously examining his face.

“i’m gonna come home. to you.” yukhei places a kiss on your forehead. “and it won’t be long. think about it baby, i’ll be out this time next year and we could be living together by then.”

“i can’t wait for that.”

“me too. you’ll get to wake up next to me everyday, but you’ll have to teach me how to not burn our pancakes for breakfast until they’re perfect.”

at last, the corners of your lips twitch and you chuckle into the sleeve of your sweater.

“how does that sound?”

“waking up to you everyday or the pancakes?”

“me coming home. and us living together.”

“like a dream come true.”

a moment passes as you smile at each other in a placid silence.

yukhei cups the side of your face with one hand, brushing over your cheekbone and memorising every little detail that adorned your face and made him feel at home no matter where he is. you lean into his touch, reveling in the warmth of his palm.

the fact that he only has one more day until he will have to wait months before he gets to be with you like this again makes his heart swell in longing. so he holds you close, enjoying the moment while he still can.

the first time yukhei told you he loved you, it was an accident — not really.

that morning, he was awoken by a ball of fur nuzzling against his bare shoulder.

he opened his eyes, looking around the room for a good minute before spotting a familiar siamese cat that was perched at the foot of the bed and observing him with its soft gloomy eyes like it had been waiting for him to wake up for the longest time.

“good morning, louis.”

the cat meowed once as if announcing its disappointment in yukhei before hopping off the bed and making its grand exit by squeezing through the slim door gap.

yukhei shrugged, reaching for his phone that had been charging on the nightstand right by the bed. a quick look at the time and date on his lock screen refreshed his memory, vaguely reminding him of the events of the night before.

he crashed against the mattress and let out a muffled groan into the pillows, shuddering at the thought of how much alcohol he had downed. he was absolutely regretting his idea of not having a birthday party, but instead an entire night of drinking to celebrate turning his legal age.

his final hours of being seventeen were fun, though. ten, kunhang, and a couple of other friends brought him to an upscale steakhouse located in the city’s nightlife district. but like every other boys’ night out, the night eventually descended into borderline chaos. in last night’s case, they went through too many rounds of drinking games and yukhei soon came to the realisation that he was the type to get all giggly and sappy when intoxicated.

yukhei threw the covers over himself and ignored the dryness in his throat, ready to slip back into slumber but he couldn’t. something felt off. he grabbed his phone again and there you were, smiling back at him in his lockscreen wallpaper.

oh no.

flashbacks of how he had asked for you last night and proudly claimed that you were “the one” for him came running back to him. he quickly unlocked his phone, checking his text messages.

[to: ♥][sent at 1:55AM]

hey baaby

baby

i miss u ;(

ii'm still with ten and. kunhang

he mahde me drink so muhch hheheehe

babyy reply me plz

i can seee u readin all of thiks :(

i miss You

[from: ♥][sent at 1:56AM]

oh my god yukhei

are you okay?

wru now???

[to: ♥][sent at 1:58AM]

hi bab

im OK

at tens place now…

he has 2 catss. theyre so Cute

anyway

i need to tell u sometxhing

its rneally imbportant

and that is i love u

u make me so happi

u r so pretttyjf n soooo smart

ur alsoreally kind.. lwiterally an angel

hdeheheheheheee

im so lucky to be youre boyfrjend

becayuse i get to see Ur smile everyyday. hold your hand whenegver i want

onlyi can call u Baby

did u know ?

i bet u djd not ;)

i l o v e LOVE you

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

[incoming call from: ♥]

declined.

[incoming call from: ♥]

declined.

[from: ♥][sent at 2:00AM]

why aren’t you picking up yukhei

you’re making me worried now

are you okay :(

[to: ♥][sent at 2:15AM]

hey _____, ten here. don’t worry about xuxi! he just passed out on my couch.

[attachment: 1 image]

i’m just gonna let him crash here tonight since my parents aren’t back anyway. feel free to pop by in the morning btw, i think he would be really happy. and sorry for texting you at this hour!! goodnight :D

yukhei stared at his phone screen blankly, the jumbled letters of his drunk texts burning into his eyes. there was also that picture of him sprawled across the leather couch in ten’s living room in deep slumber, with his shirt completely unbuttoned and a party hat strapped to his forehead like a unicorn.

“morning, birthday boy.”

yukhei’s heart jumped. he jammed his thumb against the button on the side of his phone, turning around to find ten’s head poking out of the door.

“how are you feeling?” ten asked. yukhei sat up immediately when he saw a glass of water in his friend’s hand. “like shit, i’m guessing.”

ten sat himself down at the foot of the bed, handing the water to an eager yukhei who gulps it all at one go.

“close enough. i feel like i’ve been run over by a bus.” yukhei replied, coughing to clear the raspiness in his voice.

ten hummed. “well, your girl came over with a lot of food. i think you’ll feel better after eating.”

yukhei’s eyes widened, his voice lowering into a whisper. “she’s here? now?”

“sort of. she went out to get coffee with guanheng but they should be back soon.” ten narrowed his eyes at yukhei, trying to read the look on his face. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing.”

“uh huh.” ten snorted. “you suck at lying.”

“okay, fine. i might have spammed her with some texts last night while i was wasted.”

“oh yeah, i saw those. you were crying for her for at least thirty minutes last night by the way.”

“fuck.” yukhei let out a groan. “let’s not talk about that. not now please, ten-ge.”

“okay, okay.” ten smirked. “only because it’s your birthday. now, continue.”

“i told her i love her. like, love love her.”

“oh.” ten paused, his expression fading into one of confusion. “wait, i don’t get it. is that a bad thing?”

“no, no. it’s not.” yukhei cut in quickly, glancing at the door every few seconds nervously. “it’s just—i haven’t told her that before!” he whisper-shouted.

“i don’t know how she reacted to it! what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

ten burst into laughter right away, his eyes squinting into crescents. “oh, xuxi. you’re so cute when you’re in love, you know?”

“i really don’t think you have to worry about her not feeling the same. but i do think you should go tell her in person soon.”

yukhei blinked, relaxing a little when he realised that ten was probably right. the older male grinned, ruffling yukhei’s bed hair playfully before leaving the room.

in less than five minutes the door swung open again, and yukhei tensed a little when he saw you, almost as if he had seen a ghost. he didn’t realise you were back already and had been planning to sit in anxiety by himself for thirty more minutes.

“you okay?” you chuckled as you walked over and sat next to him.

yukhei hummed as you cradled the side of his face with one hand, your thumb smoothing away the drool crust on the corner of his lips that he didn’t even realise had been there.

“someone clearly had a lot of fun last night.”

yukhei’s lips curled into a silly, crooked smile as you crossed your arms and pouted. your attempt at guilt-tripping him had failed completely, it endeared you instead and suddenly he felt like his drunk self bombarding you with all those confessions last night.

your lips eventually cracked into a huge grin. you threw your arms around his shoulders, doing your best to engulf his big frame in a tight hug which made yukhei chuckle. he loved it whenever you hugged him like that or let him be the small spoon when you cuddled.

“happy birthday bub.” you coo dearly, giving each of his cheeks a loud smooch which made his face scrunch up adorably. “are you sure you’re okay?”

“thank you, baby.” yukhei smiled, his mind completely free from his worries already. “i’m okay, just a little hungry.”

“well, it just so happens that there are loads of yummy things waiting outside. maybe even some of your favourite desserts.” you smirked enticingly as you grabbed his hand and stood up. “c’mon, let’s go eat.”

“wait.” yukhei’s breathing stuttered, pulling you back quickly. “i need to tell you something.”

you moved into the spot between his legs, waiting for him to say something as your hands hung in the air intertwined.

“what is it?” you asked.

yukhei looked up at you, taking in the curious smile on your face. it brought so much joy and warmth to his life and he could never get tired of seeing that.

“i love you.” yukhei said, each word rolling off his tongue so naturally. “all those texts i sent you last night? i meant every single word. i love you, _____.”

your eyes were glossy as you relaxed a little, sinking into his touch when he clasped his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. yukhei could tell you were recalling all those cheesy texts as you bit your lip shyly.

he closed his eyes just as you bent down to slot your lips against his in the most delicate way possible before whispering those three words back, as if they were only for him to hear.

“i love you too, yukhei. you make me so happy.”

“say it again.” yukhei asked, his voice laced with desperation even though he knew it was the first of many ‘i love you’s to come.

your cheek was soft and warm in the palm of his hand. you grinned, closing the distance between your lips once more.

“i love you.”

it was the best birthday gift yukhei had ever received.

as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

in yukhei’s case, the past five days have flown by quickly and alas, it is the penultimate day of his short vacation.

but he’s more than satisfied with how the week has gone by despite how short it felt. he managed to visit his family, catch up with his closest friends, recover all the hours of sleep he had lost while on duty, and most importantly, be around you literally every day of this vacation so far. he woke up and slept next to you, cooked and ate all his favourite foods with you, and interrupted every other activity with sex and cuddling sessions — and he wouldn’t have it any other way. just looking back on those moments brought a smile to his face.

his thoughts are interrupted when the door to your bedroom opens and you walk in with a small stack of laundry in one hand.

”thank you baby.” he says, taking the clothes he had worn in the past few days, that are now clean, from you. they’re still warm from being fresh out of the dryer, and he gets a whiff of roses when he holds them under his nose.

“you’re very welcome.” you plop down right next to where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, packing his belongings.

as yukhei stuffs his sneakers deep into the bottom of his haversack, you look at all his other things that have been laid out neatly, side-by-side, on your bedroom rug. he doesn’t pay much attention as you pick up his wallet and entertain yourself with its contents.

“is this what i think it is?”

you ask, pulling out a small folded piece of paper that was stuffed into one of the card compartments. the look of curiosity on your face morphs into one of surprise as soon as you unfold it completely and realise what it is.

“you keep this in your wallet?”

it’s one of the few handwritten letters you mailed to him during his first month in camp when he, like every one of his teammates, had zero access to their phones and gadgets.

yukhei still remembers how tough that period of time was. being thrown into a whole new environment and expected to adjust to a lifestyle that was the complete opposite of university life was not easy at all. not only was his freedom snatched away, he had to deal with a long list of strict rules and responsibilities dumped onto him. and as if all that wasn’t enough, he had to witness his newly-made friends live through the countless military break-up horror stories he heard from his seniors.

it was a lot, but he got through each day thanks to the camaraderie he shared with his team and those letters you had mailed him, since they were the only form of communication he had with you.

“yeah. it got me through some tough times, you know.” yukhei admits, watching you read through your own words.

each letter was detailed with updates on your life and things his mum told you to convey to him. they all ended with a short paragraph of best wishes and sweet words which yukhei appreciated very much because he was absolutely sick of hearing about duty and honour.

yukhei had no idea he was so sentimental. he’d reread those letters in your voice, stare at your handwriting, and hold it up to his nose to get the faint scent of your perfume. it was like a piece of you — which was what he needed to fight the homesickness gnawing at him.

“maybe you should write to me.” you mumble, refusing to look at him as you slid the letter back into his wallet. “i mean, if you’re not too busy. i would love getting mail from you even though we can text and facetime now.”

“i’ll try to, baby.” yukhei smirks. “my good morning and goodnight texts not enough for you?”

“no,” you drawl, rolling your eyes playfully. “i love waking up to a bunch of heart and rose emojis.”

yukhei laughs, going back to packing his things while you roll his clothes into bundles that would help him save space. after a short while of teamwork between you two, his haversack is stuffed and he’s done.

“don’t forget these,” you hand him his leather glasses case that had been sitting on your bedside table. then you’re on your feet, pacing around the room as your eyes scan every inch of the space, looking out for anything he might’ve missed.

“i’ve looked everywhere earlier.” yukhei tells you before getting on his feet too. he stretches his arms high above him and lets out a silent yawn. “i think that’s it.”

“okay.” you answer in a small voice.

now that you’re done helping him pack, there’s just one last thing left to do and it just happens to be the hardest task of all — you’ll have to say goodbye to him this time, tomorrow, at the train station.

that realisation settles between the two of you, once again compelling yukhei to make the most out of the time he has left. with a sad smile he holds his arms out, instantly drawing you into his embrace like a moth of a flame. you squish your cheek against him, hands locked behind his back as he hugs you warm and securely.

“you need to stop working out so much, your abs are hard enough.” your voice comes out slightly muffled. “by the time you’re out, i’m gonna be hugging a rock.”

yukhei grins at your words, bursting into full-blown giggles when your fingers poke into his sides and smooth across his tummy. the faint muscle lines that were there before he enlisted were now more defined, some even visible through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt.

“you say that like i have a choice, baby.” he replies. “i can’t just sit aside while everyone else does seventy push-ups and ten laps around the field.”

you let out a disgruntled noise and hugged him even tighter, as if you were trying to mold your body into his.

“and you like it. admit it.” yukhei teases.

“i do.” you murmur. “you smell so good, by the way.”

yukhei giggles at how quickly you switched the topic.

“it’s that detergent you’re using. i wish my clothes smelled this nice when i’m there.”

“i’m talking about you, bub. the way you smell. my hoodie doesn’t smell like that anymore.”

“the way i smell?” yukhei laughs. “and i think you mean my hoodie.”

“it’s been mine for a while now.”

“well, wanna give it back to me? since it lost its purpose.”

“okay. i’ll trade it for this shirt.”

you tug on the hem of his shirt as you look up at him, eagerly waiting for his response. it’s moments like this where yukhei wonders if you know you have him in the palm of your hand.

“whatever you want, baby. i’ll give it to you.”

the lovestruck smile on his face widens as he places a kiss on your forehead, drawing circles on your back.

“can i have it now then?” you ask innocently, but yukhei’s ears pick up the hint of playfulness in your tone.

“right now?” he asks.

“yeah. what’s stopping you?”

“oh, i’ll give it to you now.” yukhei tells you lowly.

the cheeky smile on your face morphs into an ‘o’ shape as his grip on your waist tightens, guiding you towards the bed where you both crash against the mattress. there’s a moment of silence as he hovers over you, suavely tugging his shirt off with one hand and dropping the crumpled fabric next to your face.

“thanks.” you whisper.

it’s hard to ignore the way your core is perfectly aligned with his when you’re lying underneath him in a hoodie and a pair of grey boyshorts that have been testing his patience for a while now.

yukhei runs his hands up your thighs to your sides, bunching the hoodie up to your chest. wet open-mouthed kisses are left all over the smooth expanse of your tummy and he takes delight in how hard you’re breathing.

“it’s no problem, baby.” he replies nonchalantly, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your boyshorts. “anything else you want before i take this off?”

you shake your head and shoot him a silly smile, and it’s all yukhei can remember before he embarks on yet another mission to please you with his mouth. then he makes love to you again, his warm touch roaming every inch of your body which he memorises to perfection.

later, when you’re both sated and holding onto each other like two long-lost lovers, yukhei dreams of you again. this time, he’s hiding another velvet box in an even bigger bouquet of roses as he sits nervously in a dimly lit living room, waiting to surprise you when you get home.

the thought of you being his forever is enough to make him smile in reality, enough to push him through the upcoming months of separation. yukhei was more than ready to be done with that.

it’s only been a minute since you’ve gotten home but the place already feels too big for one person — which is laughable because your apartment isn’t even that huge to begin with. now that yukhei is gone, it feels as if life has been sucked out of these four walls. it has reverted back to nothing more than a roof over your head and a living space for one.

after hanging your coat up and stepping out of your shoes, you stroll to the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring into thin air with the refrigerator whirring softly behind you.

even though it’s only three in the afternoon, it has been an awfully long day for you. the few hours you spent outside drained you and all you did was sit at a restaurant with yukhei and his family for one last meal before sending him off at the train terminal.

the meal was nice and the send-off was not as bad as you thought it would be. but it was still an emotional farewell and you shed a few tears despite it being nowhere as difficult as the first time he had to leave you.

you and yukhei stood at the train platform hand in hand until the train finally arrived and came to a stop in front of everyone.

you let ten and kun attack your boyfriend with their bro hugs first, followed by mrs wong who affectionately caressed her son’s face and repeated her fifth “take care of yourself, my little soldier boy” of the day, and lastly, a less-emotional mr wong who gave his son a few encouraging pats on the back.

looking around, you were filled with dread as you watched the same thing happen with every other soldier who was hugging their loved ones and waving goodbye to them.

when everyone left and when it was just you and him again, yukhei instantly pulled you into his arms, clearly just as reluctant as you are to face this moment.

this was it.

he pulled back, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you forlornly. you stared back at him, taking in how smart he looked in his uniform and the beret framing his beautifully sunkissed face, and mustered all the strength in you to not cry.

it was impossible. tears swelled in your eyes within seconds and you couldn’t help it, the harder you tried to force them away, the more they wanted to spill out. you silently chided yourself for how naive you were to have wished for a tear-free farewell.

“don’t cry, baby.” yukhei pleaded softly, his big eyes looking watery too. “remember what i said?”

you swiped your tears away with the sleeve of your turtleneck and nodded frantically, not trusting your voice at the moment.

“i’m gonna come home to you. we’re going to live our lives together.”

his voice was soft yet grounded with conviction, calming you down instantly and offering you the consolation you needed.

“i’ll be waiting for you.” your voice croaked and you rolled your eyes at how pathetic it sounded.

“i know you’ll be.” yukhei smiled, gently stroking your back. “and you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.”

“something else i get to look forward to.”

you tightened your arms around him, closing your eyes to really savour what it felt like to be in his arms one last time before forcing yourself to let go.

yukhei interlocked your hand with his, pressing a kiss to the back of it and stealing a glance at your favourite ring.

“i love you so much.” you said, adjusting the collar of his uniform thoughtfully. “eat well and be safe, okay? don’t worry about me. you know you can call me—”

he intercepted you with a long kiss to your lips, letting go only when you pinched his arm. unlike him, you weren’t bold enough to be this affectionate in public.

“i will.” yukhei answered breathlessly. “promise me you’ll sleep early and not overwork yourself while i’m away. i need you to take care of yourself too.”

“i promise.” you mumbled, locking your pinky with his as you looked around anxiously. “you should get going now. don’t want you missing your train.”

he squeezed your hand to bring your attention back to him. “i love you.”

“love you too.”

and with a final kiss to your lips, his hand loosened from yours, reaching for his haversack on the ground and swinging it over his shoulder in one go.

“text me once you’ve settled down?”

“i will, baby.”

after one last peck to your forehead, he turned around and trudged towards the edge of the train platform, where kunhang had been taking pictures with his sisters while waiting. you stood rooted to the ground as you watched your boyfriend’s figure become smaller, waving at him when he turned around to look at you one final time before getting onto the train.

ten and kun kindly gave you a lift home afterwards. you nearly teared up again when you walked past the parking lot and spotted the two of them patiently waiting for you in the comfort of their heated car. on the way home, they even made dinner plans and insisted you didn’t spend the rest of the day alone — which you were extremely grateful for.

you still have a few hours to yourself before meeting them, and it dawns on you that you should probably take a short nap after the sad amount of sleep you got last night. so you force yourself to stop moping and drag yourself to your bedroom to find a comfy set of clothes.

you spend what feels like hours under the hot shower that by the time you step out of the steamy bathroom, the skin of your fingers are wrinkly. just as you start combing your hair, your phone buzzes, its screen lighting up to show you a single notification.

you whisk it off the table, gaping at the sight of yukhei’s name staring back at you.

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]

hey baby i miss you ♥

[to: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]

miss you too :(

you guys back there already?

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]

we’re still on the train

i didn’t get to nap. kunhang snored so loudly :(

[to: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]

poor baby…

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]

it’s fine

your boyfriend is a strong man. a day without a nap is nothing :D

you snort at his reply. the typing icon appears next to his name so you wait for his next text.

[from: yukhei][sent as 4:12PM]

anyway, i left a surprise in your desk drawer for you

i think you already know what it is ;)

you don’t.

[from: yukhei][sent at 4:12PM]

i hope you like it baby ♥

you never know what to expect from yukhei because he’s always surprising you with the sweetest, most meaningful gestures. even the story behind your promise ring has you in wonder still. when you pull open the drawer and realise just what he had left for you, a huge grin spreads across your face and you take a second to appreciate the sight of it. he was truly something else.

there, carefully placed on top of the paperwork you had kept in the drawer, is an envelope with your name on it.

“yeah. you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.”

you reach for it, immediately peeping inside when you notice it’s unsealed. there was indeed a letter as yukhei had promised. you recognize the lined paper that he clearly tore off from one of your notebooks and assume he wrote this secretly while you were sleeping. the mental image of that melts your heart.

to _____, my favourite girl in the world.

i have been staring at this blank piece of paper for ten minutes now while you’re sleeping so peacefully. i still don’t know what i should write for my first letter, so here’s an old-fashioned love letter from your admirer for life, your boyfriend, and your future husband: me <3

you giggle to yourself like an idiot. it’s funny how a single paragraph could switch your mood instantly, how yukhei manages to make you happy even though he’s so far away now.

was that too cheesy? i’m sorry. you know i’m not a poetic person even though i wish i am. you’ll probably laugh as you read on but that’s okay, because i want you to be happy whenever you read this.

so where should i begin?

how about the first time we met? when i saw you sitting at the back of mum’s restaurant, i had butterflies in my stomach (is this how that phrase goes?) and quickly hid in the kitchen. do you remember?

the smile on your face grew as you continued reading yukhei’s letter. it spoke of the vivid details of all your firsts in your relationship, of the little habits you have that he adores. of the warmth and safeness he feels when he’s around you, of how in awe and inspired he is by you — and how lucky he is to get to experience all that for the past few years and hopefully, the rest of his life.

by the time you reach the end, you’re laughing and crying. you miss him so much.

i love you, _____. nothing else matters. you’re the light of my life and i hope i can keep making you feel the way you make me feel: safe, happy, and loved.

until we meet again,

wong yukhei

p.s. i hope you’re not crying. and if you are i really hope it’s because i made you laugh too much.

you reread the letter again, letting his voice linger in your head for a bit because you’re not ready to let it go yet. then you laid on the bed for a good fifteen minutes as you stared at the ceiling with his letter clasped to your chest, yearning for his presence all over again.

it’s going to be fine, you tell yourself. you can handle a few months without him. after all, you already have. and he’s never completely away from you, you realise, as you hold your hand up and admire the gorgeous ring shining in the afternoon sunlight.

for now, that’ll do.

306 notes · View notes

blrush · 4 years ago

Text

If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes, Part 3: The Honeymoon Is Over.

Ki Wan drew back his hand. Why had he reached out to Ho Seon like that? What was he hoping to achieve? It must be the exhaustion getting the better of him – yes that was it, he was just tired. In the warm room, under the candle light, Ho Seon had looked so handsome, like a painting of a prince and Ki Wan had felt the urge to touch the painting, and check if it was real. But Ho Seon was a man of flesh and bone, who reacted, and it scared Ki Wan out of his reverie and back to reality – a reality in which he could not afford to make such careless mistakes, or let down his guard.

He stepped back and mumbled under his breath;

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Ho Seon replied, as he brought himself to his feet. They stood apart, an awkward silence between them.

“Ah!” Ho Seon realised, “You spoke!” Ki Wan brought his hand to his mouth, he hadn’t even registered that he’d opened it!

“I’m glad.” Ho Seon smiled, “I thought you never would. I was almost wondering if you could!” He joked, relaxing them both.

Was this the right moment? Should he tell Ho Seon the truth now? The opportunity was presenting itself, he could easily use this conversation as a starting point…

“Come,” Ho Seon spoke before Ki Wan could make up his mind. “Let’s go to bed, you must be tired.”

Ki Wan looked at the bed, then back to Ho Seon.

“Not “to bed”, in that way, I mean to sleep.” Ho Seon assured him.

They were both already down to their under garments, and Ki Wan was tired enough to fall asleep as he was, even though the layers of bandage-like fabric were tight and constricting on his chest and he would rather sleep naked or in a light open robe, he thought that exposing himself was probably not the best way for Ho Seon to find out the truth.

He had never slept in the same bed as another person, and he thought it might prove uncomfortable, but he found the sound of Ho Seon’s deep breathing soothing, and drifted off peacefully, carefully curled up on his own side of the bed.

In the morning, he woke feeling properly well rested for the first time in years. He had never minded his room at home, and was always happy in his own company. But his room had been bigger, and colder, the only sound was the wind outside, whistling through the archways and halls of their empty home. He had no idea the comfort that a warm body beside you could afford. During the night, he awoke briefly, but simply watched the shape of Ho Seon’s shoulders slowly moving up and down and he was quickly lulled back to sleep.

Ho Seon was such a welcome presence, he emanated warmth and comfort. And whilst Ki Wan was still fearful of him discovering the truth, he felt a level of safety and trust already with Ho Seon. He began to truly believe, rather than simply hope, that Ho Seon would be able to accept the truth and Ki Wan’s reasons for his deception. He no longer feared any kind of violent outburst from his new husband, now - he just feared the look of disappointment that would inevitably colour Ho Seon’s normally happy face.

Apparently, even sober, Ho Seon was not easy to rise. He took an age to wake up, twisting and turning under the covers, grumbling and murmuring. Ki Wan found it exceedingly amusing, and lay happily under the warm covers for longer than he should – watching Ho Seon. Ho Seon eventually turned to face him, at first seemingly a little taken aback by another person in his bed, but then registered it was his wife and smiled – toothlessly, his eyes closing.

“Goooggmrrning” He mumbled. Then he opened his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and added in an overly formal tone “My wife.”

“Mmm morning” Ki Wan responded, muffling his voice beneath the covers.

Ho Seon smiled and gave a prompting nod. Ki Wan rolled his eyes.

“Husband” he added quietly. This seemed to please Ho Seon to no end and he smiled ear to ear, giving an enormous yawn and stretch before beginning to get up.

~ ~ ~

The next few weeks of married life passed like a blissful dream. Ho Seon spent most of his days studying, or tending to administrative work, whilst Ki Wan kept his mother-in-law company, doing housework or tending to the garden. Some days, Ho Seon would come out to the courtyard and set up his desk outside on the balcony. Ki Wan suspected he didn’t like to feel excluded from any possible fun they may be having.

Ki Wan found himself settling into a routine of family life, and he and Ho Seon would bid each other goodnight and good morning as spouses, but it felt more like they were children playing house. They both avoided touching one another, and Ki Wan still avoided speaking as much as possible without seeming rude. Though he began to relax, particularly around his mother in-law, who had insisted he call her ‘mother’, which at first Ki Wan found difficult as it made him sad to think of his own loss, but he eventually complied and it only added to the happy-family delusion. She didn’t seem to notice or mind his voice. In fact, she complimented him on it once, and requested that Ki Wan should read to her sometimes – a request that Ki Wan happily complied with, as he missed reading and studying, things which he used to enjoy so much in his old student life before his mother passed away.

One evening Ho Seon passed comment as they were getting ready for bed. Ho Seon was sitting on the bed, cross legged, expectantly, like a child would.

“How come you read to my mother, but you never read to me?” He pouted.

“You can read.” Ki Wan responded.

“Pleeasssse,” Ho Seon whined, “Won’t you read me a bedtime story? Pleeeaase? Wife?”

Ki Wan stifled his laughter, and threw a pillow at Ho Seon in lieu of a proper response.

Their comfortable pantomime as a married couple became second-nature, and Ki Wan almost forgot about the graveness of his circumstances. He knew deep-down this illusion couldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to shatter it. Their bubble was burst before long, not by either of them, but in the form of an unexpected visitor.

~ ~ ~

Ki Wan often bathed at the house, where they had a big warm tub which the maid would fill for him, and that Ho Seon would use after him. But his fear that the maid may walk back in at any moment, or that Ho Seon himself might barge in unknowingly meant that bath-time became more stressful than relaxing, and he could never really clean his body properly as the tub was too small and he spent most of the time trying to hide his naked body under the water. Walking one day near the river, his mother in-law pointed out a gorge where she said there was a natural spring that people could bathe in.

“I used to take Ho Seon down here when he was little.” She reminisced, “He used to love splashing around – he was so chubby as a baby! Aiiguuu, you will have such cute babies!”

The topic of children did seem to come up an awful lot with his mother-in-law, though Ki Wan normally brushed it off by acting coy and shy about the topic of baby-making. She never pushed him about it or asked intrusive questions about the physical side of their marriage, but she did always manage to slide babies into the conversation.

One morning, Ho Seon announced that he had to go into town on some business, and would take a few hours – whilst his mother-in-law felt poorly and said she would be staying in bed to rest. After helping her into bed, and reading to her until she fell sleep, Ki Wan felt a sudden rush of freedom and relief – he was alone! He immediately rushed back to the bridal house, collected clean undergarments, and headed out for the spring. He left a note beside his mother-in-law’s bedside, lest she wake and panic – or worse, come to find him.

Amongst the rocks and foliage, the spring looked tranquil and inviting. He carefully made his way amongst the trees, down the steep incline. He removed his clothing, and waded in. The water was cold but refreshing, and he dunked his head right under. Relief and calm enveloped him under the surface. He floated around happily, washing himself and swimming, revelling in the peace and quiet.

He knew he should get out soon, as his fingertips were beginning to wrinkle, and his mother-in-law was sure to wake eventually, but he was so relaxed he didn’t want to leave.

Giving his hair a final rinse, he dragged his fingers through a knot at the end and turned to where he had left his clothes on the rocks. He yelped with fright, a man was standing above the rocks looking down at him. He lowered himself further under the water, covering his chest completely.

He could only make out a silhouette, a tall frame, an adorned hat – a government official.

He dared not move, he could barely breathe. He had let his guard down for the first time in over a month, and this is what had come of it! The man began to move, and at first Ki Wan thought he was going to come further down the rocks to the pool, but instead – thankfully – the man turned and made his way back up to toward the road. There was no way of knowing how long he had been standing there. Had he been watching? How much could he see from up there? Had he simply wanted to use the spring, seen a young man bathing, and left? Or had he seen a woman in a state of immodesty? Either way, Ki Wan told himself that the man was a stranger so what should it matter to him?

But what should he do? Grab his clothes and head the opposite direction? But he didn’t know his way around the woods outside the property that well, he really only knew the way back to the Ryu house along the road. No, he would have to stay in the pool longer and hope the man left. But there was no way of knowing how long that would be. He sat in indecision until he could bare the cold no longer. Shivering he clambered out of the spring and put on his dress. Struggling and rushing, his clothes were now damp and he felt uncomfortable. But the afternoon sun had moved beyond trees and he was beginning to freeze in the woods. He would have to head home and hope the man had left the road. He tied back his wet hair and set off.

Upon arriving home, Ki Wan went directly to visit his mother-in-law, who was sitting up in bed, sipping some tea.

“Ahhh, my daughter, come sit beside me.”

“Eomeoni, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I hate wasting away the day in bed. It makes me feel like an old lady!”

Ki Wan cracked a smile. “Oh? But you don’t look a day over twenty-five!”

“YA!” She half shouted, half laughed. “Rude girl! I was a real beauty in my day you know!”

Just then the maid knocked on the door and entered.

“Ma’am, there is an officer here to see the young master. He has been waiting a little while near the stables. I didn’t want to disturb you, and I wasn’t sure where the young madam was. I told him that Ho Seon was away in town, but he said he could wait. Shall I put him in the guest room, or offer him some tea?”

“Ughhh” she harrumphed, “I’m not in the mood to see some stuffy old court official today. He can just wait for Ho Seon, he should be back soon.”

“With all due respect Ma’am, he does seem very high-ranking. And he is not so stuffy or old… he’s actually quite handsome.” She giggled and looked toward Ki Wan for some sisterly affirmation.

“Very well. Hwa Jin, since you are now the lady of the house, why don’t you go and tend to him. Just serve him some tea and make a bit of small talk until Ho Seon gets back. Oh, and then let me know how handsome he is” she winked.

Ki Wan tried to force a smile as he rose, but his heart was sinking. What if it was the man from the spring? It had to be, what other official would be out on that road coincidentally? He began following the maid toward the stables to collect the gentleman.

Perhaps he had not seen Ki Wan’s face? Who was to say he would make the connection that the person he had seen in the pool was Ki Wan? He had to calm himself down!

As they approached the stables, where the official was tending to his horse, Ki Wan was sure it was the same man. The same broad stature, the same high-ranking hat. He turned when he noticed them, he was – as the maid had claimed – young and very handsome. The maid introduced Ki Wan formally.

“Sir, may I introduce the Lady Ryu Hwa Jin, wife of Ryu Ho Seon. She will see to you whilst you await Master Ryu’s return.”

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Kim Tae Hyung, Head of the Department of Justice.”

The maid gave a bow, and shuffled away, leaving Ki Wan quaking with fear.

Ki Wan gave a polite bow, then turned for Tae Hyung to follow him through the courtyard. Ki Wan kept his head low and turned away from the man, silently praying for Ho Seon’s speedy return.

Ki wan showed Tae Hyung to the guest room, a simple room with a large reception area and a small alcove for bedding to the side. They rarely used it, but it was the most appropriate space for the man to be received, and for him to meet with Ho Seon if it were for business. Tae Hyung sat down at the table, and Ki Wan waited silently at the door for the maid to bring tea. Ki Wan was on edge, waiting for the man to speak. But he sat quietly, and Ki Wan continued to stare at his own feet.

Finally, the maid arrived with a tray of tea, which she placed on the table before leaving again. Ki Wan took a deep breath to steady himself, then went about serving the tea. He focused on his hands, looking down at the table, he poured two cups and handed one politely to the gentleman. As he did so, their hand touched, and Ki Wan wondered if it had been intentional on Tae Hyung’s part – as if he was trying to incite some sort of a reaction from Ki Wan – the kind of small gesture that might fluster a particularly prudish, gentle, or chaste young lady. Ki Wan made no reaction, and sipped his own tea. Then he sat back on his heels, placed his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, repeating the same mantra in his mind; ‘Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back…’

“Unseasonably cold today wouldn’t you agree Lady Ryu?”

Ki Wan nodded.

“A bit cold for a swim, wouldn’t you agree?”

He knew.

Ki Wan was petrified, unmoving. What had he seen? There was something sinister behind his light tone. Ki Wan was sure he knew.

Tae Hyung placed his cup down on the table and leant forward. He brought his hand up to Ki Wan’s face, grabbed his chin and forced Ki Wan to look up at him.

Ki Wan could feel himself losing control of his fear, his neck and ears felt flushed, he was gritting his teeth so hard it was nearly audible, and he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes. This was it, he was finished. This was not his kind husband finding out the truth, this was a powerful military man who probably had deeply strict Confucius values.

He examined Ki Wan’s face carefully, and looked almost pleased with himself.

“Hmmm… utterly convincing. But how odd. What’s a pretty young boy like you doing parading around as a noble woman?” He sounded amused, like this was all a fun game. Ki Wan was gripping his skirt tightly, and felt bile rising up in his throat.

Just then, Ki Wan heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the courtyard, and Tae Hyung calmly pulled his hand away – like he wasn’t at all bothered by the thought of being caught touching another man’s wife. Ki wan had never met someone so self-assured in their own sense of power.

Ki Wan heard Ho Seon enter the room from behind him.

“Ah! Kim Tae Hyung! I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry I had business in town. How have you been?” He sat himself down beside Ki Wan, and began to pour himself some tea.

“I’m well, thank you. I’ve been travelling the country on some royal errands. I heard you were getting married, I was so sorry I couldn’t attend.”

“Ahh, not to worry!” Ho Seon responded brightly, “It was a small wedding, just family really.”

Ho Seon’s exuberance and cheerful voice, which Ki Wan usually found so comforting, was like the sound of grinding metal in its contrast to Ki Wan’s mood and the tension of the room. Ki Wan was still fraught with anxiety and fear and felt like he was suffocating.

“I never pegged you as the marrying type” Tae Hyung began, “What changed?”

“My mother’s getting older, I guess she wanted a daughter to keep her company, and she was determined to see me settle down and have a family.”

“Oh?” Tae Hyung looked amused over his cup of tea, “Any luck so far?”

“Tae Hyung!” Ho Seon chastised half-heartedly. It was clear to Ki Wan that they were old friends, perhaps from school, Ho Seon’s easy manner and informal speech made that obvious. But Tae Hyung was fishing for information, trying to figure out if Ho Seon knew his wife’s secret – but his subtle jibes at Ki Wan were going completely unnoticed by Ho Seon.

“Tell me, where did you find such a beauty? I’ve never met another woman like her.” He looked directly at Ki Wan, with a smirk that, to Ho Seon, must have seemed like flirting – but to Ki Wan felt more like a threat.

Ho Seon followed Tae Hyung’s gaze, and for the first time since entering the room, finally looked at his wife. His smile quickly faded.

“Hwa Jin! Are you okay?” He sat up to attention. He reached across her skirts, and put his hands over Ki Wan’s. “You’re freezing!” He held Ki Wan’s hands tighter and gave them a squeeze.

“I believe your wife went for a dip in the nearby spring whilst you were out.”

Ho Seon lifted a hand to the back of Ki Wan’s neck, checking the temperature of his skin, he touched Ki Wan’s hair.

“You’re soaking wet!” He sounded genuinely concerned. But Ki Wan had barely noticed the damp seeping through his clothes. He was shivering from nerves not the cold.

“Hwa Jin, why don’t you go and get changed and get warm. I will get the maid to bring you some dinner.” He gave Ki Wan’s hands another squeeze, and prompted her to get up.

Ki Wan wandering aimlessly back to their bridal house as night began to fall around him. Should he have left Ho Seon alone with Tae Hyung, what if he told him the truth? What were Tae Hyung’s intentions? What was Ki Wan’s plan? He needed a plan. But he couldn’t think. He was still reeling from the shock of his encounter with Tae Hyung and as the night fell and the temperature dropped, he did begin to deeply feel the cold of his damp clothes.

He arrived back at their room, where he quickly tended to the fire under the house. Inside he lit a candle and began undressing. He hung up his wet dress and put on new under-dress. He was still freezing. He began to put on all the jackets and outwear he could find, then got under the covers of the bed.

Maybe he should leave? Run away into the night. What if Tae Hyung had him arrested, as a fraud or a pervert? What if he turned Ho Seon against him? But where would he go? Run away into the woods to starve or freeze to death? Before he could think of a plan, his eyes became heavy and he submitted to sleep.

He was awoken by Ho Seon gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hwa Jin. Hwa Jin. Wake up, have something to eat.”

At first Ki Wan thought it was morning, but the room was still dark and Ho Seon was still dressed.

“There’s some dinner here for you, you should eat something.”

Ki Wan begrudgingly sat up, his neck felt stiff and he was sweating under too many layers of clothing.

“Why are you wearing all my clothes?” Ho Seon laughed.

“I was cold.” Ki Wan drowsily answered.

“Mmhm”. Ho Seon nodded. He seemed himself. Not angry or scared. Tae Hyung must not have told him. Somehow, that make Ki Wan more unsettled. If he was keeping Ki Wan’s secret, was he planning on using it against him? A high-up military man, he could easily be the type of person to collect people’s secrets and use them to his advantage. This was Ki Wan’s crossroads, the illusion he had created for himself was finally shattered and he would have to make a decision. He would have to tell Ho Seon the truth.

Ki Wan starting shaking off the layers of jackets he was wearing, leaving a trial of clothes behind him on the floor as he went to join Ho Seon at the table.

“Wait.” Ho Seon stood up. Ki Wan froze. Ho Seon began approaching him.

“Your hair is still wet.” He said. Ki Wan sighed in relief.

“Oh.” He was still so drowsy, his limps felt heavy. He felt back to his wet bun – no wonder he had been so cold. He took out the pin and untied the ribbons. He rummaged around the dresser for a brush.

“Come here” Ho Seon plied, “You really need to eat something, you’re already so skinny – how can you go all day without eating. Mother said you were out half the day.”

Ki Wan sat down in front of the table and let Ho Seon take the brush from him. He slowly started picking at the food, but could barely stomach anything.

Ho Seon sat behind him, and began slowly brushing out his hair. It was a nice feeling. And Ki Wan almost began to fall asleep again.

“Tae Hyung spoke to me.” Ho Seon began softly. Ki Wan snapped back to attention, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Mmm?”

“He has a position for me in his department. He wants me to take it, and move to the capital.”

Ki Wan tried not to react. Ho Seon attentively kept brushing his hair, in long careful strokes down his back.

“Oh?”

“I told him I couldn’t take it. That my mother is too sick, and that you are just getting used to life here. But he said it was “of national importance”. I think things in the court are bad. He says he needs “allies”, whatever that means. I don’t want to go. I hate all the politics of court and I am perfectly happy living here. But he can be…. well, he is a difficult man to refuse – he’s powerful and … he said that it was really more of an order than a request.” He sighed.

“He said you would come with me of course, that we would be given housing at court. I am just sorry that you will have to move again. You just got settled here, and I don’t know what my mother will do without us – but she can’t make that journey she’s far too frail…”

He was rambling now, caught up in the rhythmic task of brushing Ki Wan’s hair, he was letting his own anxieties come tumbling out in a string of thoughts and apologies. Ki Wan had not seen him this anxious since their wedding night. He lifted a hand to stop the brush in Ho Seon’s hand, and turned to face him, their knees touching slightly.

Ki Wan had grown to love this space, their evenings together. In this candlelit cave that was theirs, where it was quiet and just the two of them. He knew he was about to ruin that forever.

Ki Wan took a deep breath.

“Ho Seon. I have something to tell you.”

TBC (Other parts here)

Authors Notes:

Yeah, sorry, trigger warning I guess? I made Tae Hyung a creep for added drama, cause every good Joseon drama has to have an evil antagonist.

And I hope you enjoyed my blatant references; to a certain natural spring in cloud recess and a little hair brushing reference to the gayest scene to ever pass chinese censorship.

Hope you enjoyed!

#trigger warning: the military 'friend' is now a creep cause I love drama #nobleman ryu's wedding #nobleman ryus wedding #choi ki wan #ryu ho seon #kdrama fic #bl fic #bl series #korean bl #wetv #Lee Sejin #kang insoo

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hanaasbananas · 4 years ago

Text

100 Ways to say I Love You Chapter 100

I love you (Ladrien, Ladynoir, Marichat, Adrinette)

AO3

Tap tap. Tap tap.

Adrien sat up quickly, scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Tap tap. It came again, more insistently. Plagg barely stirred from where he lay on the bedside table, and the sight only slightly calmed Adrien’s nerves. If his kwami wasn’t worried, then it was probably nothing.

For a long moment, he barely moved, straining his ears to listen for the sound, but whatever it was had stopped after two attempts, and his room was plunged into silence once more.

With a sigh, he lay back down—not that he’d be able to sleep, after what had happened that day—when he heard a muffled voice call his name.

“Adrien? Adrien are you awake?”

“Plagg, did you hear that?”

The kwami only grumbled, rolling over in his sleep and idly, Adrien rethought his stance on the creature being able to sense danger.

Squinting in the darkness, he rose from bed just as the moon broke through the clouds, illuminating his room, and showing Ladybug perched on his window.

Adrien blinked.

Was he dreaming? Had he fallen asleep without realising? But no—as he watched, Ladybug caught his eye and raised a hand, waving awkwardly at him through the glass.

“Sh-oh shit !” He swore, scrambling to open the window, letting in a cold gust of air. “Ladybug, what—what are you doing here?”

She shrugged noncommittally,“I just thought I’d check in on you….after today.” At his wince, she smiled sympathetically before shivering, and peering past him into his room. “Can I come in for a second? It’s absolutely freezing out here. This suit isn’t the best for keeping me warm, you know.”

He did know. Ladybug often complained bitterly about her suit lacking any thermal properties whatsoever. The topic came up regularly in the winter, and he’d begun to stash away jackets along their patrol route for her to use.

But of course Adrien didn’t know that. Chat Noir did.

“Yeah! Yeah, uh,” he shook his head, stepping back to let her in “yeah of course you can, here—” Leading her over to the sofa, the two of them sat facing each other in the dark.

Ladybug was the one to break the silence. “So…” She began “I’m really sorry I took so long to get you after you jumped, but the akuma—”

“Ladybug,” he interrupted her, “it’s fine. Honestly.”

“Are you sure?” her blue eyes were wide, and troubled behind her mask.

“Well, no harm no foul, right?” Adrien shrugged, laughing quietly when Ladybug made a small noise in the back of her throat. “Seriously though, you saved me, so...thank you.”

“I almost didn’t,” she muttered darkly, and shifting a little, Adrien sat on his hand, resisting the urge to smooth away the furrow that had formed between her brows.

“But you did,” he countered her. “There’s no point thinking about what could have happened.”

Truthfully, any terror he’d felt as he’d hurtled to the ground had disappeared the moment Ladybug’s arm had slid around his waist, holding onto him and slowing their momentum as she’d lowered them both to safety.

He’d barely noticed the cameras flashing, or Gorizillas’s bellowing from above, the ground beneath them shaking from the force of his movements. More than anything, he’d been mesmerised—by the determined set of her mouth, by the worry he'd seen in her eyes, the slight blush he’d noticed dusting her cheeks at their close proximity.

He was fairly sure his own face had been just as flushed, though that could be blamed on the exertion instead.

In that moment, as they'd landed safely on the ground, everything around him had faded into the background, all of his awareness narrowing down, hyper focusing on the places where they touched, chest to chest. It had taken all of his self control not to blurt out I love you , right there and then and the only other thing that had stopped him was Ladybug running off to fight the akuma.

“You’re right,” Ladybug sighed, breaking him from his thoughts. She smiled ruefully at him. “Everything worked out in the end.”

Rising to her feet, she unclipped her yo-yo, heading back to the window. Standing tall, with the moonlight bathing her in it’s silver glow, she looked almost otherworldly. “I’d better let you get to sleep.” Opening the window, she glanced back at him one last time. “Adrien…” she hesitated, "it means a lot to me—that you trusted me today."

"Of course—” before he could continue, she was gone, and his next words drifted away on the wind, carried far from her ears. “I love you.”

***

Years passed. Feelings waxed and waned, hearts broke and then knitted back together again.

And Ladybug cursed herself, hating herself for turning Chat Noir down so long ago, and so thoroughly that he had never broached the subject again, moving on from her and leaving her to be the one to pine after him.

She could appreciate the irony, at least.

The feelings hadn’t hit her all at once. Not like they had with Adrien. In fact, she hadn’t even realised when it happened. Chat had crept into her heart without warning, making a space for himself there until, barely making his presence known until she’d woken one day with his name on her lips and the sinking feeling that she was too late.

***

“Chat!” She screamed, his name tearing from her throat as the akuma found it’s mark—blasting him in the chest and launching him halfway across the square where he hit the wall with a deafening crack.

The rest of the fight was a blur until the cure was cast, and Ladybug barely spared the disoriented akuma victim a glance, sprinting over to her partner, almost bowling him over with the force of her embrace.

“Woah-hey!” Chat laughed, his arms coming around her, holding her steady. Breathing in deeply, Ladybug let her tightly coiled muscles relax, her frantic heartbeat steadying the longer she was in his embrace, feeling him—solid and breathing— underneath her arms.

Pulling back, she levelled him with a glare, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the tears in her eyes. Blinking them away impatiently, she poked him in the chest. Hard.

“Don’t do that again, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am!” Chat smirked at her and she scowled.

“I mean it!” Her voice was high, panicked. Chat softened, cupping her face in his palm, unaware of the effect his touch had on her, her heart stuttering in her chest, the urge to grab hold of his wrist, to keep his hand in place overwhelming.

“I won’t do it again, my lady,” Chat promised, his green eyes serious, locked on hers.

“I wish I could believe that,” she grumbled, finally stepping out of his arms before she did something stupid—like kiss him.

Opening his mouth, Chat paused, spotting something over her shoulder. Moving around her, he went to help the akuma victim—who had begun to look a little worse for wear— and she watched as he helped the man over to a bench, talking quietly to him as he did.

Affection bloomed in her chest at the sight. “I love you,” she said quietly, testing the words out loud, feeling how easily they rolled off her tongue. “I love you, Chaton.”

Chat turned. “Did you say something?”

“No,” she smiled, shaking her head. Maybe one day she’d have the courage to tell him to his face, but today was not that day.

“I didn't say anything.”

***

Marinette was amazing.

She was talented, and beautiful, and kind, and funny and so many other things.

Objectively, Chat had always known that, but it was only recently, as their friendship had blossomed—both inside and out of the mask—that he’d found himself noticing it more and more.

Especially with their new tradition of a movie night every Friday. It had begun when Marinette had moved out, and he had simply stopped by when she flagged him down from her window, but it had quickly evolved into something that he looked forward to every week.

The two of them would bring all her bedding into the living room after dinner, setting up a large fort for them to watch the movies in, staying up until the early hours of the morning or until they fell asleep, snuggled up together, their limbs entwined.

Their dynamic felt so natural to him. It was so easy to be around her, and it scared him sometimes, how much he ached to touch her, to take her hand and kiss her and confess how she drove him to distraction every time she was near. He had yet to find the right words to express himself though, and so found himself resorting to other, less overt methods to show his appreciation.

“Sit down,” Chat insisted, taking the dishes from Marinette’s hands “you did all this food, the least I can do is put the plates away.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “ Guests don’t do the dishes though,” she whined “stop trying to make me a bad host!”

“Maybe guests don’t,” Chat conceded “but friends do. So suck it up.”

“Fine!” She threw her hands up in defeat, fixing him with a truly impressive scowl. “But I’m gonna start on the fort without you then.”

“Go ahead,” he chuckled, making his way to the kitchen. “Bring those fluffy pillows as well—they were really nice last week!”

The fort was fully constructed by the time Chat returned. He supposed all those weeks of building it had finally paid off, but as he crawled through the entrance, he paused, taking in the sight.

Marinette had curled up around one of the pillows, fast asleep. It wasn’t entirely unexpected. Exam week took it’s toll on them all, and she had coursework deadlines as well which he’d spent many a night watching her freak out over.

Carefully, so as not to wake her up, Chat took the blanket, and tucked it around her shoulders, observing for a moment the slow rise and fall of her chest, her face relaxed in slumber.

Impulsively, he swept back the hair that had fallen in front of her face, and pressed a kiss to her brow. “I love you, princess,” he murmured, stroking her cheek softly before letting himself out.

***

“Are you even listening to me?”

Marinette blinked, looking up at Adrien. “Uh…” He regarded her with amusement, his hands shoved deep in his pocket, and once again, she found herself wondering how on earth she’d been so blind .

It was almost laughably obvious that Chat Noir—her partner —was Adrien Agreste, and yet she’d still been blindsided by the discovery. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste—the things that she loved about them individually were all facets of the same person. It was dizzying to think about.

They’d taken a few days after revealing their identities to come to terms with it, but truthfully, it had only taken her a few hours. The rest of the time she’d spent fretting over how she’d ever manage to be composed in front of him.

“Well?” Adrien prompted, nudging her playfully. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “No, sorry.”

How could she concentrate when all she could focus on was their close proximity as they walked through the park, their hands so close they brushed together with every step; so close she could reach out and entwine their fingers if she wanted to. And she did want to.

Adrien grimaced. “It’s still weird, isn’t it?” His shoulders hunched slightly, and he looked suddenly insecure. The sight made her heart clench in her chest. “Look, if you need more time—”

“I love you!” Marinette blurted out, clapping a hand over her mouth as he made a choked sound in the back of his throat, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Wh-what?”

“I—”

Grabbing hold of her hands, Adrien tugged her forwards, his fingers gripping hers tightly. His voice was low, and urgent, his eyes searching hers and she saw the hope in them, felt a blossom of hope bloom in her own heart as well.

Licking her lips, she repeated herself. “I love you. First as Adrien, and then as Chat, and now you’re both the same person ,” she stumbled over her words, struggling to articulate her thoughts. “And yeah, it’s a little overwhelming, but I had to say it, I had to let you know because—”

She broke off with a gasp as Adrien swept her up in his arms, spinning her around before setting her down on her feet. “You mean it?” he breathed.

Wordlessly, she nodded, her cheeks flushing at the ardour she saw in his eyes, the sheer happiness. Pulling her in for a kiss, Marinette clutched at his shoulders as his lips moved softly, tentatively against hers, and all she could think was finally.

Their kiss seemed to last forever, and not long enough, Marinette’s insides lifting and fluttering, her mind hazy, body burning from his touch, craving more, more more .

Adrien leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her skin, tickling the shell of her ear, making her heart soar in her chest in response to his whispered words.

Drawing back slightly, he lifted her up once more, laughing as she shrieked, arms circling around his neck and holding on tight, his words echoing in her ears, the most beautiful refrain she’d ever heard.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ladynoir #marichat #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #100 ways to say i love you

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finiteuniverse13 · 4 years ago

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home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he��s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago

Text

Where’s the light?

Charlie Weasley x reader

This is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: cursing

A/N: oh my dear Charlie. That man must be protected at all cost

It was dark outside as you and Charlie sat in the living room together. Charlie was watching a lousy TV soap, waiting for his favourite show to start, and you were reading a book in the light of the lamp that stood next to the couch. Charlie was lying in between your legs, his head on your stomach. One of your hands was going through his hair subconsciously, the other was holding your book.

‘…I’ll never forget you, David. But I have to go my own way,’ the woman on the TV said.

‘You mean you want to fuck his brother,’ Charlie said and you averted your eyes from your book for a moment, giggling at Charlie’s comment and looking at the TV.

‘She still hasn’t told him?’ you asked.

Despite the fact that the soap was awful, you and Charlie had been watching it since it was the only thing on TV before Charlie’s show started that was a little interesting. Over the past month you had gotten to know the characters and the messed up relationships they had with each other.

‘Of course not,’ Charlie said, looking up to you. ‘She’s way too-’

Charlie was cut off by a loud bang that sounded through the whole house and even outside. Your heart made a leap in your chest and you nearly fell from the couch with shock. Charlie immediately shut up from his place.

All the lights were out, the TV was shut off and there were no sounds in the house.

The power had shut down.

You groaned and closed your book. It was dark, but not so dark that you couldn’t see your surroundings. You placed the book on the coffee table and looked up at Charlie, who had gotten to his feet. He took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he left the room.

Leaning back into the couch you followed Charlie with your eyes. He walked through the hall and opened the front door, not even bothering to put on his coat. You rolled your eyes and followed after him, but not after you had put on shoes and a jumper. Taking a coat with you for Charlie, you left your house too.

The wind was howling outside, cutting like blades against your cheeks. The cold spread quickly to your fingers and you hid your hands in your sleeves. Wind played with your hair as you walked closer to Charlie, who was talking to one of your neighbours a little further down the street.

All the streetlights were off too and the street had a mysterious darkness over it. There were no shadows and everything seemed flat and dull.

Standing next to Charlie, you placed the coat over his shoulder. He nodded thankfully to you, while he kept on talking with your neighbour.

‘Probably those damn Christmas lights,’ the neighbour said.

You looked around and only now noticed that the few houses that always looked like a glittery elf had thrown up over it were now just as dark as all the other houses. The vibrant and colourful lights that normally were enough to light up the whole street were off.

Charlie took your hand and pulled you back to your house. Inside you welcomed the warmth and kicked your shoes off. But soon, as you sat back in the living room, you noticed that not only had all the lights turned off, so had the heating. Though it wasn’t as cold as outside, it still was freezing in your house.

While you searched for a blanket, Charlie entered the living room with his arms full of candles. He placed them all around the living room; on the coffee table, in the bookcase, the windowsill and even a few on the ground against the walls. After he had lit them a warm yellowish light filled the living room and the space soon got back some of the cosiness it had lost in the dark.

You sat back on the couch with the blanket open so Charlie could sit next to you. He lumped himself on the sofa and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his body. You threw the blanket over your legs and rested your head on Charlie’s shoulder. His cold fingers drew shapes on your bare skin under your sweater, while he pressed his lips on the top of your head.

The candles made flickering shapes on the walls. Outside the world turned darker. The stars shone fiercely as the only sources of light in the sky.

After some time you fell asleep in Charlie’s arms and it didn’t take long for him to doze off too. The candles burned out after a while and darkness crept into the room, like it did every night. But where you normally woke up in your bed with an alarm, you now woke up with a stiff neck to the loud sound of the TV.

As you opened your eyes you were welcomed with the bright moving colours of a fishing show on TV. Without waking Charlie up you leaned forward to take the remote and turn down the sound.

There was a soft blue light that came through the windows and you realise that it still was before sunrise. There were little dewdrops on the windows and the air inside the house was cold and a little humid.

You stared at the TV for a while, too awake to fall back asleep but too tired to notice what you were watching. The man on the TV started to talk about fishing rods and you let the moving persons on the screen make their way to your blurry mind.

‘Fishing?’ Charlie’s low morning voice mumbled.

You hummed and shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

Charlie moved beside you and he pulled you with him from the couch. He took the remote from your hand and turned off the TV.

‘Come on, let’s go to bed,’ he mumbled.

The blanket was still over both your shoulders as you walked up the stairs to your bedroom. Without changing your clothes you crawled under the duvet and sheets and pulled them up to your neck. Charlie lied down next to you and pulled your back against his chest. His arm lied casually over your waist and his chin nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

‘Sleep well, love,’ he whispered in your ear, tightening his arms around you.

‘Sleep tight, Charlie.’

-----------

Taglist:

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme

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#all i want for christmas if fanfiction #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley #harry potter

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aubreyprc · 4 years ago

Text

In My Veins 3

part 1 part 2

All that you can save

Will leave you in the morning

And find you in the day

Walking out of the room knowing he’d have to leave her there, alone for the rest of the night, made him feel sick.

“She shouldn’t be alone.” He said to Dave when the older man had come in after waiting a few moments too long.

“You need to get some rest.” Dave told him, “You can’t stay here. Visiting hours are strict.”

“But she-“

“Aaron.” Dave said, and the man looked at him, tears flooding his eyes. “I know you don’t want to, but you have to. Come on. I’ll drive you back here first thing in the morning and I will sort out about her transferring. You know she wouldn’t want you making yourself ill, let’s go to the hotel, you can have a shower, get some rest and you’ll be back here before you know it.”

Hotch just nodded and followed the older man out of the room, giving Emily one last look before closing the door, the last thing he heard being the sound of the ventilator signaling that air was in her lungs.

Now sat driving away from the hospital, he discovered that leaving there without her was worse than anything he’d ever felt before.

“I’ve spoken to Strauss.” Rossi tells him, “She’s agreed to allow you the next three days off, while Emily is still touch and go. But I’m afraid she can’t allow any longer than that.”

“Okay.” Hotch says, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know, no one would blame you if you weren’t..” Rossi tells him, “Emily means a lot to all of us, but especially you. And I don’t think you’ve really processed this yet.”

“I’ve processed it.” Hotch tells him, staring at a spot of blood on his wrist.

“Aaron...”

“Dave I said I’m fine.” Hotch snaps, so the older man just nods his head and drops it.

Once at the hotel, Rossi hands him his key and watches as he takes it with a sort smile.

“Get some rest.”

“You too.”

As soon as he’s alone, all he has left to listen to is his own thoughts. He turns on the shower and hops in, watching the last of her dried blood fall from his body and down the drain, tears sting in his eyes as he stares at it. The burning water helps, giving him something else to focus on, but every time he closes his eyes he sees her. First, it’s flashes of her smiling, either at him, his son, or in the distance, then it’s her under the car, gasping for breath, bleeding, choking, then she’s on a ventilator and he snaps his eyes open, unable to see it anymore. He starts to wonder if he’ll ever forget.

Laying in the bed was unbearable, his mind running through every single scenario that could happen. He remembers the doctor telling them that in the event that she does wake up, there is a possibility for brain damage. What does that even mean, brain damage? There are so many forms of it, he realises, and the reality of that happening… he rubs a hand over his face, forcing himself to not think about it. He can’t think about it, not when he doesn’t know what to expect. He would love her no matter what, he knows that, he hopes she knows that too.

His only thoughts as he stares at the ceiling are the moments he felt everything change.

They were on the phone with them, when the accident happened. The sound of the car being crashed into and sent rolling over and down a hill over taking the speaker until the line goes dead.

“What just happened?” Garcia asks from her office in Quantico, already preparing herself for the drive to North Carolina.

“Something happened… a crash, maybe?” Rossi questions, before looking at Hotch.

“Were calling them back, can you get the location of the SUV?”

“Absolutely, Sir.” Garcia agrees, quickly getting the SUV’s GPS up. “It looks like..it went off route.” She tells them, “Last known location was on park..” Garcia stops, “It says here that they’ve been discontinued only for a few minutes.”

“They were heading in that direction.” Rossi says. He looks at Hotch, noticing the man’s panic, and places a hand on his arm.

“Come on,” He says softly, “I’m sure everything is fine.”

Hotch just nods and follows the older Agent out of the station while one of the Police Officers calls 9-1-1, letting them know about the accident.

The drive was silent, both too worried about what they were going to find to even think about communication, as they arrived at the SUV’s last known location the sight of a mashed up front lorry, smoking at the front while other pedestrians piled around, pointing at the hill below them, panic had never risen within the men so fast. Rossi parked the car quickly, stopping just as Hotch jumped out. Rossi ran after his friend, but the Agent was quick, just on his heels Dave stopped just as Hotch did and followed his eyes down to where he was looking, and there they were.

The SUV was on its side, smoke coming from the front of it, one side of the vehicle completely gone, as though the force of the crash pressed it into the other side.

The first person they noticed was JJ, who was talking to Derek about something while grabbing the side of her head. Morgan stood in front of the car, desperately trying to lift something up, Reid then came into view, bending down and looking as though they were talking to someone.

The two men ran down the hill, the sound of their footsteps grabbing the trio’s attention.

“What happened?” Rossi asked as they stood in front of them, Hotch looked at JJ, who stared back at him.

“That lorry ran a red light, crashed right into us.” Morgan answered, “Hotch..” He said softly, and then man’s eyes went from JJ’s to Morgan’s. “I can’t lift it.”

“Can’t lift wha-“ He paused, and wondered why the man was blocking him from passing him, “Where’s Prentiss?”

Morgan looked at him, sadness and guilt written all over his face, just as he went to answer, Spencer popped up from the floor and lifted his head over the roof.

“She’s conscious.” Reid told them and Hotch quickly ran to the other side of the SUV, before freezing, staring at the scene in front of him.

Emily, trapped under the car door from the hip down.

He rushed to her and dropped to his knees at her side while Reid looked at Morgan as he hurried to the side to once again, try and lift the trapped door that held their friend.

“Hey,” Hotch said to her softly, smiling at her as he rubbed a hand over her forehead, brushing hair away from it. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like i’m being- weighed down by eight tons of metal.” She whispered, trying to make a joke. Her breaths were harsh and horsed, as if someone was leaning on her throat.

“Probably because you are.” He grinned back, her laugh made him smile before she began to choke, he gently rubbed his hand acorss her head. “Shh, shh, relax.” He told her gently, “Just breathe, okay? Don’t try to speak.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes fluttering closed before opening again when she felt his other hand grab onto hers.

“They’re going to try and get the door off you, okay? Try and stay still.”

“They’re- not going to be able-“ She said crockly, her voice barley recognisable.

“Don’t say that.” He told her, “You’re going to be okay, just stay with me.”

Reid and Morgan tried another three times to lift the door to no avail.

“It’s trapped underneath something and it’s..” Morgan said breathlessly, “It’s too heavy.”

Hotch went to answer them when Emily began coughing. He gently moved her head to the side as blood came from her lungs, spluttering acorss the ground and her lips.

“The paramedics are four minutes out-“ Rossi said, stopping half way through his sentence as he turned away from her, the sight of her coughing up blood enough to send him into a full panic.

“You’re okay.” Hotch whispered to her as her coughs slowly stopped, “You’re okay.”

She shook her head, grasping onto his hand and looking at him.

Before he could say anything, there was a thud as Spencer fell to the ground. Morgan’s shout for him made him look up and he stopped breathing as the genius laid limp on the floor.

“Spencer?” Morgan said, cupping the man’s face. He placed two fingers on the side of his neck with shaky hands, a sigh of relief leaving him as a pulse beat back. He placed a hand on the man’s chest and frowned when he felt a slight bump. He undid he top and gasped at the sight of the purple bruising around his chest.

Morgan’s shouts zoned out of his ear shot when Emily’s hand went limp in his own.

He shook her gently, smiling down when her eyes fluttered open.

“Stay with me.” He begged her, tears rolling down his face. “You’re going to be okay.”

“No..” She said breathlessly to him, “Aaron-“

“Don’t-“ He pleaded, squeezing her hand.

“It’s too late,” She gasped, breathing becoming more of a challenge as her lungs and chest filled up with blood from the weight of the door rested on her body. “Look at me.” She asked, he did. “ I love you.” She whispered, a smile forming on her face as tears slid down her cheek.

Hotch smiled, wiping her tears and nodding, “I love you too.” He whispered back, “Please. Please just hang on for me.”

Emily swallowed her coughs and squeezed his hand, her mouth opened as though she wanted to say something but her breath caught in her lungs before she choked, blood coming up once again, then nothing. Her eyes fluttered closed and his heart hammered in his chest.

“Emily?” He called, stroking her cheek gently, “Come on. Wake up.”

Sirens could be heard in the distance as Rossi stared on.

Both Emily and Reid unresponsive to the calls from their love, a heartbreaking scene he’s only ever saw in movies.

Hotch watched as Emily was lifted from the ground and onto a gurney, before being quickly pushed into the back of an ambulance. He followed and with the nod of an EMT, jumped in, grabbing Emily’s hand.

“Do you want to hold onto this for her?” The EMT asked him, holding out her necklace. He nodded and gently took it, staring at it as he focused on the sounds of her heart coming from the machine.

No one sleeps that night. It’s fairly obvious that it was a restless night for all of them when they meet in the hotel lobby, dark bags under their eyes. JJ stares off out of the glass window of the hotel, her mind running with all the scenario’s that could happen in the next few days, she gently takes a breath and closes her eyes, trying to force herself not to cry. She turns her head slowly as she feels the presence of someone next to her, smiling sadly when Rossi’s soft eyes stare back at her.

“Did you get any sleep?” He asks her gently.

“Not even a little bit.” She chuckles, shaking her head, “Every time I closed my eyes i saw-“ She stops, swallowing and looking to the floor.

“I know.” He nods, looking out of the glass window, “I think Emily might be the only person getting a decent sleep for the next few days.” He gently teases in a way he only really does with Prentiss.

JJ laughs, nodding her head. “She’d love that.”

Rossi smirks, rubbing a hand over his face, before turning at the sound of two muffled voices behind him.

“You ready to go?” Derek asks them as he, Garcia and Hotch arrived in the lobby, all three looking worse for wear.

“Yeah.” JJ nods, sending a sad smile to Hotch, who smiled back as best he could.

“Come on.” Rossi says, leading the younger members out of the hotel and towards the SUV.

Arriving at the hospital, Rossi put himself on coffee duty, Morgan went to see Spencer, wondering if he’s ready for travel if they’re able to go home today, the other three heading to see Emily when they spot her doctor and two nurses leaving her room.

“What’s going on? Aaron asks the doctor, who stopped and looked at the three of them.

“Agents,” He greets. “Don’t worry, Agent Prentiss is fine. There’s been no change, which at this stage is a good thing.” He says to them.

“No change is good?” Garcia questions.

“At this stage,” He tells her with a nod, “Of course there is the hope for her to improve, but at this moment, keeping her stable is the main priority. Especially is you’re thinking of transporting her to your local hospital back in Virginia.”

“Do you still think that’s a good idea?” JJ asks.

“There’s always a risk.” He nods, “But in her condition I do think being at her local hospital is for the best, for her but also for you.” He smiles at them, “I’ll be talking to the rest of her doctors today and we will be speaking to the doctor in Virginia and we’ll know by this afternoon if the transfer is possible.”

The three of them nod, “Thank you.” Hotch says, before the doctor smiles and heads off and the three go to sit with Emily.

Morgan helps Reid into his shirt, before resting his hands on the side of his face.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He smiles, Reid laces his fingers through the ones rested on his cheeks and smiles.

There’s a knock at the door and the two men turn.

“Knock Knock.” Garcia smiles. “It’s good to see you up, boy wonder. Are you being released?”

“Not today.” Reid tells her, “But the nurses think I should walk around for a few minutes to try and help my body recover faster.”

“What’s going on with Emily?” Morgan asks as he gently grabs Spencer’s hand and helps the man stand up.

“They’re talking about transport, they think it’s a good idea. For her and us.”

“Do you know if it will be today?”

“Not yet.” Garcia smiles, “Do you know how much longer you’re being kept in?”

“A few more days.” He huffs, Garcia laughs.

“You had major surgery, Reid.”

“I know but-“

“Is there a but?” Garcia asks, raising an eyebrow. The young agent looks to the floor, mumbling something before taking a step forward, Morgan’s hand laced through his own.

“How is Emily?” Derek asks.

“No change. The doctor said that’s a good thing for now.”

“I suppose so.”

Hotch jumps when his phone rings, a sound that also startled JJ. He sends her a quick apology before grabbing his phone and leaving the room.

“Hotchner.” He says, leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” Jessica says, “How’s Emily?”

“No change.”

“Are you still coming home today?”

“That’s the plan but-“

“Hey.. there’s no rush. Jack’s fine. I’ll watch him for as long as you need.”

“Have you told him anything?”

“No, I didn’t know what to say. I thought best you talk to him.”

“Yeah..” Hotch sighs, “Is he around?”

“He sure is.” Jesscia says, before handing the phone to a bouncing six year old.

“Hey Daddy!” Jack shouts happily, “Are you coming home today?”

“That’s the plan, buddy.” He says. “How was school yesterday?”

“It was okay.” He groans, still getting used to waking up before eight. “Did you catch the bad guy?”

“Sure did.” Hotch laughs, he hears Jack giggle and it fills him with that little bit of joy he’d needed.

“Are you with Emmy?” Jack asks, and Hotch feels his breath hitch in his chest, he swallows.

“No buddy, not right now.”

“Oh.” The six year old replies in a sad tone, “I wanted to tell her about the book we was reading before you both left.”

“Did you finish it?”

“Yep!” He says happily, “Me and Aunt Jess read it all.”

“Good. Did you like it?”

“Yeah!” He laughs, “Will you tell Emmy?”

“Of course.” He says, trying to force his voice not to break.

“Daddy I have to go to school now.” Jack sighs, “Will you be here when i get home?”

“I hope so.” He says, “I love you.”

“Love you too daddy.” Jack says, and the six year old ends the call.

“How’s Jack?” Rossi says, coming from nowhere and makin Hotch jump.

“He’s good.” Aaron nods, “He wanted to.. speak to Emily.”

“He’s gotten use to having her around.”

“Yeah..” Hotch says softly, “What do I tell him?”

“I don’t know.” The older man says honestly, “I guess you’ll know when you see him.”

“Have you heard anything about moving her to Virginia?”

“They’re talking with some doctors there now. We should know in a few hours.”

Hotch nods and he and Rossi head back into the room.

JJ smiles up at them from over her book.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Yeah.” Hotch says, JJ nods before looking back into her book.

Aaron just stares at the darked haired women connected to so many tubes he can’t even begin to count, and focuses on the sounds of her steady heart beat.

Hotch, JJ and Rossi are talking about something and nothing when the door opens, a smiling Garcia popping in, behind her, Morgan and Reid, the latter hanging onto his boyfriend’s arm to keep him standing.

“Hey guys.” JJ smiles, “Spence, it’s good to see you up and about.”

“Yeah.” He says, hesitant at the door, unable to meet Hotch’s eye.

“Take a seat, you’ve had major surgery. I'm not sure you should be standing.” Rossi says. Reid smiles, before he looks towards the empty seat next to Hotch, but he only takes a seat after the older man pulls it out further for him with a slight smile.

“Thanks.” He says, taking a seat, “How is she?”

“They say she’s doing well.” Hotch tells him.

“Have you heard anything about moving her?”

“Not yet.” Hotch answers, “Soon, hopefully.”

Just at that moment, the doctor walks in and smiles to them.

“It’s good news.” He says, “I’ve spoken to the attendings in Virginia and they have the room in the ICU.”

“When can she be transferred?” Rossi asks.

“In my medical opinion, I’m recommending travelling by Air Ambulance.” He informs them, “Dr Reid, I’ve spoken to Dr Manning and he agrees that in your condition, you should travel with her but I’m afraid the rest of you will have to travel separately. I gather you have your own travel?”

“Yeah.” JJ mutters, looking back at Emily and gently squeezing her hand. “Do you think she’s stable enough?”

“I do.” He nods, “A doctor will be traveling with you just in case of any emergencies but I don’t foresee one. The Helicopter is currently being prepped, i’ll be back when we’re ready to move her.”

“Thank you.” The team says at around the same time, the doctor leaves with a smile.

“I’ll go and call about the jet.” Dave says, already halfway to the door.

Twenty minutes later, they watch as Emily is wheeled away. Hotch gently graces a finger over his lips as he still feels the pressure of her forehead on them, before following behind the rest of the team.

“You look after her up there, okay?” Rossi tells Reid.

“Of course.” He nods, before he’s ushered away by his doctor.

“We should be going.” Garcia says.

The flight back was awful. Neither of them knew what to say, each of them worried about the absent members. Hotch stared out of the window, his mind running wild, remembering all his times with Emily, while also thinking about just what he was going to tell Jack.

JJ sat staring at nothing, her eyes on her coffee cup as she ran through the scene just one night ago. Rossi can’t help but try and prepare himself to lose her, the woman he’d grown to love like a daughter. Garcia sits and thinks about good things, positive things, about how she’ll smile at Emily when she wakes up, and tell her to never scare them like that again, thinks about the next girls night she, JJ and Emily will have. Because he can’t think about losing her. She won’t. And Morgan, Morgan tries to press down the intense guilt he feels about the whole situation, along with his worry for both his best friend and his boyfriend.

The helicopter is no better. Reid sits next to Emily, his hand resting in hers while he stares at the heart monitor, trying to control his breathing.

“What do you think the chances of her waking up are?” He asks the doctor, who looks at him and then the chart.

“I really couldn’t say. Situations vary.”

“I know.” Reid tells them, “But in your opinion? I’d like to hear it.”

“Okay.” They nod, before facing him, “I think that she endured very extreme trauma to her body. She has shown no change in the last twenty four hours. She cannot breathe without a ventilator and while her brain activity is present, it’s.. not what it should be, which tells me there could be some damage from the lack of oxygen when she coded on three separate occasions.” They tell him, “I think preparing yourself for the worst outcome and getting the best, is better than hoping for the best and getting the worst.”

“You don’t think she’ll wake up?”

“I think that the lack of improvement is a concern. If I were you I would prepare for the worst. I don’t see how she comes out of this, even if she does wake up.”

“Thank you.” Reid tells them, “For being honest.”

“I wish it were better information.”

“Yeah,” The young man whispers, rubbing his thumb across Emily’s hand. “Me too.”

Hotch goes home to Jack before going to the hospital, in desperate need to see his little boy.

He opens the door and can’t help but smile at the shout of Jack.

“Daddy!” The six year old jumps into his arms and wraps his little body around Hotch, who holds him right back.

“Hey buddy.” He says, kissing him on the temple. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Daddy.” He says, resting his head on his shoulder. “Me and Aunt Jess made pizza.” He tells him.

“You did?”

“Mmhm.” The boy says, “Is Emmy coming over for dinner too?”

Hotch rubs a hand over his sons back and sends a sad smile towards Jessica, who steps out of the kitchen.

“Do you need me to stay?” She asks him, he knows that means she’s really asking “Are you going back to the hospital?”

He sends her a nod and she smiles.

“Of course. I’ll give you two a minute.” She says and heads off to the kitchen.

“What is it?” Jack asks, lifting his head and looking at his dad.

“I need to tell you something.” Hotch says softly, placing his son on the floor and kneeling down to his level. “It’s about Emily.”

“Is she okay?” Jack asks quietly, placing with the bottom of his t-shirt nervously. Hotch gently grabs his son’s hand and the boy looks at him.

“No, buddy.” He says, shaking his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “No, she’s not okay.”

“Why not?”

“Well..” Hotch says, clearing his throat, “She got into a car accident.” He says, watching as Jack nods in understanding before continuing, “And now she’s resting but she can’t breathe on her own.. and so there’s a machine doing it for her.”

“But she’s going to wake up, right?”

Hotch smiles sadly and places a hand on his son’s cheek.

“I don’t know, bud.” He whispers, “I hope so.”

“Is Emmy going to go away like Mommy did?” Jack asks, his lip quivering as his eyes tear up.

Hotch doesn’t know what to say. How do you explain a coma to a six year old?

“I don’t know.” Hotch says, “The doctors are doing their jobs and trying to wake her up. But she might not wake up.” He tells him, “Right now, Emily is fighting to come back to you, okay? But she’s very very sick.”

“Can i go and see her?” Jack asks, a tear leaving his eyes, his voice sad and small.

“Not tonight, but maybe in a few days, okay? The doctor’s are still trying to help her.”

“But I want to say goodbye..”

“You will.” Hotch tells him with a nod, stroking his cheek. “I promise.”

“But not today?”

“But not today.” Hotch says, and the boys walks into his arms and cries, holding on tight to his father.

“It’s okay.” Hotch soothes, wrapping the boy in his arms.

“I don’t want Emmy to die.” The boy cries.

“I know.” Hotch whispers, “I don’t want her to either.”

“Are you going to stay with her tonight? She can’t be on her own.” Jack says, worry in his eyes when he looks at his dad, “What if-“

“I’ll go back, i’ll stay with her.” Hotch nods, “Don’t worry.”

Jack nods and goes back into his fathers arms.

Hotch picks him up and heads to the couch, sitting down and letting the boy rest on his chest, running a soothing hand down his back as the boy falls into a slumber.

Jessica puts him to bed a few minutes later, and Hotch heads to the hospital, trying to compose himself on the way.

“How did Jack take it?” Rossi asks as Hotch runs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath while they wait for the doctors to allow them in her room.

“As well as a six year old could.” Hotch answers. “Everyone gone home?”

“Morgan is with Reid downstairs, he should be discharged tomorrow, Garcia went to get some tea and I sent JJ home. She should see her son.”

“Good,” He nods, “Good. And what about work..”

“You’ve been given three personal days. The rest of us go back tomorrow, apart from Reid. He’s on medical leave.” Rossi says.

“Okay.” Hotch nods, “God.. how is this happening… how is-“

“I know.” Dave say, patting the man on the back. “It all feels like a sick dream.”

“Yeah..” Aaron whispers, “She's in there?”

Dave nods, “They’re just running their own tests, getting their own information. We’ll be allowed to see her soon.”

The doctor’s left the room not ten minutes later and all three stood up.

“Is she okay?” Garcia asks quickly.

“She’s stable.” They tell her, “But I’m afraid I haven’t see any improvement in the last almost sixty hours, not even in brain function, which after this amount of time is normally seen, even if it’s just by a small amount.”

“What does that mean?” Aaron asks.

“That means that unfortunately, the probability of her coming out of this fall by ten percent. Which in her condition is an extreme amount.”

“So, what?” Rossi questions, “What is the percentage of a good outcome.”

“The chances of her waking up are currently falling at around twenty percent, but the reality of the situation is that even if by some miracle, which, I have seen, she does come out of this...the chance of brain damage rise by around two percent every time the heart stops for over two minutes.. her heart stopped three separate times at an overall time of seventeen minutes.”

“Oh.. my god.” Garcia whispers, stepping back and turning around.

“I think you should all prepare yourself for the possibility that she won’t come back from this.” The doctor tells them, “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Hotch says, “Can we see her?”

Of course.” He nods, “Follow me.”

Sitting next to her, watching the rise and fall of her chest, if he ignores all the wires and the tubes and the beeping, it almost looks as though she’s just resting. He imagines her in his bed, sleeping, ready to wake up at any second and playfully scold him for staring at her. He prays for it, he hasn’t prayed in years, he realises, but as he rubs a thumb over her hand and stares at her, he prays for a fucking miracle, because if anyone deserves one, it’s her. It’s them. After everything they’ve been through over the years, Foyet.. Doyle.. Paris..

They deserve a miracle. She deserves a miracle.

#hotchniss #in my veins

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blitheringmcgonagall · 4 years ago

Text

Nah, He Didn’t... Jilytober Prompt #25

This is for @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world who made the list of prompts and is a star 😘😘😘😘

Prompt #25: 7th Year Lily thinking James is no longer interested in her…

(Btw, I am not a fan AT ALL of James chasing after an unrequiting Lily for ages, that stalkerish behaviour is more Snape, if anyone, and in canon James only asks her out once, just reminding you all…)

Nah, He Didn’t

It was freezing cold outside and Lily wrapped her fleece-lined cloak around her tightly as she wandered off towards the Great Lake on that blustery morning. She hadn’t slept particularly well, and she needed to wake up before starting school. She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned widely, then blinked. A fluffy, large, black dog was trotting towards her, wagging its tail joyfully.

“Ooooh, look at you!” she cooed warmly, hunkering down as the dog approached her. “Aren’t you a dote? Such a gorgeous dog!”

The dog barked enthusiastically as though in complete agreement.

“Of course you are,” Lily said, rubbing behind the dog’s ears. “I’m sure you get told that all the time!”

The dog made a sound half-way between a laugh and a bark, wagging its tail with enthusiasm.

“Big-headed git,” Lily snorted, ruffling the soft hair on the dog’s head affectionately.

The dog’s chin shot up.

“Oh, a bit defensive, are we?” Lily quipped.

The dog sniffed.

“Fair enough, unlike some big-headed gits, you actually have something to be vain about,” she said, with a sigh.

The dog cocked its head to one side, as though listening attentively. It did the trick.

“Don’t get me started,” Lily muttered crossly. “I really, really need to cop on and move on. I mean, there was a stupid rumour in Fifth Year that he liked me, which was bollocks.”

The dog’s eyes grey wide.

“Nah, he didn’t, utter bollocks,” Lily amended, sitting down on the damp ground with a huff. “But then last year, we were getting on really well, and I started seeing him differently, you know…”

The dog moved closer to her and his ears pricked up.

“Fine, I started liking him, as in, you know, liking liking him,” Lily said, as the dog’s eyebrows shot up. “Whatever, fancying him rotten, alright? Satisfied? Ugh! I’m such an idiot! I never hated him, not really, it’s just that we were always annoying each other, engaging in verbal battles and whatnot, I mean I think we both liked spending time with each other, despite the sassy remarks, or maybe because of them.”

She stared moodily ahead of her, which meant she missed the startled and frankly shocked look that the black dog gave her.

“Which was fine. It was nice being friends with James, he’s a nice person, you know?” she added.

The dog barked at her pointedly and thumped his tail against the ground.

“And then this year, when I heard he was Head Boy, I was delighted initially. We got to spend loads of extra time together and I got to see more sides to him and, and… and it’s been rubbish! I can’t concentrate on anything when he’s nearby, I keep seeing all these adorable sides to him that I never knew existed, and his bedroom is next door to mine. Next Door! You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve seen him come in from Quidditch practice with his uniform stuck to his toned abs and biceps and Merlin…”

She sighed deeply and the dog whined.

“Oh dear! Are you not feeling well?” Lily asked.

The dog groaned.

“And then after seeing him looking so hot, gone to bed and dreamt we had a row and made up and then I was tearing his quidditch uniform off and-“

The dog let out a huge yelp. Lily huffed with annoyance and ripped some blades of grass.

“So then as he’s so clearly not interested in my any more, if he ever really was-“

The dog dropped his head onto the grass and whined loudly.

“I decided the only way to address this was by us both dating other people. Excellent idea, I thought,” she said.

The dog looked at her as though she had grown two heads.

“Except it’s been an unmitigated disaster. Helping him get changed and deciding what to wear on his date with Miranda Carlisle? Helping him think of where to take Lelli Kumar on their first date? IT WAS A NIGHTMARE, Snuffles!”

The dog growled under his breath and sank his chin further into the grass.

“Well, I don’t know what your name is, love, and Snuffles is sweet,” Lily said, with a wicked grin at the grumpy looking dog.

“And as for asking James’ advice on what to wear on that cringeful date with Jack Meadows? Merlin, it was a disaster! The worst was probably the day we were both going on separate dates and spent an entire afternoon trying to be all supportive and encouraging with each other. I was so sick of it all, I said to him maybe we should just forget about our dates and go on a date together instead, save us all the hassle,” Lily said, making a face.

The dog sat up suddenly and his right ear shot up.

“How much more bloody obvious can you get, right? And he said yeah, we should,” Lily said, imitating James’ deeper voice and throwing herself down on her back with a huge sigh. “And then we both just stood there, like idiots, and went on our respective dates. I mean, he’s clearly not into me at all, is he?”

The dog let out a strangled sound.

“I know, so embarrassing! And another time when we were bitching about the stress of dating people you don’t know, I literally said I’d prefer to just go on a date with you James. And you know what he said?” Lily said, turning her neck to look at the dog.

“I’d go on a date with you any time you want, Evans, you just need to ask,” Lily said, mimicking James’ flirty tone and ruffling her hair.

The dog looked at her expectantly.

“So I said now would be nice, Potter, and he laughed and said please stop taking the piss, Evans, I can’t cope with you,” she groaned. “Well obviously I didn’t ask him again after that, not when he was just saying it to be nice!”

She huffed and stuck her hands behind her head. The dog flopped sideways onto the grass as though momentarily incapacitated.

“Bloody boys!” she muttered. “They’re all stupid!”

The dog gave a small bark, as though disagreeing.

“Take Sirius and Remus, both totally head over heels in love with each other, both totally clueless!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what either of them needs to do in order for the other one to realise it! Sirius sits in class gazing at the back of Remus’ head like he’s staring at a work of art, and Remus fell over his schoolbag cause he was staring at Sirius when he came in after a Quidditch match. I’m pretty sure Mc Gonagall knows it, she keeps giving them detention together for no good reason!”

The dog made a distressed sound, like it was choking, and Lily sat up.

“Are you alright, you poor thing?” she said, petting his back fondly, and watching as a particularly fit Quidditch Captain and Head Boy walked over towards them.

“He always looks particularly well in his tight quidditch top, showing off his toned forearms with the beautiful veins on the back of his hands and arms. I have a thing about his hands and his arms, and his eyes, and his smile,” she whispered to the dog, who made a hacking noise.

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t get back to sleep so I did some practice,” said James.

“If that dog’s annoying you, Evans, just send him on his way,” he added, folding the aforementioned beautiful arms, and looking at the dog with a raised brow.

The dog whined and squeezed in beside Lily.

“Leave him alone, Potter! Snuffles is a delight!” she glared back.

“Snuffles?” James snorted and beamed at the black dog. “Oh, Snuffles is pure joy.”

The dog sulked..

“You, er, you wouldn’t be available to help me with those prefect rosters later, would you, Potter?” she said, twisting her hair with embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure, no problem at all,” said James, looking at her wistfully. “I’m just going to shower before school starts.”

Lily stared after him.

“You know, you really aught to stop swooning over his arse, like an idiot, and ask him out, properly.”

“Sirius! Where did you spring out of!” Lily said, clearing her throat and giving him an unmerciful dig with her elbow.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, rubbing his arm fretfully. “I mean it.”

Lily rolled her eyes and linked her arm with his.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Where did the cute dog go?”

“The cute dog who’s definitely not called Snuffles? I have no idea,” Sirius said breezily.

Lily looked around her distractedly.

“Lily, there’s something you should know,” Sirius said. “Boys are very, very stupid. Significantly more stupid than you’d expect. Never underestimate how stupid boys are.”

“Oh,” Lily said. “Right.”

“Right. Now. I dare you to ask James out, properly,” he said, raising his arched brow at her. “And if you do, I promise to ask out Remus Lupin.”

She stared at him.

“Well?” he said.

Her face split into a huge grin.

“Well, in that case, as a purely platonic thing, to help you two get your act together,” she beamed and squeezed his arm in excitement.

“Platonic, my arse,” Sirius said. “Shall we?”

Lily grit her teeth and nodded.

He grabbed her hand and raced with her towards the castle.

#jilytober 2020 #jilytober #jily #jily drabble #prompts #hope you like it #silly fluff

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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Hi, I hope you're doing well. Would you mind writing a one shot where Harry and the missus are roomies and she wakes him up in the middle of the night because she feels sick and he has to take care of her? I thinks that's too cute and fluffy. Thanks.

Playing Doctor

summary: you wake up feeling sick in the night and who better to help than your roommate, Harry.

word count: a 2.3k word blurb of cuteness, I ain’t gonna lie. also proofread but I did write this in one sitting so I don't think it'll be too bad.

Once you moved away from home, you never realised how much you needed your parents. Maybe not even your parents, just someone who you could rely on.

For your first year of Uni you lived in a flat with quite a few people. All together there were around eight people in your flat. Of course like anytime a group of people were thrown together, there were people you got on better with than others.

Harry was one of them.

You were nervous when your first moved in to the flat. If someone were to ask you then, you probably would’ve said you were more excited than nervous to move out and be on your own, but your were nervous. You didn’t know anyone, it was a completely new place and you were basically throwing yourself in the deep end.

Harry was the first person you met. He was making noodles in the kitchen when you pushed through the door with your bags in tow. He immediately dropped what he was doing to help you, grabbing some of the bags that you were struggling to carry. He introduced himself, and you did the same and thinking back, you can’t imagine your life any more without him.

He quickly became your best friend. You bonded over your love for literature and roast dinners. It became your routine very early on in your friendship that when the two of you were paid, or you had a little extra money, or the two of you just needed a little pick me up you’d go for a roast dinner.

It wasn’t a surprise to anybody when during your second year you decided to move in together. Some people found it odd that the two of you were going to be living with each other but weren’t together, but the two of you didn’t care. You honestly just couldn’t wait until you lived with each other and could ramp up your roasts from whenever you can afford them, to making them yourselves because you have your own kitchen to do so.

Once your second year started, and you settled in, you couldn’t imagine not living with Harry or spending your days together. You had settled into a lovely routine. Whoever woke up and was ready first, usually Harry because he usually worked out in the morning rather than at night, made breakfast and made the morning drinks.

Harry was the best friend you’d ever had, and you seriously couldn’t have asked for a better friend in life.

Harry was an all around well rounded roommate also. He kept the flat clean and tidy, always put the toilet seat down and didn’t leave socks around like you knew men usually did. Even when he brought people home, he always let you know for if you wanted to leave. You were usually asleep when he brought people home anyway, and he made sure to respect you with how loud he was and if you were awake, you usually put your headphones in.

You started to hope that when you did find your person, they were like Harry. He treat women so lovely, and was so respectful to people that you couldn’t even imagine what life is like with someone who isn’t.

During your friendship, you have also had your fair share of hook-ups but due to embarrassment on your part you’ve managed to do them when you know that Harry isn’t in, and there isn’t the chance for him to come home at any point. You had spoken about it, and it didn’t happen frequently with him or you but you just didn’t like the idea of it.

You had been living with Harry for around four months now, and you have loved every second.

It was now the start of December, and Christmas was creeping around the corner. Days are shorter, the air is cooler and Christmas was everywhere you turned. Due to the fact that you would still be paying rent over the Christmas break you both decided to stay in the flat for as long as you could and just go home a few days before.

The first weekend in December, the flat you lived in during your first year decided that you would all reconnect and go to the Christmas Market and a pub for a few drinks. You were unsure what had happened when you were picking your outfit that morning, because you hadn’t put any tights on with your skirt and you were freezing.

You had spent the majority of the day outside and a little bit of the evening before you all made your way to the pub, and even when you made your way home tucked under Harry’s arm you were shivering. You were normally prepared for the cold whether, and you were unsure whether you just completely forgot or you were distracted.

You had woken up the next day with a shiver and a headache but you had just assumed that it was because you were out drinking late and had a wee bit of a hangover. You had done any work you had needed to do curled up on the sofa with a blanket around you. Harry had gone out to do some Christmas shopping and when he returned home later that evening you were asleep on the sofa. He had woken you up lightly and you had gone to bed straight away.

You usually went to bed early, but Harry had never know you fall asleep on the sofa before. He was worried about you, he wasn’t going to lie.

In the middle of the night you had taken a turn for the worst. You had woken up and checked your phone to see that it was two in the morning but that wasn’t the only thing that held your attention. Your sinuses felt as though though they had grown twice in side, your nose was clogged and your throat felt ever so scratchy.

It had been a while since you had felt this sick, and you certainly hadn’t felt this sick since the time you came home from school when you were sixteen and you physically couldn’t get out of bed because of how sick you were.

You were so warm, sweating so much that it was physically dripping down you’re forehead. You threw the covers off your body with a huff, and after a few seconds of psyching yourself up to do so, you managed to push yourself up and trudge your way towards the bathroom.

Opening the cabinet, you mentally cursed your past self for not nipping to the supermarket and picking up some more medication. You had nothing in the house, and you were in no fit state to go now, so you closed the cabinet door and made your way down the hallway towards Harry’s room.

The door was closed, and the second your fingertips touched the cool metal of the handle you immediately felt guilty. He was laid upon his tummy, his bottom half covered by the blanket but one of his legs sticking out from beneath it. You could hear the small snores that escaped his lips and you really didn’t want to wake him up but you knew you had to.

“H?” Your voice is quiet and scratchy, but once you cough to clear it, it’s louder, “Harry?”

He jumps up, his head turning quickly towards your body. His heart almost burst at the sight of you. You were dressed in some plaid pyjama pants and one of Harry’s hoodies that you had stolen when you moved in. He didn’t mind you taking his clothes, since it meant you were comfortable and cosy. Your hair sat in a messy bun upon your head, one of your trouser legs was bunched up from your flailing within bed.

“You okay, love?” He groaned and flipped around so that he was sat up and looking straight ahead at you, “What time is it?”

“Its around one.” You cough into your elbow, “I don’t feel good.”

“You don’t sound it, lovely.” He pulls back the duvet and you walk towards him, dropping down on the bed next to him. You place your head on the pillow next to his and look at him, sniffling sightly, “Have you had any meds?”

“There isn’t any in the cupboards.” You sigh, sighing contently as Harry drops the duvet cover over your shoulders.

He nods, “I’ll nip now to the Tesco’s. Do you want anything else?”

“Can you check to see if we’ve got any honey?”

“Of course.” He carefully slips out from beside you in the bed and makes his way towards his wardrobe to pull out of a hoodie. You watch as he pulls the hoodie over his body.

“I’m sorry H.” You sigh, sniffling slightly, “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“No, don’t apologise.” He shakes his head, “I want you to wake me up when you’re feeling like this. I’ll be back soon, the Tesco’s isn’t too far away.”

“Okay.”

He wasn’t too long, but in the time that it had taken him, you had fallen back asleep surrounded by Harry’s scent and covered in his plush duvets and pillows. He had picked up an array of different medications, some pain, some cough meds and strips. He had also picked up some honey that you’d requested and some lemons. He picked up some soup for you tomorrow and some of your favourite chocolate so that you had something nice when you start to feel better.

All in all, running to the the 24 hour Tesco’s at one was a successful, yet tired and sleepy trip.

When he returned home, seeing as though it had just turned two in the morning, he only brought you a glass of water and some meds.

Something twisted inside his stomach at the sight of you curled up in his bed, duvet up to your neck and small, deep breaths escaping your lips. Until this point you had never made him feel this way before, as though butterflies were erupting in the pit of his stomach and he yearned to feel your skin against his. He just wanted to wrap his arms around you and nurse you back to health.

“YN.” He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pushing some of your hair that had fallen onto your face, “Wake up, love, I’m back.”

Your face crinkled up for a few seconds before your eyes fluttered open, falling upon a very tired yet smiling Harry. He passed you the glass of water and placed the small pills into your hand.

“Thank you.” You croaked, placing the medication on the tip of your tongue and washing them down with the water, “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head, taking the water off of you and placing it on the bedside cabinet beside you, “Go back to sleep, I’ll sleep on the sofa don’t.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, “Can you stay with me?”

“Of course.” He smiled, pulling his hoodie off of his body and dropping it to the ground, slipping next to you into bed, “Turn around, love.”

You do as he says and you turn around, moving so that your back is placed against his chest, finding comfort immediately in the heat that his body gave to her. You felt horrible and Harry felt helpless, as though he could buy you medication and cuddle you to death but he couldn’t take away the pain you were feeling.

He placed his hand upon the exposed skin of you stomach, due to his hoodie bunching underneath your breasts. It was quite an intimate moment between the of you, and he hoped that he hadn’t overstepped a boundary. The way you sighed contently and buried your way deeper into his chest suggested to him that he hadn’t.

He had never been this way with you before, and even though it could just be because you’re ill, the lingering touches suggested otherwise. As friends you were shy to a hug or two on the sofa, and you both enjoyed a cuddle and a film every once in a while but you had never shared a bed.

You hoped you hadn’t overstepped his boundaries by offering, but the way he jumped in suggested that you hadn’t.

That night, the next day and the few days that followed Harry never left your side. He catered after everything you wanted and nursed you back to health. After three nights of sleeping in Harry’s bed, by his side and engulfed by his warmth you returned back to your own. It was odd sleeping in your bed on your own again, it felt cold and lonely.

Harry felt exactly the same across the hall, unable to hide the fact that he missed your closeness. Nobody had ever made him feel this way before but he liked it. He was intrigued by the way you made him feel, and he wanted nothing more than to find out whether you felt the same.

It wouldn’t be long until you were back in the same, though. Less than a week later Harry woke up with a sniffle, and in payment, you were the one to nurse him back to health.

Neither the two of you knew what this change in your dynamic meant, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t curious to find out.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles concept #harry styles fluff

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duskandstarlight · 4 years ago

Text

Embers & Light (Chapter 22)

Notes: Apologies for any major errors. I'm going to edit this again in the morning, but I wanted to keep to my promise and give you something today!

And also, I'm sorry... this is an eventful chapter...

EDIT: Now hopefully free of typos and grammatical errors...

Chapter Twenty Two Nesta

Despite the fact that it was only an hour past dawn, the camp was already bustling the next morning as Nesta made her way through the back end of the mountain pass. Cassian was scheduled to visit Swallow’s Ridge at midday, so Nesta had risen early and eaten breakfast alone before walking to meet him in their usual training spot.

It was a bleak, grey sort of day, the sky kissed with the promise of snow and the air so cold Nesta’s breath clouded thick in front of her as she approached the sparring rings.

The training grounds were not the same as those carved into the rock towards the front of the mountain pass. Instead, an area had been felled of pine trees that was just large enough to construct three large training areas, which were partitioned off by wooden fencing. Unlike the punishing crystalline rock, the ground was soft and open to the elements, a mixture of stone and compact earth that had frozen solid in the cold weather.

Nesta counted twenty girls in the ring as she drew closer — the most Cassian had ever had, he’d informed her over dinner a few nights prior — and whilst some of them looked like they hated every second of it, Nesta noticed Durkhanai and some of the other orphans frowning in concentration as Cassian took them through the guard swings.

At the entrance of the ring, with his arms crossed firmly across his hard and unyielding chest, was Lord Devlon. He was wearing a stern expression, but apart from the odd clipped order he allowed Cassian to lead the session rather than stepping in himself. This did not seem to bother Cassian, who appeared wholly focussed as he walked up and down the training ground, correcting handgrips and stances with a voice that was still General but kinder than when Nesta had heard him barked instructions at the males.

Unlike when Nesta trained, no males had stopped to watch the girls in the ring. Instead, they appeared to avoid the training ground altogether, as if they were purposefully keeping their distance. Nesta was sure there was some pathetic reason for it, but she cast the sneering males to the back of her mind as she deliberately drew to a halt beside the pine fencing a metre from Devlon.

The positioning was purposeful; Nesta was not going to be intimidated by a half-wit bat with a stick up his ass. If Devlon wanted to believe she was a witch, she’d damn well let him.

So drawing up tall, Nesta surveyed Cassian walking up and down the line of girls as they practiced guard swings with wooden swords, and ignored Devlon with blatant disinterest.

The girls attention wavered as they clocked her arrival, and even Cassian stopped correcting a young female’s grip, his wings and nostrils flaring slightly as he scented her on the breeze.

Cassian’s head started to turn but Nesta didn’t have time to meet his gaze, as Devlon cast his dark, cold eyes to rest upon her.

“Here for training are you,” he grunted. He eyed her hands warily as if he expected mist to be seeping from them.

Nesta twitched her fingers in the hope that he might squirm — just for her satisfaction — and a small, cruel smile twisting her lips upwards. “Yes.”

A begrudging nod. Not a snarl or a sneer. Only, “Mind where you blast that fire.”

Nesta opened her mouth to reply, but then Cassian was in front of her on the other side of the fence. His hair was even more tangled than usual. “I’m nearly finished,” he told Nesta, even though his eyes remained fiercely trained on Devlon. His expression was hard and a muscle in his jaw was already twitching. “Start warming up. Ten laps around the ring.”

Shrugging, Nesta started to jog around the training ground as the girls began to put away their wooden training swords. Durkhanai’s eyes widened as she spotted Nesta, a shy smile flitting across her face.

Nesta saw the orphan most days. Together they helped bathe, dress and feed the younglings to relieve the widows who needed to get down the mountain for work. Durkhanai was quiet but lovely, and after a week of working silently side by side, she started to speak to Nesta, telling her of the death of her mother during the brutal winter last year and her journey to the widows camp, the only place that would take her in. In turn, Nesta had shared a part of herself: her starvation as a human and the death of her own mother.

She did not speak about how she had been Made or about her father’s death. That was something Nesta was still not ready to discuss, let alone face herself.

Sometimes, late at night, Nesta would wake with her face wet with tears, having dreamt of those ships sailing into the midst of battle. How her father had stood at the helm of Nesta, as he looked towards the coastline and his daughters. In that moment, he looked forever young; his hair golden brown rather than grey, his face alight with purpose, his posture tall. The father he had been before their mother died, when Nesta had been his favourite and Feyre had not been forced to the woods so they did not starve.

Feyre. The sister who Nesta might potentially see today, if she willed it.

Originally, Nesta had not even contemplated meeting her sister. Had imagined Feyre standing at the top of the mountain in the freezing cold as she waited for a sister who would not come. But slowly, as three weeks passed, Nesta found herself torn between unbridled fury and curiosity.

Even now, Nesta did not know how to feel. Did not know whether she would face her sister or not. Did not know if she could.

So when she and Cassian trained, Nesta went hard. She ignored the few girls that had stayed behind to watch and Devlon’s beady eyes from his spot at the gates. Instead, Nesta slipped into the rhythm of hand-to-hand combat with an ease that had not come before, her fists and body a blur against the grey landscape.

When she finished her fifth round, a bead of sweat trickled down Cassian’s brow. “Good,” he praised between breaths, and Nesta knew it was deserved. “I felt that kick to the side, sweetheart.”

“Good,” she mirrored, and Cassian barked a laugh. “Maybe you’ll stop going easy on me.”

“I didn’t,” Cassian promised.

A dismissive snort. “You could have pinned me after that upper cut.”

Hazel eyes glowed bright. “I don’t fancy being blasted with silver fire this early in the morning,” Cassian said, even though they both knew why he hadn't pinned her. He stalked to the weapons rack and threw her a longsword, which she effortlessly caught by the handle. “Guards and then combat. Let’s see if you can strike me twice today.”

After their training session, Cassian loitered around the bungalow for longer than he should have. He had bathed first, so Nesta raised an eyebrow at him in surprise as she came out of the bathroom to find him in the living room.

“I thought you were going to Swallow’s Ridge,” Nesta said, her chin lifted as if daring for him to comment that she was wearing nothing but a towel.

The Nesta riddled with alcohol and completely numb would have had no qualms about baring her skin for all the world to see, if only to discover whether it would make her bitter heart feel. But with the potential meeting of her sister on the horizon, Nesta felt splintered and raw.

After failing to illicit comments from Cassian the day of Mor’s visit, Nesta also no longer felt as body confident as she had been. Her failure to draw his attention had only confirmed what she had not wanted to admit: that whilst she had put on weight, the knots in her spine were still too prominent and her thighs were far thinner than they should be, bowing at the tops rather than meeting in the middle. And whilst it wasn’t as if Cassian hadn’t seen more of Nesta’s skin before, today she wasn’t in a place where she could relish in it. If she had known he were still around the house, she would have changed into fresh clothes in the bathroom rather than her room.

Cassian’s nostrils flared and his eyes gleamed for such a short moment that Nesta wondered if it had merely been the fire dancing in his irises. “I might stay and oversee the foot soldiers instead.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta tightened the towel around her body. “Why,” she asked shortly. Too shortly. They both knew what today could be, depending on Nesta’s decision. It had been an omen hanging over them that morning as they trained. Cassian had not dared bring it up, and Nesta, who was still too conflicted over her sister’s impending visit, had only set her mouth in thin determination and wielded the longsword after he had thrown it at her, as if it were an extension of herself.

To Cassian’s delight, she had struck him twice. When they had ended, Cassian had vowed that he would start training her with the bow the following day at Spearhead.

Loosing a shrug, Cassian replied, “The rite is in three months. The Windhaven soldiers need as much training as they can get.”

A casual response, but Nesta was not fooled.

She reset her posture, her eyes narrowing in a way that usually had other’s running. “Do it tomorrow.”

Cassian cocked his head and those hazel eyes tunnelled into her with such intensity that Nesta wanted to look away. She didn’t let herself give in to the temptation, staring him down with the sort of unveiled threat that promised she’d make his life hell if he dared defy her.

Eventually, Cassian just shrugged, his broad wings shifting with the movement. He ruffled them, spreading them quickly before tucking them back in. It was a signature move of his when he was uncomfortable. “I’ll be back at dusk. I’ll see you for dinner?”

A careful question designed to ensure that Nesta didn’t intend to retreat into herself should she meet with Feyre. Cassian was worried, Nesta realised, fiercely so, the sensation escaping the walls he had constructed after Kamanam and lining her stomach with the scent of pine and musk and untamed air.

It had been a while since Nesta had been left feeling fully numb. It was a feat that hadn’t escaped her. Clearly, it hadn’t escaped Cassian either, and he wanted the reassurance that meeting with her sister wasn’t going to make her suffer, even though they both knew it didn’t work that way.

For once though, Nesta did hope that the numbness wouldn’t take a hold of her. The sensation felt odd — hope — but it was there, a flicker in the dark. And the thought of coming back to the bungalow later to eat in the kitchen with Cassian… the image was warm and inviting. Nesta could see the orange glow of faelight around the kitchen window, could imagine her feet crunching on snow and ice as she trekked her way back, could taste the spices on her tongue as she bit into the food he would prepare for her…

So Nesta said, “That depends on what you’re making.”

Cassian barked a laugh. “What would you like, sweetheart?”

Nesta shrugged, as if she were wholly uncaring, even as it felt as if someone had clenched a fist in her chest. “Dosas,” she said, tossing the word over her shoulder as she turned on her heel to head into the bedroom.

A low chuckle made her stomach twist and flip, but she did not look back at him, even though she knew his eyes had darkened and flared simultaneously.

Despite the distance, Nesta felt Cassian’s laugh rumble through her, like a flame licking down to her core. “Dosas it is.”

***

Once she had dressed, Nesta left her bedroom with the intention of making her way to the widows camp. To her fury, she found that Cassian had still not left. He was waiting by the door, her headband in his outstretched hand. Her coat remained hanging from its hook, as if he had anticipated that she would emerge in clean leathers rather than an Illyrian dress.

When he informed her that he planned to walk her to the bottom of the mountain, Nesta snatched the headband from his hands and stormed out of the door with a furious hiss that had him grinning.

Yet... Nesta allowed him to follow her. Knew his cocky grin was just for show. Knew that he wouldn’t voice what they both knew: that somehow his presence had a calming effect on her, smoothing over the gravitas of what could or couldn’t happen in a few hours time.

Cassian opened his mouth a number of times during the walk, but eventually he chose to remain silent. Only when they arrived at the base of the mountain did he surprise her, conversing quickly with the guards in sharp Illyrian before stepping onto the treacherous path with her, rather than shooting into the skies.

Nesta’s scathing look did nothing to stop him in his tracks, and it was only when they made the first brutal turn that he spoke. “You don’t have to see your sister today if you don’t want to.”

Nesta scowled, angry at Cassian for bringing up Feyre when she had intended to cast her to the back of her mind whilst she still could. Her entire body stiffened but she did not turn to him, knowing somehow, that he wanted eye contact from her — hazel on blue.

She kept on walking; one foot in front of the other, her fur-lined boots crunching loose rock beneath her feet. “I am fully aware of what I can and cannot do.”

Her delivery was pointed enough to wound, but Cassian did not flinch. He stopped, reaching for her, his fingers closing around her wrist. “I meant what I said to you the other day, Nesta. You shouldn’t see your sister if you don’t think it’s best for you right now.”

Silence followed as heat licked through Nesta’s veins, her power slithering like a serpent through a dark tunnel.

When Cassian spoke next, his voice was low — a confession, “I fucked up before. I was so angry at you for ignoring me that I didn’t try to see things from your perspective. So I’m going to tell you again what I think you need to hear: only do this for you. Don’t do this for Feyre. If it feels right to meet your sister, meet her. If your gut tells you it is wrong, follow that feeling.”

Nesta nearly snorted in dismissal, but she quashed the sound before it could escape, remembering the look on Cassian’s face that night of Solstice, when she had treated him as if he weren’t worthy enough to even reject.

Instead, she said frostily, “I don’t need your support.”

Something flickered behind Cassian’s eyes. “I know,” he admitted, “but I want you to know that you have it, if you do want it.” His grip tightened around her wrist, his touch warm and too packed with meaning. “Sometimes we need distance to figure out what we need, Nesta.”

His gaze was too intense, so Nesta threw his words back at him as she scrabbled to keep her expression neutral. “And what do you need.”

A shake of the head had Cassian’s wind-snarled hair moving. “I don’t need anything from you," he confessed. "Recently there’s a spark of life in you that wasn’t there before. I don’t want to see it go out.”

Nesta’s windpipe tightened and she sucked in a breath as she purposefully slid her eyes away from him to the frost-kissed landscape; to the snow-capped pine trees, the canvas tents and the shadowed blurs of leather and steel.

“I’m not the same girl who was forced into the Cauldron,” Nesta said.

It was true. Nesta was not who she had been. The Cauldron and the war had remoulded her body and self until she was recognisably different: harder around the edges, broken in the middle. A jumble of revenge and anger and grief and hatred. Emotions that she tried in vein to trap in ice to stop herself from self-combusting.

As if he could tell what she was thinking, Cassian’s fingers moved from her wrist to squeeze her fingers.

“No,” Cassian agreed softly, “but I like who you have become, all the same.” With his other hand, he reached up to brush his thumb lightly over the arch of her cheekbone.

The initiated contact surprised Nesta so much that she did not have the time to order herself to flinch.

“I’ll see you later,” Cassian said, after he had stared into her eyes for a little too long. “If you need me, get one of the guards to send a messenger to Swallow’s Ridge. I’ll come back.”

They both knew Nesta would not ask for him, but she nodded to indicate that she had heard before he shot into the sky. Nesta watched him until he faded into the clouds, his dark wings merging with grey…

A flash of ruby flared like lightning, and then he was gone.

The weather was moody — Nesta’s favourite — and the rolling white and smoke clouds made her emotions spark in a way that she found comforting as she continued up the path. Despite her initial hesitancy, Nesta had learnt that for the most part, it was better to feel than to feel nothing at all. And now… all she could feel was where Cassian’s calloused thumb had brushed over her skin. She wondered if the bastard had done it on purpose to distract her — to make her feel when now was a time when she’d usually retreat into herself.

It irritated her beyond belief that it worked, but it irked her more that she wanted him to do it again.

Females dipped their heads at Nesta in greeting as she submerged herself into the bustling widows camp. Nesta nodded back at them, and when she found the least battered tent at the East side of the camp, Nesta rapped her knuckled on the canvas to alert Mas to her arrival before she ducked quickly inside. The housekeeper’s face lit up at the sight of her. Mas had been winding a thick scarf around Roksana’s neck, but she stopped the task to take Nesta’s face in her hands and plant two quick kisses on each cheek before she hurried off to help the other females in the makeshift kitchens.

“Tiya, sunt tibi beni?” Nesta asked Roksana when they were alone, smoothing a hand over the girl’s tangled hair before she continued to wind the scarf around the youngling.

Roksana did not reply, she only wrapped her arms around Nesta’s legs in a hug that warmed Nesta’s blood.

It was a recent development that Nesta had taken to greeting Roksana in Illyrian, hoping to coax out some words in her in her native tongue. It hadn’t worked yet, but the way in which Roksana’s eyes had lit up the first time Nesta had tried to sound out the language, had left Nesta determined to persist, even if she continued to come up empty.

The chores in the widows camp were never-ending. Tuesdays were many of the females day off and so the camp was far busier than usual. Nesta helped to feed and clothe the orphans with Durkhanai at the Eastern side of the camp, before urging the younglings to warm their wings and frozen limbs by the campfire.

Some of the older widows, including Mas, had come to settle by the fire as well, in order to keep an eye on the younglings whilst they weaved beautiful fabric together with needle and thread. Braving the fire, Nesta settled with Roksana against her side and recounted a few stories, until the spitting became too much and the sun was high in the sky.

Then, without thinking, Nesta stood. She ran a hand over Roksana’s hair and bid Mas goodbye, before heading to the path that traversed up the mountain to the summit at the Western point of the camp. She ignored the way in which Mas had watched her go, her expression concerned to the point of troubled. There was no way in which Mas could know what Nesta was about to do — Nesta had not told anyone about her potential meeting with her sister — but Mas had come to learn her moods just as Cassian had.

If Nesta was more forthcoming about herself, she might have asked Mas’s advice, but instead Nesta continued to move on instinct — on the pull that was drawing her legs to climb up, up, up until the path flattened out.

She saw Feyre as soon as she reached the peak. It was not hard to spot her. She was standing at the precipice, staring down at the widows camp below. Despite the long braid that had woven her sister’s golden brown hair into three strands, the fierce wind carried it behind her, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the slight upwards slant to her eyes. Her long, elegant figure was swept up in the finest fur-lined leathers, as if she too had unwittingly dressed to expect a battle. Or, Nesta thought grimly, the clothing that her mate had insisted she wear, knowing that her sister was not only braving the Illyrian weather but her thorny, quarrelsome sister.

Nesta had just noted the sword strapped to her spine, when Feyre turned and noticed her.

There was a pregnant pause as eyes near identical to her own took in Nesta’s figure: her frost-kissed skin rather than sunken cheeks; the loose braid rather than the tight crown; the figure-hugging leathers rather than the drab, over-sized dresses. A far cry to when Feyre had seen her last, Nesta could admit that much.

“You came,” Feyre said eventually.

Nesta angled her chin, ready to spar.

“I come here every morning,” she replied coldly. “I’d assume that’s why you were advised to suggest here as a meeting point.”

There was no added insult for Cassian. No bat, no bastard, no scathing him. Even so, Nesta couldn’t bring herself to say his name. It felt too intimate — too much of a giveaway that she no longer hated him with such raging intensity she wanted to shatter things.

That was not to say that Cassian did not make her want to break things now… He did, but it was rarely from anger. Rather, it was in the way that he would look at her — in the way that no one else dared — as if she were wholly unbreakable and he had no qualms about closing the distance and pinning her between a wall and the muscled cords of his body.

The tension was rising between them — it had been for a while — and it hung thick and heavy in the air, so much so that at times Nesta found it hard to breathe.

And the worst thing was that Nesta felt herself giving in; melting into the temptation and scent of him, even when she knew that every sensation he pulled from her was a veiled disguise. An illusion. Not of choice but of a decision already made, whereby they were both playing out what was destined for them.

Yet, despite that knowledge, Nesta couldn’t deny that the thought of Cassian speaking of her to the Inner Circle opened the fetid wound that had been falsely healing inside of her. It seeped ruby through the cracks in her wall of ice, like blood tainting the purest snow.

In Nesta’s mouth, she tasted copper.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Feyre repeated, her voice disbelieving as she shook her head.

“I can leave as quickly as I came,” Nesta threatened, her face stony and impenetrable.

To her surprise, Feyre didn’t retaliate or sigh. She only looked down at the view in the fearless way anyone with wings could on a deadly precipice.

“That rock looks like a tombstone,” Feyre observed.

Nesta did not move from her position at the top of the path. Instead, she remained rooted to the spot in case she decided to make a quick exit. Nesta suspected that moment might come sooner than later. Already she felt rubbed raw, her hackles raised, her body primed to fight, yet she kept her face impassive as she followed her sister’s gaze.

Far above them, three warriors flew across the sky. Their bodies were black dots against the grey backdrop, and Nesta watched silver glint off one of them as a gap between the clouds exposed the sun’s rays. Nesta wished she was with them rather than here. Maybe Cassian was right, she was not ready for this. She was not ready to face the ghosts that haunted her… the ghosts that Feyre unwittingly brought with her.

“It’s the widows camp,” Nesta told Feyre coldly, trying to swallow down the urge to run.

Feyre cut a sideways glance at her. “You were there this morning?”

Nesta rose her chin. “Are you asking me that because you’ve been spying on me or because your faithful informant has been telling you how I spend my day?”

Feyre blew out a breath that Nesta dissected as a method of steadying the rising temper they both shared. “I arrived early. Cassian doesn’t like to speak of you to me.”

Surprise flared inside of Nesta so sharp that for a second she couldn’t breathe. She had always thought Cassian loyal to Feyre first and foremost. Had always thought he would choose his High Lady over her lowly, cruel sister, despite the things he had said that had insinuated otherwise.

But Nesta kept her expression blank as she asked, “And I suppose that makes you angry?”

The way Feyre shook her head was tormented. “No, he — it has made me realise some truths — of how I have failed you, Nesta.”

The concession was not packaged how Nesta had been expecting it, so she did not speak. Feyre had turned to look at her. Her irises were the exact same as Nesta’s own, yet not half as steely. Out of the three of them, she and Feyre were the most similar; both in looks and personality.

Nobody was as lovely as Elain, she and Feyre had learnt that long ago.

Just once, Feyre rang her hands before they fell uselessly at her sides. It betrayed her as nervous.

“I don’t know if I ever told you the full story of what happened to me Under the Mountain,” Feyre started. She tore her gaze from Nesta’s to stare out at the sky. “Afterwards, I… things were very difficult. I had nightmares every night of those I had killed and I couldn’t keep any food down. I barely slept and I felt heavy all of the time, as if I were wading through mud. I hated being confined so much so that when Tamlin locked me in the house the Night Court saved me because I threw the entirety of it into darkness. Even once I was in Velaris, there was no light, only dark, and I could barely feel… Sometimes I went days of feeling nothing and I had this... power inside of me that I didn’t know how to use.”

Feyre turned back to look at Nesta. Her expression was grave, as if she were tunnelling too far into herself, into a part of her that she did not like to bring back to the surface.

Nesta had seen the look many times before, in the reflection of Cassian and Mas’s eyes, as they stared concernedly at her.

“I’m not telling you this with the intention of making you feel sorry for me,” Feyre said quietly. She had stepped closer to Nesta without realising. Nesta had been too preoccupied with that haunted look. “The reason I’m telling you this is because despite everything I went through and the people who helped me, I didn’t truly stop to realise that you were going through something similar after the war. I should have seen what was happening with you, Nesta, and tried to truly understand what you needed, but I didn’t. I could try to better myself by saying that everything was so busy during and after the war that I was too distracted, but really that’s just an excuse for my behaviour. I thought Illyria would give you a change of scenery away from…everything.”

Nesta’s snort was harsh. “You thought to throw me into a war camp so I could escape the memory of what happened in the war?”

Feyre’s wince was visible and Nesta watched her sister pinch the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t—” Feyre started, but then she trailed off with a shake of her head, as if she wished to start again. “Nesta, I’m sorry for sending you here. I was so worried that you would destroy yourself and so I did something drastic—”

“I am not yours to control,” Nesta snarled. “You summoned me like I was dirt on the bottom of your shoe. You banished me in front of half of your precious Inner Circle with no regard to how I was suffering. You humiliated me not as my sister but as High Lady and that is unforgivable.”

Fire raged inside of Nesta at the memory, so bright that she knew mist was seeping threateningly from her fingers. Feyre cast an alarmed look to her hands as Nesta stepped closer, as if she were expecting her sister to blast her off the mountain.

“You say you don’t like small spaces,” Nesta continued with quiet fervour. “Have you considered what it is like for me? To be banished somewhere where I cannot fly away? Have you considered that I too was trapped when I was kidnapped and thrown into a Cauldron to be remade against my will? And when I told you I could not bare to sit in the tub — when I gave you a piece of myself — you did not truly listen. Instead you trapped me into another life that has been chosen for me.”

Another step forwards, so close that Nesta could feel the warmth coming from her sister’s skin. “I am sorry for what you endured Under the Mountain. I am sorry for making your life miserable when we were younger, but I am not sorry for how I chose to deal with my trauma.”

Feyre’s skin turned so pale her freckles looked like they had been painted on with the tip of a paintbrush. “Nesta—”

But Nesta was not finished. Now she had started, she couldn’t stop. The words poured forth as easily as fire wanted to flow from her fingertips. “Have you considered that I have never had control over any aspect of my life — that I have always been told what to do and how to behave?”

That fateful finger was out now, stabbing the air between them. Feyre took a step backwards as if Nesta had prodded her in the chest. Silver sparked in the air between them, a promise of what would undoubtedly come.

“I fought in the war,” Nesta continued with quiet fury. “I killed the King and changed the course of history. I tried to show you that I was sorry for how I had treated you through my actions. I tried to earn forgiveness, to try and make up for what I had done wrong. Yet you and your mate did not see my actions as worthy. And when I told you I did not want to be controlled by you, you banished me somewhere with somebody I could not stand to be around, as if I wasn’t your sister but a troublesome subject.”

Taking that final step, Nesta closed the distance between she and Feyre. Feyre did not back away again. Instead, Nesta watched a tear roll down Feyre’s cheek with a chilled sort of fury, and with quiet fervour, said, “Well, I have news for you, sister. I am untameable and I do not answer to anybody but myself.”

Horror coursed through Nesta’s insides, the sensation interwoven with the scent of lilac and pear. Feyre’s hands came to cover her face and a sob coursed through the mountain landscape, so sharp it was as if it were her sister’s last breath. “I didn’t want you to die. I thought you were going to drink yourself to death, Nesta. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Seeing her sister cry hurt, but being understood hurt more. So Nesta ploughed on; the words escaping as if they had been scrabbling to get out for a long, long time, “You once asked me why I pushed everyone away but Elain — why I pushed you away. Well, here’s your answer High Lady: you never needed me. I lost you long ago, as soon as mother told you that I was unsuitable to look out for my younger sisters and that you were the only one up for the task.”

Nesta hadn’t thought it possible for Feyre to turn paler, but she had. Her skin looked as if it had been leeched of life. As Nesta said the words, she knew they were unfair. Her younger self had projected anger onto Feyre rather than taint the dying mother who Nesta had always tried so hard to please.

A silence stretched out between them that was so taut and angry, Nesta had to resist the urge to throw her hands to the sky until it was burning mercury. Instead, she kept her power inside, wanting to feel the ferocious thrum of it in her blood, at the pulse in her neck which was hammering as if it were trying to escape.

“Is that why—” Feyre started, but a sound had Nesta throwing up a finger to stop her, because she had heard something on the wind which had made her blood freeze.

For a moment… nothing. Then on the wind came familiar, high pitched laughter that sent chills down Nesta’s spine. It was a sound that she had hoped to never hear again, yet it was unmistakable — clear as day.

“No,” Nesta breathed, whirling round to stare down the mountain path. Through the misty clouds, Nesta could make out nothing but the dark shape of the tombstone, but she knew that sound. She would never forget that sound, not as long as she lived.

“What is it?” Feyre demanded.

“Be quiet,” Nesta snapped.

Laughter came again. It skittered up the craggy rock, followed by snarling and snapping teeth.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Nesta moaned, running to ledge that Feyre had been standing at previously, which gave an unhindered view of the widows camp. And through the foggy clouds, Nesta saw them. Sloping four-legged figures on the western perimeter of the widows camp, slinking through the shadows. Too many of them. Nesta had no idea how they had gotten there, why they would have ventured somewhere so populated…

“What is it?” Feyre demanded again, running to Nesta’s side so she too could look over the mountain. “Oh Gods,” Feyre breathed. “The females. The children. Nesta, what are they—”

But Nesta was not listening. She was running before she had time to think, her feet digging into the stone as she tore her way to the mountain path that zagged its way down to the widows camp.

“Move,” she barked over her shoulder. The command was biting but Feyre did not hesitate, tearing after her sister as if it were second nature.

Nesta had only reached the first bend with Feyre hot on her heels when the first scream pierced through the clouds. Power leapt within Nesta, and then her mind went loose as it went taut… as Nesta reached within herself, into her veins where that magic hummed hello… ready. And Nesta did not push it away. Instead, she brushed against it in greeting, just as she had done when she had worn Cassian’s siphon, in the moment before she bended it to her will. And then her fingers were curling around the pommel of a longsword made entirely of breathing, silver flame.

She clutched on to it, the weapon so much an extension of herself that she did not have to worry about it falling from her grasp. The rest of the descent passed in a blur of moving rock, as she and Feyre skidded on loose stone and slushy ice, and the screams… they kept coming. Again and again. Panic and terror so palpable they pierced through Nesta’s emotional shields, each agonised sound stabbing through her, her power leaping to meet it, pushing beneath her skin, desperate to get out…

Together, she and Feyre plunged into the fray. Crowds of female were stampeding towards them, desperate to get to safety, to reach the only path that led down to the safety of the main camp.

And amongst them… kerits. So many of them chittering and snarling, their long, pointed teeth snapping and tearing as they leapt at the defenceless females with the intent of feasting on their flesh. Nesta slashed at them with her sword, fire sizzling through fur and flesh, her body moving independently of her brain as it fell into a killing dance.

Feyre had not drawn her sword from her back, instead she wielded ice from her palms, and spears of it wove their way through the air like arrowheads, plunging themselves into moving bodies of spotted fur. Nesta just had time to see the body of a kerit slump to the floor, its body impaled by ice, to reveal a female cowering against the canvas of her tent. The female’s face was ashen and disbelieving as she stared at the sloping bodies that had fallen before her at the will of Feyre’s magic. At the trail of limbs and guts scattered around her, belonging to the female who they had not been in time to save… But then another kerit was leaping at Nesta, and Nesta did not have time to think, only react as she plunged her sword into it’s belly. It fell by her feet with a sharp cry, black blood spilling on the rocky ground. Nesta did not pause to consider the bloodshed or how her feet slipped in it as she continued to run, she only raised her free hand to the sky again, desperately blazing silver into the clouds, hoping that it would be enough to alert the camp below of the attack.

Already Nesta knew that there were too many kerits for she and Feyre to fight off themselves… Already there had been casualties. And still, the orphans were huddled at the Eastern-point of the camp with nobody to protect them…

It was that thought that had Nesta pressing on. Kerits leapt at she and Feyre before they realised that they had chosen the wrong pray, and Nesta sliced and jabbed with her fire-breathing steel, relishing in the beasts dying screams and savouring the sobs of the widows, which brought solace in the knowledge that they were alive and momentarily safe.

All went eerily quiet as Nesta and Feyre reached the towering tomb of rock and the makeshift canteen surrounding it. The stampede of females had petered out, and Nesta hoped it was because most of them had managed to escape down the mountain pass, rather than because they had fallen victims to the kerits. Her gut twisted at the thought… as she thought of Mas, Roksana and the other orphans who had been tucked away against the mountain wall at the Eastern side of the camp… a dead end.

If the kerits had managed to corner them… it would be a massacre.

Another lurch of her stomach as Nesta surveyed the benches and tables that had been strewn across the stone floor. Beside one of the upturned benches lay the twisted body of the elderly cook with crooked teeth — the female who insisted on feeding Nesta each morning, even when Nesta told her that she had already eaten breakfast. The cook’s tan skin was covered in claw and tooth marks, her body bloody and brutalised in such a horrific way that Nesta knew there was not a glimmer of life left in the female.

It must have been a horrible way to die.

Biting back a sob, Nesta closed her fingers around her sister’s arm, needing Feyre to understand that in this moment, she did not care if she died; she only cared that she could protect the defenceless females before she fell.

“The orphans,” Nesta urged to Feyre, pointing towards the Eastern side of the camp and the screams that were being tossed away on the wind. “They’re at the East side of the camp. There’s no way out.”

Nesta did not dare say the name Roksana or Mas. Could not voice what she was terrified of… That something could have already happened to the Illyrian’s she had come to care for so deeply.

Nesta tried to push away the thought of how Roksana had clung to her that morning… of how her small fingers had grabbed onto her legs in a clumsy hug. Nesta tried not to think about how Mas had kissed her in greeting; her weathered palm patting lightly against Nesta’s cheek in that motherly way of hers that always made her feel unconditionally accepted and loved.

The boom of wings sounded across the mountain pass, and then different coloured lights started to flash as siphons were willed into action, warriors finally landing in the camp to fight off the beasts. Nesta spotted Ragar and his friends, Devlon, guards on patrol, but then Feyre’s hands came to rest on her arms, pulling her attention away.

Nesta stared at her sister — at the white face streaked with blood which was set in grim determination, even as they heard the rising screams.

“Let’s go,” Feyre said, those two words sparking more respect in Nesta than any of their tense exchange at the top of the mountain.

And then they were running again, both of them throwing magic from their palms, taking out a gang of kerits who had leapt between the tents. Nesta swung her longsword of silver fire with her left-hand just as a kerit jumped in front of Feyre, attacking from seemed like nowhere.

Black blood streaked hot across Nesta’s face as her sword sizzled through muscle and sinew, but she ignored the wailing screams of the dying beast, turning only to make sure her sister was alive and unharmed.

Feyre’s eyes were wide, her heartbeat as frantic as a hummingbird in Nesta’s ears. “Thanks,” Feyre breathed, panting desperately for breath. Then she pointed to the direction they had been heading — to the Eastern-most point where Nesta had left Roksana and Mas that morning. “There are lots of warriors up ahead.”

Together they dodged the crowds and beams of coloured light. To Nesta’s relief, the huddled figures on the floor seemed to mainly consist of spotted fur, the Illyrian males clearly having arrived in time to prevent a massacre. But still Nesta ran, not realising how her lungs were heaving for breath or the burn in her thighs as she weaved through lifeless bodies and crying females, heading towards the smoke that wafted up from the dying camp fire — the place she had left Roksana and Mas what felt like mere minutes ago.

It was not how she had left it.

In front of her, metres before the campfire, lay Durkhanai’s bloody body. Her eyes were open and unseeing, her pupils green and mesmerising even in death… her spirit already well departed from the world. And a foot away from her…

“No.”

The sound that tore from Nesta was agony. It ripped from her chest — from deep, deep inside that locked cage as it cracked.

Nesta’s boots slipped through guts and gore, but she did not care. In her periphery, Nesta saw limbs and the unseeing eyes of the females who had flung themselves in the paths of the beasts, as if they had willingly lay themselves on the pyre to put the lives of the orphans before themselves.

Nesta did not feel the blinding pain that should have splintered through her as she fell to her knees on the grey rock. Because in front of her was Mas. She was lying on the floor and her wings — her scarred and battered wings — were in tatters. Her stomach was oozing with blood, deep claw marks raked through raw flesh.

And beside her was Roksana, her face and clothes covered in bright scarlet blood. Her small, precious hands buried deep in Mas’s gut, holding in the punctured intestines that were trailing out of her body; as if they had been dragged out by long, pointed teeth…

The little girl stared up at Nesta, her dark eyes blown wide in shock. Around them, the anguished cries and screams of agony went quiet, Nesta’s ears drowning out all noise but the croak that came from the youngling’s mouth. “Help,” she said, those little hands sliding on intestines and blood as it leaked through her fingers. “Help.”

“No,” Nesta repeated again, the word cracking out of her as she surveyed the damage that was too severe for an Illyrian to remedy. “No, no, no.”

Her hands slipped in hot blood as she pressed her own palms over Mas’s gaping wounds. The housekeeper’s breath rattled, the sound terrible and wringing with what Nesta knew was unimaginable pain. Mas’s face was grey — as if already it had been drained of life; as if the end had been written and there was no avoiding it.

Fingers grasped at Nesta’s but the Illyrian’s eyes did not open, even as her eyelids flickered — the movement asking too much of her body. They slipped against Nesta’s as they moved through her own ruby blood.

“You will not die,” Nesta told Mas fiercely, her eyesight blinded by tears. A silver tear rolled down Nesta’s cheek and fell onto their clasped hands… into the open, gaping wound. “You will not. Do you hear me?”

Only silence answered as Mas’s body went slack. Her chest rattling one last time before it stopped moving all together.

When the housekeeper’s fingers fell away from Nesta’s own, everything went still.

“Nesta.”

A hand was on her shoulder — Feyre — but Nesta did not feel or care for it. Someone had pulled Roksana away into the safety of their arms — away from the dead body with its departing soul. Deep inside of Nesta, the scent of roasted chestnuts and wood shavings began to fade, as if it had been caught in the wind and was about to be tossed away.

“No.”

That same word again, but this time it came with weight behind it. Defiance. Anger. Heartbreak. All her own, and yet piling on top of that, layer by layer, was every painful emotion and memory of loss that had been imprinted on the stone over the years, from the widows that had come before and had suffered unimaginably.

Something turned inside of Nesta, her magic flipping as if someone had turned a key in a lock to reveal not silver but white… A pure, snow white light that seeped from her fingertips, singing with gentle promise rather than destruction.

“No,” Nesta said.

That word again, but this time deadly calm.

Still.

Who do you want to be, Nesta?

Cassian’s words from the day before sounded in her head. At the time she had not known the answer, but now, her path had never been clearer.

Raising her steady blood-stained hands to hover over Mas’s wounds, Nesta let that icy wall protecting her emotions fall away inside of her. It crashed down around her like a dam whose gates had been opened, her emotions running like rampant and wild rapids, rushing into her blood and down strands of interwoven rope. Her power vibrated with a controlled energy and then that white light glowed, shining from her palms.

It was so bright that Nesta had to close her eyes to protect herself from the sheer brilliance of her power as it poured forth.

She did not need to look at Mas’s body to bear witness to her healing. Did not need to watch the housekeeper’s wounds knit themselves back together, as if someone were turning back time in slow motion.

She just knew.

And in that moment, Nesta also knew exactly who she was supposed to be, even as her body started to hurt.

Two weaving components, bound together as surely as a rope plaited with two complementing strands.

Protector.

Healer.

That was who Nesta was.

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