#thank you for the ask!!! these were very thought provoking (despite my lack of a proper answer for the second one LOL i am sorry about that

[whynotcherries]

you wanted asks, so i’m here with asks! two questions that are slightly similar:

what do you think deserves more representation in media?

what do you think is getting a good amount of representation in media, but this representation is usually inaccurate?

thank you for the ask, anon! <3 i kind of rambled (hence the cut), i apologize, but i would hope you wouldn't answer this question without expecting a long response 😭❤️

for the first question, i think disability as a whole deserves more representation in media. i am slightly biased in wanting to see more chronic illness rep (because that's sort of the thing that i definitely would've benefited from seeing in media before ending up with one) but i think most (...all?) disabilities are under-represented.

i would love to see more representation of *specifically* the chronic illnesses people live their whole lives with, but don't generally know they have until they're in unignorable constant pain/discomfort. like, an example of a big one is EDS. like, children should know chronic joint pain isn't just what everyone experiences, and people should know about co-occurring illnesses, and how being "double-jointed" is, way more often than people would assume, hypermobility.

it's just common chronic illnesses taking years to be diagnosed because nobody's heard of them. i would love for that to stop happening. i feel like tiktok is introducing more people to things like POTS, but there is such a need for it in official media. it's important for people not to be learning solely from strangers on the internet.

the second one is a really hard question to answer 😅 off the top of my head, there's not really a specific group that's represented in a way that's well-described as "as often as it should be, but badly."

in general, i think the issue of misrepresentation of any group is the result of under-representation on sets and in creative spaces... and usually when a group is under-represented on sets, they're under-represented in media, too. when there are voices of any given group involved in the creation of media, there are more people working to make sure the thing is created accurately. and when there's enough existing media depicting one group, there's more public critique from the audience about the accuracy of how they're depicted in said media, which will allows for more well-researched and accurate future work... (obviously, this only really applies when artists listen and do research). to help fix the issue of under-representation, more people need to create media with more diverse casts, and they have to actually involve people of those groups in the creation of their media in some way, and they have to accept criticism after doing both of those things.

but ALSO, the idea of something getting a "good amount" of representation is kind of subjective, and in most cases, so is accurate representation.

**and, just as a disclaimer, i am not an expert on any of this and there are definitely points of view i haven't learned yet. i am nineteen years old and taking one social justice class, which is not nearly enough experience to know a lot.**

[counterattacker]

so I like the art yo u made of um your monster say and arc AU or what not, and actually I saw them before and came back t olook again!! well, sorry that's probably not the right way to refer to them... uh anyway, um if you're willing to tell, do they have lore? or just silly versions ? either is good and any response of course is extra nice!!! annd.. this is my first time asking something to anyone. Anyways ur art is awesome thanks for reading!! <3

Oh man, thank you so, so much for the super-nice ask!!!! First of all, this absolutely made my day, and second of all, as for loooore...

(Long post, so it's going under a read-more!)

So, those Say and Arc designs, alongside a design for the Queen of Teeth (character from early Ghost songs/lore) that never saw the light of day, were for an AU that I've put on hold called Elegy for a Traveler. The basic premise of Elegy was that it was this giant crossover-but-not-really with vocal synths (primarily Vocaloid, SynthV, and UTAU, with a handful of fanloids and Cevio mascots), and characters from vocal synth songs (primarily Ghost, Masa's series, and Evillious Chronicles), all mixed together in this world where humans, gods, spirits and other strange creatures live! The few bits of it that were written were told in a sort of 'nested story' style-- part of Arc's story was being told by Say as a little tangent in their explanation to the main character as to why they're sitting in a tree in the middle of nowhere, while all of these stories are, themselves, being told to a gang of rowdy kids as a bedtime story. It's like nesting dolls, but for storytelling!

With that squared away, I can get to actually answering the question you asked: Say and Arc's lore! They were a Sikuvok (an original creature species created specifically for Elegy; I completely rehauled the species and made it its own thing after putting Elegy on hold, so I'd probably redesign Elegy!Say & Arc slightly if I were to pick the AU back up), living in the woods with their family and generally accepting the controlling behavior and strict nature of their parents & the other adults in their little group. That is... until Arc came along.

Arc was born in winter of the same year as Say, and was particularly strange and loud and spontaneous, especially for a Sikuvok. They often dreamed up new ideas that made no sense, provoked the adults into fights despite their youth and inexperience, and worst of all (or, at least, worst if you're a very traditional-minded cat-weasel creature that lives in the woods), they picked their own name. Say was intrigued by them, and spent a great deal of time with them, to the point where they thought of and treated each other as siblings. Say's parents, however, were deeply upset by this and, one night, after being lectured by their father and reasserting their position as Arc's brother, they gave themself what essentially amounts to a battlefield amputation except for top surgery and fled with Arc out into the rest of the world. There, they built their own little life, wandering from place to place in search of interesting secrets.

As for silly versions, I don't particularly have any official ones, but I did discuss the concept of a shampooed and blow-dried Elegy!Say and Arc with some friends once-- they would be extremely comically fluffy and lack any intimidation factor whatsoever, so, I don't know, but that seems pretty silly to me!

Thank you so, so much again for the ask-- I really appreciate it!

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios

[fanmoose12]

can u pls pls make a prompt of this / this :(( when youre not busy that is

thanks for @rainystripe for creating that awesome fanart and coming up with the idea!

Glasses had been Hange's constant companion ever since they remembered themself.

They were a part of their childhood, same as skinned knees and unruly pigtails.

Hange wasn't quite themself without ever present specs on their face. The long, curved nose, big brown eyes and freckled cheeks with faint dimples - they just didn't look the same when Hange took the glasses off. They didn't look, didn't feel the same when they weren't wearing the glasses.

Glasses were the first thing Hange touched in the morning and they were the last thing Hange took off before going to sleep.

And despite all limitations that accompanied their poor vision, Hange didn't wish to part with their glasses.

It wasn't just an accessory or a part of their look. It was a part of Hange themself, and an essential one at that.

And just as the glasses were a constant, so were the visits to opthalmologist's office.

Picking up new glasses, fixing the old ones, routine checkups... Hange had been visiting the opthalmologist's office all their life. They met lots of doctors - good ones, bad ones, mediocre.

But it was the first time in their life that they came across an ophthalmologist who was so... handsome.

Now, of course, Hange had seen their fair share of attractive doctors - open faces, intelligent eyes, kind smiles... Who wouldn't like a doctor like that?

But there was something unique about doctor Levi Ackerman, something that inevitably pulled Hange in, something that intrigued them.

Doctor Ackerman was very different from the picture of ordinary doctor. Scowling face, curt manner of speaking, short stature... By all means, he was supposed to be an unpleasant person.

And, Hange supposed, he really was. Perhaps, for others people, though, but not for them.

For them, doctor Ackerman was an enigma they longed to get more familiar with.

Before meeting him, Hange never thought that eyesight checks could be so... well, sensual, for lack of better word.

But when doctor Ackerman gripped their chin and moved their head back to administer the eye drops, when he flippantly, but carefully tucked away their hair, when their fingers brushed as he handed them a new pair of glasses, Hange felt heat spread onto their face and their pulse racing that much faster.

It was embarrassing to even entertain the idea, but Hange was never good at lying to themself, and soon they had to admit - they developed a crush on their ophthalmologist.

The accident at their lab, the small explosion that broke their glasses, their usual ophthalmologist going on a vacation, Erwin recommending Hange his university friend, Hange going to a small clinic to see him, a small retinal tear watchful doctor Ackerman noticed during a checkup, the need to have it seal with laser coagulation and then his insistence for Hange to come a week later to make sure that the tear is sealed... It was all a bunch of unexpected happenings that inconvenienced Hange terribly, and... let them meet a man as interesting as doctor Ackerman.

"The tear seems to be healing properly," doctor Ackerman said during Hange's fourth visit. He continued to speak, explaining the intricacies of a new eye regime, what Hange had to do and what they absolutely couldn't do for another week or so. Hange tried listening to him, they really did, but doctor Ackerman was writing something down as he talked, and Hange became somewhat transfixed by precise and quick movements of his hand, by the way light from a desk lamp made his features seem even sharper and his deep, quiet voice sent shivers down their spine.

"Four-eyes?" doctor called, bringing Hange back to the present. They blinked, staring owlishly at him. "Is there something you don't understand?"

"Um..." Hange contemplated saying yes, just to have doctor Ackerman explain it all once again. There wasn't anything he said Hange wasn't already familiar with, they've been dealing with problems like that their whole life, but at the same time... Hange wanted to spend a little more time with him.

You're becoming way too pathetic, a voice in their head whispered. Unfortunately, Hange had to agree with it.

"No," they forced on a smile. "Everything is clear, thank you for your time. Do I need to schedule another visit?"

Looking at them a bit warily, doctor Ackerman shook his head. "You have to come back in half a year or so, for another routine checkup, but for now there is no need for us to meet again."

Hange couldn't help a twitch of disappointment that his words provoked.

"If you have any issues or complaints, just contact my assistant, she'll organise an appointment."

"Alright," Hange stood up and picked up their backpack. "I'll be going then."

Doctor Ackerman slowly nodded, his eyes intently studying their face. "Get some rest, four-eyes," he mumbled. "These circles under your eyes can't be good for your eyesight."

Despite themself, Hange snickered. Their mood brightened even more, when they noticed a slight smile on doctor's handsome face.

They were still smiling when they approached doctor's assistant - a young, pretty woman called Petra.

"Was everything to your satisfaction?" she wondered with a kind smile.

Leaning against Petra's desk, Hange nodded with a low chuckle. "Even more than I expected."

"That's good, now before you go, I need you to sign this form..."

Petra lowered her head, shifting through the documents on her desk.

Hange patiently waited, their eyes wondering around the room. When the door to doctor Ackerman's office opened and he came rushing in the hallway, Hange smiled. The smile grew bigger, as they realized doctor was approaching to them.

"Petra has a lot of work on her hands as it is," he said before Hange could even ask. His words were quick, but sure like he had rehearsed them. "So here," he handed Hange a rectangular piece of paper. "Call me if you need anything."

He wasn't meeting their eyes and his cheeks were slightly red... Hange felt their heart beat with twice its usual speed as his words finally settled.

"Doctor Ackerman, I-"

"Levi," he corrected. "Call me Levi, four-eyes, and if you want to- well," he softly cursed, running a hand through his hair. "You can just call."

He turned on his heels and headed back to his office, disappearing behind the oak door before Hange could utter a single sound.

Holding the note with Levi's phone number between their fingers, they slowly turned back to Petra, who was sporting a sly, wicked grin.

"Isn't it weird?" Hange asked, their voice more breathy than they intended. "That he calls me four-eyes? He's an ophthalmologist, does he call everyone like that?"

"Nope," Petra gave Hange a subtle wink. "As far as I'm aware, you're the only one."

Oh... Hange curled their lips in a grin. Well, that was certainly very intriguing.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2 

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun. 

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest. 

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes. 

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now. 

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth. 

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable. 

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks. 

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises. 

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-” 

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees. 

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine. 

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.  

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor. 

“So I was correct, about the furniture.” You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck. 

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"  

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking. 

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends. 

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear. 

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

[mimisempai]

Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha x noble!fem!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected yoru knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: actually none but a misunderstanding and the lack of editing that i think u guys may or may not be used to at this point

word count: 5.3k

part two!!

The knight before you was the opposite of a man. She was so opposite in fact, that you had to actively make yourself not appear like you were shocked. You knew that the twins were having to try even harder to keep composure.

She was without a doubt, one of the prettiest people you had ever seen before. Being a lady, you had seen so many handsome young men and gorgeous young women, but there wasn’t one who’s fairness struck you like this woman’s. Her eyes were an unfamiliar shade of blue, and you knew that they were the kind of eyes that were made for surveillance and observation, and if you looked hard enough, maybe a window to her thoughts. She had pink lips that were set into a genuine yet thin smile, almost like she wasn’t used to wordless pleasantries at all. Her hair was cropped just above her shoulders and it shined a brilliant red that you had rarely ever seen. Despite the powerful and extremely potent energy that she was giving off, she was short, shorter than you, but something told you that she was strong. Stronger than anyone knew quite yet, but you could feel it. But, you were still confused, regardless of how she had rendered you breathless for the quickest of seconds.

The problem wasn’t that she was a woman. There wasn’t even really a problem at all. It was just the fact that a woman was a knight. You had never seen anything like it in your entire life, and you had never even thought of the possibility of that happening. At all. You had to fight tooth and nail to keep property that you hardly even wanted, all because you were a woman. Because you weren’t pregnant with a son who could carry his hypothetical father’s name. Because you were a woman without the heir to your late husband’s fortunes, you were seen as nothing, for a long time. And now, there were women who were becoming knights?

You were more impressed than confused.

You felt another pinch from Pietro, this time a little harder. You breathed in through your nose, a welcoming smile on your face as you grappled for words.

“Hello,” you said, public voice still working hard as you internally scrambled for words. You were looking the red headed woman right in her eyes, the eyes that were so intense that if you hadn’t been in rooms where extreme business had gone down, you would have melted. You tried to remember the standard greeting. “Welcome to my keep. I hope that I can accommodate you during your stay, and that you are successful in your search for what it is that you are looking for.” You knew the words were off by a bit, but you saw the coachman nod in approval that you didn’t really care to have.

The knight took a step forward, and the sound of a heavy footstep crashing against your well-kept grass made you shiver. The trampled grass had nothing on the way that you reacted to hearing her voice. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mirellis. I sincerely thank you for allowing me into your home.”

It was hardly your home, and you could tell that the two of you had already gotten off on the wrong foot. You knew it was because of your shameless staring. “May I be graced with knowing your name?”

If possible, she stood up a little straighter. “I am Natasha Romanoff, My Lady.”

If you were hearing correctly, you heard the slight awkwardness in her last two words. Only people with titles of their own called other lords and ladies “my lady”, and lower born people were to call them “milady”. She must have been lowborn, just like you. “It is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Natasha. May I show you around my keep?”

“Typically,” the coachman cut in, and you furrowed your brows at the way he interrupted the stop-and-start flow of the conversation. “It isn’t the lord—sorry—lady of the house’s job to do that.”

Wanda opened her mouth, highly defensive of you and ready to go because it was a fight she could afford to pick. A servant and a coachman were on the same level. She would face no punishment for talking back to the man. However, you reached to your right and squeezed her hand twice.

“Well, I am the lady of the house, and I would like to show my new guest her accommodations.” The man narrowed his eyes slightly at you, and it became obvious to everyone that he clearly wasn’t expecting back talk from you.

You knew that everyone thought widows were these gentle, sad women. The type that cried themselves to sleep and wished to meet their husbands again in the afterlife. The type that listened at anything that a man uttered simply because he was a man, or because they didn’t have the energy to entertain an arguement or to correct them. Especially ladies. But you were not supposed to be a lady. You wore fancy dresses and had gold and had a small castle to yourself, but part of you would always be that girl who beat up the boys who lived a few acres away for talking about your hair and then rolled in mud with them, laughing about it the very next day.

Even through the glances that were thrown between the five of you standing there, you continued. “My staff has worked so hard on making sure it was nice for her. I’d like to show off their diligence now.” It wasn’t a question.

“Do as you please, milady.”

You resisted the urge to nod smugly. “Thank you.” You watched him climb back onto his chair and quirked a brow. The coachman always stayed for dinner. It was considered offensive if they did not, both to the knight and to the lord or lady. “Did you not want to stay for the meal, good sir?”

“I must get back, milady. If that is alright with you.”

You knew you should utter something lengthy that you didn’t mean at all, but the most you could get out after his blatant rudeness was a quick “safe travels.” There was a long stretch of awkward silence as you watched him leave, arms hanging at your sides as the trotting sound of horses carried him away.

“Goodness, was he rude.”

“Pietro.” Wanda hissed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You whirled around to look at the knight— Natasha— and saw that she was already looking at you with blatant curiosity.

“Would it be alright with you if I took you around myself?” You asked, and she nodded her head. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry. Would you like to eat first?”

You were beginning to realize very quickly that the woman was the staring type. Her eyes, no, her entire face and persona was so demanding and intense. It was hard to even be provoked by her shameless staring and possible judgement, because at least she was open with it. The more you looked at her, though, the more you knew that you would never understand what was happening behind her eyes. “I would like to see.”

“Then you will see,” you stated, and gave Wanda a look. She knew immediately what it meant, and she walked off to tell the chefs to expect you in an hour or so. “We can start with the outside area and make our way in.”

She was very much the staring type. Not even just at faces or people in general, but with everything. You noticed that when anything caught her eye, she looked at it for a few seconds in silence and then moved on, like she heard them speak something unknown to everyone else and took the time to listen.

“These are the training grounds,” you said after walking to the back half of the castle, where the grass was still trained to grow with strength and hardly a thing was out of place. The training grounds were for young squires in the area or kids that just wanted to play fight. You had made the area yourself, and it was one of your favorite parts of your home. You liked being able to look outside and see children playing freely, and the sound of laughter was something that everyone needed in life. “You’re free to use them in any way you see fit, of course.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“You’ll run into aspiring knights here and there, but they are good children.” Your voice was fond as you spoke of them, and then took a right. “And just down here, we have the gardens.”

And gardens, they were. They were the only thing in the castle that was actually yours while your husband was alive. When you had arrived, the patch of land was so disgraced that it would have been insulting to call it a garden. The flowers were droopy, the soil was dry, and the vibrant colors that were once there had been sucked away. Your husband didn’t care about the area, and neither did anyone else, so you adopted it. You had built it from the ground up and made it into what it was; a huge and gorgeous garden full of colors, with ivy hanging from rails in what looked like an unruly manner and bushes full of roses and begonias and everything in between. It was caged off by golden rails, but the rails were hardly binding. They were so wrapped with leaves that it looked like they grew with the garden.

“This is my favorite part of the keep,” you stated softly, walking down it. You had expanded it so that it went down and into the forest, the rails forming a path. You walked down it every so often yourself, deep into the woods where no one would bother you, where you could look at the stars above in peace.

“Is it yours?”

“What?” You asked, tearing your eyes from a particular bush to see her looking up at the ivy.

“This garden,” she said, and you realized that you were strolling closer and closer to the woods. You stopped walking, but didn’t make any move to go and meet her. “Do you tend to it?”

“It’s mine,” you answered, not even bothering to take the subtle pride out of your voice. “It’s my project. I started it when I got here, and now it’s flourishing.”

“Where did you learn how to garden?”

It was no secret that typically, ladies did not get their hands dirty, even if the activity was simple planting. They were supposed to stay inside and knit or something like that. Ladies could go outside to look at gardens, but they had staff to plant for them. So, did Natasha not know that you weren’t born with a title? “When I was a girl,” you answered vaguely.

“Your Lord Father allowed you?”

My father was no lord. “Yours allowed you to wield a sword?” The sound of armor clanking brought you out of your slight hostility, and you sighed. “I apologize.”

“It’s quite alright.” The harshness in her voice told you that she was offended by what you said, and she turned around once she realized that the two of you were nearing the tree line.

You walked around with Natasha, giving her the rest of the tour halfheartedly and only speaking when absolutely necessary. It was clear that the two of you clearly weren’t clicking as well as you hoped to, and while that was tragic, you weren’t going to kiss anyone’s feet to get in their good graces.

“I’m sure you’re hungry by now.” The second you stepped on the wood floors of the inside of your keep, the warmth hit you. Your shoes clicked on the material as you walked ahead of her, not looking back or waiting for an answer. “I’ll show you the kitchens, and then the dining hall.”

The dining hall was known for its size. It was huge, and the ceiling was high. Everything that was said echoed, and the lighting provided by strategically placed candles made the hall have an elegant, almost eerie feeling to it. The staff was already bustling around, plating food and pouring wine. Wanda and Pietro were already there, their harsh and bickering whispers hitting your ears until they heard you approaching.

“Oh, please, sit.” Wanda did so immediately, and Pietro walked around the table to pull out your chair, which sat at the head of it.

You cringed when Pietro sat down. He had been dethroned from his seat at your left hand, because it was courteous of you to give up that seat for your new night. That was one tradition that you wouldn’t break, simply because it would be seen as disrespectful. “You can sit right there, Lady Natasha.” You saw her lip twitch.

In all honesty, you had no idea what to call her formally. You two certainly weren’t close enough to address each other by first name, and you doubted she even knew it. But she wasn’t a man, and male knights were called “Sir”. She wasn’t a “Sir”. You didn’t want to offend her further by calling her it.

The first half of the dinner was in awkward silence. Wanda kept giving you glances, and you frowned at the way she was looking at you- like you had clearly messed something up. You sighed through your nose when you heard Pietro clear his throat, a sound that meant that he was about to run his mouth.

“So, my lady knight, what do you think of the castle?”

The red head didn't even realize she was being addressed until she looked up and saw you and everyone else looking at her expectantly. “It’s very nice.” You waited a bit, listening to hear whatever empty compliments that she would give for the sake of being polite. Ten seconds passed, and there was nothing.

You chuckled. “Thank you,” you answered just as shortly, holding back the urge to laugh much louder than was appropriate.

“So, where are you from?”

“The slums.” You nod in acknowledgment, and guilt. Sometimes you repressed the images of people living from coin to coin. But silly you, silly everyone. For there to have been people on the top, there had to be people at the bottom. And those who lived at the bottom lived in what were called “the slums”. “I don’t know if you would know anything about that, My Lady.”

Wanda made a noise that told you that the bold knight’s words were clearly meant to wound you, and Pietro’s brows shot upwards so quickly that you barely saw the movement happen. You stared at your plate, jaw dropped open in surprise and mortification.

You were fuming on the inside. How the hell would she know who you were? What you dealt with? How your husband was as cruel as he was disgusting? How you grew up a poor farmer’s daughter? She didn’t know, and that was what kept you grounded. How could she have known?

Before you could get in your right mind to utter a threat that you were sure that your late husband had said in your presence at least once, you nodded your head and took it in stride. You stood up from the table and didn’t look at her or the confused look she shot you after looking at your painfully unfinished plate.

“Wanda will show you to your chambers, Lady Natasha. I hope you enjoy your first dinner of many here at my castle, and I hope that tonight begins your yearlong journey to wisdom.” And with that, you turned on your heels after taking your plate shamelessly, heels clacking against the polished floor once again, silence filling the hall until long after you left.

§§

By the third day Natasha was there and the second that you had been blatantly avoiding her, you were starting to feel bad for fueling the fire between you two. She was to stay under your roof and do what she had to for a full year, and you antagonized her. You gave the sacred act of showing a knight to their room to someone else, and you understood Natasha’s lack of speech towards you to be a consequence of that.

But that was fine. You certainly didn’t need for the girl to like you. It would have made things much easier and smoother, but it wasn’t a necessity. Your job was to give her food, water, shelter, and time to find herself and her purpose as a knight. Nothing said that the two of you had to be as thick as thieves.

But that also didn’t mean that you would actively pass on befriending her. You decided after a long time of sitting at the polished wooden desk that had become yours that you would be her friend should fate allow it, and if not, there was no harm to it. But you weren’t going to chase her, no matter how wonderfully her bright hair would work as an object to follow.

A soft calling of your name happened seconds before Wanda opened the door. You greeted her informally and grinned at her, until you saw the look on her face and the sealed paper in her hand. Immediately, your joyful expression left and you sighed.

“Who is it this time?” Wanda shut the door behind her after your question, and you gave her a look. “It can’t be Lord Rumlow again.”

Brock Rumlow was not a good man. No man who had power was a good man, but he was one of the worst. He had gone through two wives in the past three years, and the second one was found with stab wounds in the forest. How he had gotten out of being tried for her murder was beyond you, and it made you sick to your stomach every time you thought about it. Now, he set his sights on you, a widow sitting on plenty of money and land. He had been sending you letters, flowers, gold, dresses, anything that a narcissistic man would think that another human being would like simply because the things were tangible. And the letters always said the same old thing; to marry him. And he wasn’t ever really asking.

“It’s him,” Wanda confirmed, her tone telling you that she felt the same way you did towards the vile man.

“I want to burn it,” you said, and immediately, Wanda crossed the room to put the note in the fire, waiting for your final say. “Let me read what this imbecile has asked for now. I wonder what beautiful horse or jewel he’ll offer for my hand, this time.”

You took the letter from Wanda gently and gave her a small smile, and she urged you to open it, just as nervous to see what was inside as you were. You stared at his seal for a few seconds, eyeing the red wax with a three headed serpent engraved with disdain before tearing it right open. You did the rest without ceremony, your eyes narrowed as you found the messy and unbothered handwriting that you would recognize from anywhere.

Lady of Riverstone,

I take it that my other letters may have been lost to the wind. I apologize for not reaching you earlier. But, if you have been getting my letters, then my main offer stands the same. I would be honored for you to take my name and stand under my veil, and for you to become my wife. Marriage to me would give you a great deal of benefits, and I have listed them down below. I would like an answer within two fortnights, and if I don’t get one, I’ll send another letter.

It was all more of the same, more of the same offers and then a little more, vague threats, and monotonous language that he hardly knew how to use correctly. You read with a neutral expression, even though Wanda was shocked reading all of the things he was offering. He signed it off like he did every other letter.

Lord Rumlow, of Serpent’s Keep.

“He offered you two tons of gold to send your father?”

“Do you notice how he’s never called me Lady Mirellis?” You asked, sipping the chalice of water that constantly sat at your desk, and got refilled whenever someone walked by and saw it nearing empty. “Or by my name?”

“I have.”

“It’s always ‘Lady of Riverstone’,” you sighed, shaking your head. “If he wants the land, he should just go on and say that. It’s much more respectable for him to be honest with me. Maybe I would have said yes already.”

Wanda made a face. “You’re lying, now.”

“Well, of course I am. I've never seen him, and all he wants is a woman to beat around. I’m not that woman, no woman is. Do you think I want to find myself dead within a half year of being wed?” There was a sharp knock on your door.

“He wouldn’t kill you. He wouldn’t gain these assets after your death,” Wanda said softly, understanding that you were about to finish the conversation. “He must be truly desperate to pay ou two tons of gold. That could help nearly anyone out of a pickle, and it would certainly pay off some things back at the farm.”

You knew that. But the truth was… you held a certain amount of irrational and rational disdain for your family. You knew that some of it was warranted just off of the way humans worked in general, but others weren’t. You knew for a fact that a part of you would always be bitter about the way that no one fought hard enough for you not to be taken from your home. You knew that a part of you would be bitter because they took the money that your late husband had offered them, like you were the fattest, most desirable pig in the pen. And there would forever, and ever, be a part of you—if not all of you— that would be angry about your wedding night.

Half of your family showed. The other half came, took you to a back room, and cried. They cried on your night of terror, and you comforted them. It was the one time where you truly needed your mother and her maternal instincts, the one time you needed your brother to teach you some moves that could hurt a man if you needed them. And they either weren’t where you needed them, or weren’t what you needed them. Both truths hurt the same.

“My family doesn’t need money,” you settled on saying, swallowing the burning that came with thinking about the people you shared blood with. “If they needed it, they would ask.”

“Your father is a proud man, he wouldn’t set that pride aside. Especially not to ask one of his own daughters for money.”

“Well, let that be their problem,” you said, although your harsh words weren’t as impactful because of the tremor in them. “I won’t marry Lord Rumlow.”

Wanda leaned forward a bit, and she took both of your hands in hers as the knocking grew louder. She looked you in the eyes, just the way one true friend looked at another. With the same ferocity in her voice as the time when she assured you that no one was going to force you to give up your rights to ladyship, her next words were no louder than a whisper. “And no one will make you.”

Your eyes almost grew watery as you held her hands, feeling the purity of the bond you shared with her surging. “Thank you.” You looked towards the door and let her hands go, uttering a soft command.

Pietro stood there with his arms crossed and a flushed look on his face. He cocked his head to the side at the sight of you and Wanda hovering over a broken open letter, and took a few steps forward. It was upside down, so you turned it his way so that he could read it easier, and the second he recognized the handwriting, he groaned.

“I think I can assume what this is,” he rolled his eyes, and he picked it up and walked over to the fire. When you’d said nothing, he tossed it in and the three of you watched it burn. “I came to tell you that our little knight is strange.”

“How so?”

“Well, she's writing.”

You furrowed your brows. “Writing?” You repeated, remembering her saying that she grew up poor. Most commoners had no idea how to read or write. You only learned because you had to learn when you married a lord. And even if knights had the ability to read and write, they hardly did. Words had very little value to a man who could wield a sword.

But Natasha Romanoff was no man.

“What on earth would she be writing about?” Wanda asked, leaning against the desk. “I wonder if she’s required to write a review on her treatment.”

Pietro gave a short but genuine laugh. “She’s probably writing down terrible things about you to give to the king after she returns home,” he joked, and Wanda cracked a smile, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

“I couldn’t care less about a review of my hospitality or lack therefore of,” you drawled.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do, because you’re a kind person.”

“But she is not.” You felt bad for saying the words that you said not even seconds after.

“We don’t know that,” Wanda reasoned softly. “Actually, I happen to know that she’s quite nice. And she’s level headed and very smart, from what I can see. She’s no man with a little praise under his belt, that’s for sure.”

“So, she’s not boastful.” You said. “That’s good. But I don’t see her and I sharing more interactions than what we need to.”

“With all due respect, Lady Y/N,” Pietro said, leaning forward with that characteristic smirk of his plastered over his face. “You are very dramatic. You always have been.”

You could hardly even pretend to be offended. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Wanda said quietly, though not fearfully at all. “You are always dramatic, and then things work out.”

Wanda was right. She very much was, actually. Things like the river nearly drying up and crops rotting too quickly and other things that were completely out of your hands terrified you. The things that you couldn’t control made you irrational and erratic, and that was probably your worst fault. You did the same with things you could change, only with worrying. Something as simple as an apology could fix something, but you would sit on giving the apology for hours, sometimes even days.

That night, when it seemed like everyone else was fast asleep and dreaming sweet little images, you put on slippers and walked right outsides, your guards not even asking you where you were going. You walked right out of the side doors and into the garden, humming quietly to yourself as you walked through the entrance of it with your pails of water.

It was quiet besides the noise of bugs chirping, and the occasional flap of wings from birds above. Even your humming had tapered off, and it felt like you could have been able to hear things from miles away. You smiled in the crisp air as you bent over to water a rose bush, a soft affirmation towards the red flowers when you saw how pretty they looked in the moonlight. When you stood back up and turned your head around, you gasped in fright and tumbled towards the ground.

“Shit,” a hand caught your arm and the other was on your shoulder as your chest heaved, adrenaline rushing from being so frightened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me.” It took you a second to see the face of the woman speaking in the moonlight, but when you saw it was the knight, you sighed.

You were set back on two feet, and then Natasha took a step backwards. “Why are you out here?”

She shrugged. “It’s pretty.” There was a stretch of silence as you waited for her to say something, anything else. “It’s safe.”

A part of you was angered by that statement. Yes, the gardens were safe. Of course they were, they were your safety! They were your place that you went to when you felt like nothing was in your control, like your own decisions weren’t yours. Nothing could hurt you in the gardens, and plants couldn’t talk. They held every secret that you could ever tell, they held every tear that you never shed in front of another, and they saw every emotion that you were too stoic to show in front of others. They were the one place that you could get peace. And now the knight has ruined it.

But on the other hand, you were proud of yourself for creating something that someone else can admire. You created something that someone else could be free in, and in a way, that was amazing. And that hand was outweighing the other.

So, you said, “I’m glad it feels that way.” You cleared your throat softly when you realized that you were speaking to her the way you spoke to the twins. “I created it as my own safe space, so I’m glad someone else thinks of it that way, too.”

There was a short yet heavy silence between you and Natasha, and then you saw her turn to face you, her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “I know you’re not very excited to have me here, but I’m here. So we can at least try to be cordial.”

“Is that not what we’re being?” You asked, not even taking your eyes off of the moon. “I thought we were even being a little friendly.”

“It would be nice if it lasted.” Natasha muttered, and you nodded your head.

“I don’t know if I offended you with the question about whether or not your father approved your knighthood,” you said, sighing. “I assume that I did. And if you carry around that offense, then I apologize. I don’t like talking about my own father, but you couldn’t have known that.”

“You do not need to be forgiven,” she states. “I apologize, as well.”

“And it’s not that I don’t want you here,” you started, already cursing yourself for going into what she had said not even a full minute earlier. You were tense as she waited for you to continue, but you just shrugged and sighed. “Just know that that’s not it.” Something reached toward you out of the corner of your eye, and you finally turned your head to look at her.

She was… she was nothing short of gorgeous. You were taller than her, so you looked down at her just a little bit. Her red hair looked more brown than anything, and her blue eyes were pale and still as beautiful as they were during the day. There was the smallest hint of a smile on her face, nervous almost, as you looked down at the arm that was reached out your way. The moon was shedding you both its white light, and it primarily rested right where her arm was extended, her palm lord and turned to the side.

She wanted to shake hands with you. Shaking hands was seen as archaic, and knights certainly didn’t touch ladies unless they were assisting them. But, you knew by now that Natasha was not the typical knight. One of her fingers twitched, and you realized that she was just waiting there, her hand hanging in the air, like a gavel ready to drop at any moment. And quickly, almost enough to make the other woman startle, you took her right hand in your own and shook it twice, keeping your eyes right on hers.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

                                                       ******

hiiii guys! still establishing things here with this chapter, but when things kick off, they are going full speed. i already love this fic, and i can’t wait to put all my ideas down for it as the finished product! i hope you guys liked it, and if you did, please show her some love! i have a little taglist building up, so here it goes!

@normanijauregui​ @fayhar​ @8plasma​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ 

@slut-for-nat​ @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool​

@200605chaeng​ @thescottishavenger @antidaytime​ @jenny-song​ @madamevirgo​ @natasha-danvers​ @drdarcy-lewis​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ 

[futurequeenofravka]

Good Enough - Sirius x Reader

Summary:

After a spat with a Slytherin girl in your year, you’ve start to doubt your relationship with Sirius Black. While you are wildly in love with him, you start to question why he chose you, a “mudblood.”

Warnings: None, I don’t think? Just a little angsty!

A/N: this is my first piece! it’s a lil test of a fic I’d like to write eventually, and it was prompted by mmfd so I decided to tweak the dialogue from the show a little to make it wizarding world esque hahah. But I hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading, this is the first time I’ve ever shared my creative writing online so please let me know what you think (also please send requests)! Also sorry if the formatting looks a lil weird, posting this from my phone made it kinda wonky.

Word count: 2.2k-ish words.

—

Pst. Psssst.

Sirius’s whisper grew louder until I looked over my shoulder to where he and James were sitting a few desks back from Lily and I. He tried to silently mouth a question as Professor Binns droned on about last night’s reading. James and Lily quietly laughed as they watched Sirius try to repeat himself a number of times before ultimately giving up. I shot him an apologetic look for my lip reading skills, or I guess lack thereof, as I watched him rip up a piece of parchment and scribble down a message. He waited for a spare moment in which Binns had his back turned to the class to write something on the chalkboard and then tossed the crumpled up piece of paper at me.

“What’s it say?” Lily asked as I unfolded the piece of parchment that Sirius had thrown my way.

“Blimey is he fucking annoying.” I said letting out a small laugh as I read the note.

“Well?” She leaned in closer trying to read the note from over my shoulder.

I slid the parchment across our shared desk so that she could read the message as well. Hi. I just wanted to say you look beautiful today. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 7? Lily sarcastically groaned as she slid the note back over to me and we pretended to go back to our class work. I turned back around to see Sirius intently waiting for my answer, I rolled my eyes at the silly gesture but smiled as I gave him a small nod to confirm our meeting later.

“You two are so sickly sweet sometimes, honestly I think I might have a toothache.” She said loud enough to provoke a laugh from James who eyed her from a few desks over.

“Beats the headache I get from watching you and Potter dodge your feelings for each other.” I retorted, quietly laughing as I tried to refocus my attention back to my textbook.

After class had ended I said bye to Lily as I made my way to the library to study for my potions exam. Sirius had already promised James that he’d come watch the Gryffindors practice for the upcoming Quidditch match so I’d have to study alone today, which I didn’t particularly mind because usually with Sirius around I hardly got any studying done. He pressed a kiss on my temple before we parted ways. When I got to the library I took a seat in the corner as usual and began to sprawl my textbooks across the table.

In the midst of studying I heard giggles from a herd of girls a few tables over. Looking over I met eyes with Ianthe, a Slytherin also in sixth year, who was sitting alongside Sirius’s cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa. Though I had never spoken more than a few words to either of them, I knew I was not favored in the Black household. If anything, they probably hated me; although Sirius would never burden me with that confirmation, I knew how his family felt about me and “my kind.”

Being muggle born was still a rarity at Hogwarts, and one that pureblood families often had strong feelings against. Lily and I became fast friends because of this. Being two of the only Muggle born students at Hogwarts made fitting in quite hard sometimes. There were often things that we didn’t understand or we lost on. We relied on Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas a lot for explanations and now as of recently on the “Marauders,” as they called themselves, as well. But it was comforting to have Lily around, to have someone who understood experiences unique to us. Someone who understood what it felt like to miss basic muggle things while away at school, like televisions or even just pens.

I rolled my eyes at the giggling girls and went back to reading the next chapter in my textbook. Several minutes passed before my studying was interrupted again, this time I looked up to see the three slender girls approaching my table, a wicked grin plastered across each of their faces as they surrounded my table.

“Can I help you?” I breathed looking up from my book.

“Yes actually. Would you mind backing off of Sirius?” Ianthe mused as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” I asked, Bellatrix laughed at my response, a cackle echoing across the room.

“I thought dating you would just be his latest phase but it’s been almost 6 months. I expected that he’d come crawling back to me by now but you seem to be standing in my way.” Ianthe ran her fingers over my notes and shuffled my things around as she spoke.

“In your way of what? Stealing my boyfriend?”

“Precisely.” Narcissa chimed in from behind the blonde haired girl.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s kind of pathetic how you constantly follow Sirius around like a puppy dog. One day I’m sure he’ll bore of having a little pet mudblood and finally come back to his senses.” Bellatrix said, her tone was cold and cruel as she knocked over a few of my things and proceeded with a sarcastic oops.

“I mean our families have been practically planning our wedding since before we were even born.” Ianthe said trying to refocus my attention back on her.

“Shove off, the lot of you.” I said trying to ignore anymore of their remarks.

“Feisty today aren’t we, Y/N. I would’ve never expected such boldness from a filthy little mud blood.” Bellatrix said cackling again.

“Just leave me alone please.” My voice strained this time.

“You really do ruin all the fun, don’t you, Y/L/N? But before we go, I just have to ask, dear. Does our darling Padfoot still like to have his neck kissed? You know, just above that mole.” Ianthe tapped her finger to the side of her neck.

“You’re all sick.”

“Maybe but at least we don’t have dirty blood.”

My heart beat fast as I picked up my belongings from off the ground, desperately trying to get out of the library as quickly as possible. I ran through the corridors back toward Gryffindor tower, tears welling up in my eyes and slowly beginning to fall despite my best efforts to hold them back. I ran past the other students and back to my dormitory praying that it would actually be empty for once. It was not. Lily was sat on her bed reading a book when she looked up to see me tears running down my face while I tried to keep a cool demeanor. Her face cloaked in worry as she asked if I was okay, her words triggered a visceral reaction as I finally let myself break down in tears. She came over to me and brought me back to her bed and hugged me for a moment, stroking my back waiting until I was ready to speak.

After my sobs and sniffles had mostly come to a stop I recounted the entirety of what had happened in the library. Sharing the words exchanged between me and the three Slytherin girls and the doubt that now seeped into my mind. Lily fumed, her anger rising as she listened to me talk about what had happened.

“Y/N, you don’t actually believe that do you?” She asked, her face still cloaked with worry.

“I mean why shouldn’t I? She’s right, I’ve seen the way people look at us.”

“What does it matter what they think?”

“It’s not what they think, it’s the fact that they’re right. You know exactly how Sirius’ family is, I’m probably just another conquest to him. Girls like Ianthe were bred to marry boys like him, to protect their bloodlines. They’ve basically been betrothed since birth, Lily!”

“Sirius is his own person. He is not his family. You should know better than anyone that that boy lives to break rules. And I seriously doubt it but if he doesn’t appreciate how absolutely brilliant you are just because you were muggle born then he’s not worth your time.”

I knew Lily was right, it was rare that she wasn’t. But my mind still wandered to a dark place that echoed with Ianthe’s comments. She stayed with me for another hour or so before she got ready to go over to the Great Hall for dinner. I didn’t realize how long we had been sitting in the dorm. I looked over at the clock surprised to see it was almost 7. I promised Sirius I’d meet him in the astronomy tower soon. Surely I couldn’t face him after what had just happened but my heart hurt thinking about standing him up.

“You going to be alright?” Lily asked before heading out the door.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later.” I reassured her.

“Alright, if you need anything just give a shout.”

I sighed as she closed the door and headed off. I looked down at my mascara stained sleeves and quickly changed into a clean shirt and wiped away the smeared makeup from beneath my eyes. Regardless of how I felt, I had to face Sirius.

I walked through the empty halls over to the Astronomy tower. Springtime at Hogwarts had an underrated charm to it. The weather was ideal, chill but not too cold. Tonight was no different, the air tonight was crisp, the wind blew gently through my hair as I made my way up the winding staircase. When I made it to the very top I saw Sirius gazing across the school grounds. His face looking intently over the beautifully crafted buildings and through the lush forests around us. I stayed silent for a minute just to admire him. The handsome playboy that I always thought I loathed but whom had somehow not only stolen my heart but had also become my best friend.

When he finally sensed my presence he turned around, my heart fluttered just looking at the kind, dopey smile wiped across his face as he held out his hand for me. When I grabbed it, he pulled me in close. My face buried into his chest as he held me for a minute. I looked behind him to see a blanket laid across the ground a small picnic set up for us.

“Remus helped me bribe the house elves into sneaking me some food so we could have dinner up here.” He excitedly motioned over to the set up.

“It looks lovely, Sirius.” I spoke softly as if my words could be broken with just a tap.

“What’s wrong? Oh Merlin, you hate it, don’t you?” He asked worriedly.

“No it’s not that, it really is lovely. I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re doing this for me. You’re a pureblood and I’m...I’m a mudblood.” I took a step away from him, letting go on my grasp on his hand.

“What does that have to do with anything? You know I’ve never cared about any of that.”

“You should be going out with someone like Ianthe, not someone like me. Most people when they see us must be thinking, ‘oh he must be mad going out with that.’”

“That what” he said before raising his voice to echo the question, “that what?”

“You know exactly what, Sirius. Everyone does.”

“What the fuck are you on about? What does everyone have to do with how I feel about you? You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t fancy. That’s mine and mine alone. Now are you going to stop being a git or what?”

“Stop calling me a git, you’re the git.” I said trying to shove him away but his hands grasped my wrists before I could make my move.

Before I could say another word he crashed his lips into mine. His hands now releasing his grip on my wrists and instead caressing my face. Sirius had kissed me many times before but never with such urgency, like his life depended on it. Like if he didn’t kiss me in this exact moment that he’d never get to again. My hands now pressed up against his chest pulling him in closer to me as I savored the taste of him until we were breathless.

“You’re the git.” I whispered as we pressed our foreheads together, he let out a small laugh at my comment before he spoke again.

“Those twats, they aren’t my family. You are.” His thumb caressing my cheek softly.

“Sirius, I just—“

“You are my family.” He said firmly cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.

“Okay, you say that now but I just hate the idea that you’re choosing me over them. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret your choice and start to resent me forever. I mean they’re your family, Sirius.” I rambled as doubt still riddled my brain.

“Y/N, listen to me, I will always choose you. I choose you today, tomorrow, and I’ll choose you forever for the rest of our lives. You are the only thing in this entire world I care about.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Yes, just maybe not to James, Remus, and Peter. I think they might burst into tears.” He let out loud laugh as he responded to my question.

“I won’t lie, I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Now can we please eat dinner, I paid off the house elves 10 galleons each just so that they would make your favorite!”



[bestloversfan]

Hi! I'm new to the Everlark fandom. Having only finished the books and the movies, I'm now working my way through all the meta I can find. And I love your blog, thank you for providing a thought provoking material.

There's one thing I'd like to read more about, and oddly enough, I haven't seen it covered much in the Everlark meta: Katniss' behaviour (attitude) towards the highjacked Peeta after he had been rescued and returned to her. Have you made analysis post about it, maybe? If so, would you please redirect me there? Or to any other posts you might know on the matter.

This part of the book and Katniss' attitude upset me so much, it felt like she failed Peeta. Failed to be there for him when he needed her the most, and only after Haymitch berated her, she felt ashamed. I was so sad that it took Haymitch to open her eyes, that she didn't find it in her on her own. I'm not saying she owed Peeta romantic affection, love or relationship, but I think she owed him human support and investment - and that she failed to give him. She chose to remove herself completely from the situation and fled. She only got back on track when Peeta started showing definite signs of getting better (after he arrived to the Capitol mission). At that point, I honestly wished for Peeta to heal but for Katniss to live him alone, once and for all. It devastated me so much, that I still cannot get over it. When they got back together in the Epilogue - it was logical and according to Katniss' nature, Gale was right (she needed Peeta to heal, she couldn't function without him, so she stayed with him) - but it felt like she didn't actively choose Peeta, but drifted towards him because he was there. It felt more like it was about what she could take from him than give him (because she loved him). And with the gap that the lack of her support for Peeta created when he was highjacked, this leaves me kind of bitter. I wish this thing was somehow addressed in the the book, but it never was. The films kind of played the whole thing down because in the film we didn't see Katniss' inner thoughts on the matter, which in the books were the worst part of it all.

Don't get me wrong, in the end it's good they grew back together and healed each other, I'm glad. I liked the epilogue, with all the hope it brings. They made each other happy. She made Peeta very happy, and it counts for something.

But my issues about the gap between the highjacked Peeta and the absent Katniss still stand.. And I haven't seen them addressed anywhere. Maybe there's another side to it which I overlook.

Maybe you or your followers don't mind elaborating or redirecting me to the existing discussions on the matter.

Sorry for the long rant and thanks a lot!❤️ I just can't stop thinking about THG and Everlark 😅

Hi! Welcome to THG/Everlark fandom! I'm glad you like my blog. 🥰

As for your question, yes, we've discussed this matter (the way Katniss treated Peeta when he was hijacked). Many times, to be more specific. I'll redirect you to some metas about this topic, but I want to talk about a few things beforehand:

First of all, I understand your upsetness at the way Katniss treated Peeta when he was hijacked. She really didn't treat him fairly, and it was a good thing Haymitch openned her eyes. But you're not considering one thing: She was suffering A LOT. What she did was selfish, but understandable. Can you imagine what it feels like to lose someone you love in the way Katniss lost Peeta? She never wanted to love anyone, because she was afraid of suffering. But she fell in love with Peeta anyway. And then he was ripped away from her, and brainwashed into believing he HATED her. It was so much for her to bear, and she was just a TEENAGER. Also, in the beginning, she couldn't do much to help him in his recovery, because he was a threat to her. He literally tried to kill her, and he couldn't even hear her name without freaking out. So, when we consider all of this, we can empathize with her and understand why she acted the way she did.

As for what you said about her choice for Peeta, I definitely don't agree with that. She didn't choose Peeta just because "she couldn't function without him". She chose him because she loved him, and had been loving him for awhile. What you said suggests she never felt anything for him and only chose him because she was emotionally dependent on him, and it's not true. She started loving him long before that. In Catching Fire, when she said she needed him and kissed him like she never did before, their relationship became 100% real. Nothing she did from that moment on was an act. If it weren't for the hijacking, they surely would have got together a lot sooner.

By the end of MJ, Katniss said she needed Peeta to survive, but it's not to be taken literally. What Suzanne Collins was trying to convey with that passage is that Katniss wasn't choosing only a partner, but also the future she wanted to have. She needed hope, and only Peeta could give her that. Gale couldn't. And yes, she made a choice. She didn't choose Peeta just because "he was there". She chose him because she loved him (don't forget she told him "real"), and needed him. And it would have happened anyway, as she said herself. She could have chosen to be alone (romantically) and to be only friends with Peeta, as they used to be before the Quarter Quell. She could have chosen to be with someone else. She could have chosen to try and approach Gale (she knew he was in d.2. She could have tried to contact him). But she didn't do any of these things. She CHOSE to be with Peeta. Despite all of her fears in regards to romantic relationships, she chose him. And this is one of the many evidences that she loved him. Also, the fact that she only talked about what Peeta could give her in that passage doesn't mean she wasn't willing to give him anything. Throughout the books, she helped him and saved his life so many times. And even when he was hijacked, at some point she recognized her mistake and started helping him in his recovery. She was a flawed person (who isn't?), but she cared deeply about him. And in the epilogue, Peeta said "we have each other", which suggests Katniss was there for him too (I'm pretty sure she was).

Well, this got longer than I intended to (haha!), but I hope I helped you understand these points. Now, as promised, here are the links to the metas:

Meta by @buttercupisbrainless: Link

Meta by @everlarkedalways: Link

Meta by me: Link

Meta by @safeinpeetasarms: Link

There are more metas about this topic, but these are the ones I could find right now. If anyone wants to add another meta, feel free to reblog this post with it. 😉

Thanks for your ask, anon! Feel free to send me an ask whenever you want to know my opinion on something. 😊

[buckyownsmylife]

Holy Ground - Final Chapter

The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he’s not ready to give up.

A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why wouldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than just once.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: This is it, everyone. Thanks for sticking out and reading this very angsty whirlwhind of a fic, I hope it was worth it. 

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Hi, someone called me and said I had to get to the hospital. Did something happen? Is my wife okay?” The woman behind the counter smiled patiently at me, but it was a trained smile. I didn’t have the time or the patience for that.

“Calm down, sir. Tell me your wife’s name and then I can direct you to the doctor or her room.” The scene reminded me too much of my first arrival, the one where I was certain I would be told I’d lost everything. It was impossible to stop the anxiety from rising, and I could feel it, climbing my throat and threatening to suffocate me, as I spilled my last name to her.

I tried not to lose it as she checked a few documents with all the calm in this world, like nothing of importance was happening, like my heart wasn’t beating out of control. After what felt like too long, she finally addressed me again.

“There’s no indication of Mrs. Barber’s doctor asking for you… And the nurse who’s taking care of her is on her day off.” I blinked a few times, trying to process her words and failing.

“What does that mean?” I hated the way she looked at me, with pity and understanding. I was tired of being seen like that, a broken man with a broken wife amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be my life.

“It means your wife isn’t going through any serious risk. I’ll try to get in touch with Nurse Jane and see what that call was about. In the meantime, would you like to see Mrs. Barber?” That was a difficult question. Of course I did want to see her, that wasn’t the hard part about it. The problem was… should I?

She never tried to reach out ever since I drove her back to this hospital that morning, almost a week ago. I managed to get some answers about how she was thanks to said Nurse Jane and her doctor, but I didn’t try to talk to her ever since.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, of course. The entire truth. I wanted to teach her about the beautiful love story she’d starred by my side, but most of all, I wanted her to believe in me.

And I didn’t think that was possible with the way things were left between us.

I’d barely slept ever since that morning. The good thing about giving her some distance was that I was able to spend some time with our son, something I’d failed to do ever since his birth.

It wasn’t his fault, but he was born from the same accident that almost took his mother’s life. I couldn’t look at him and not think of her. I couldn’t look at him and not remember how wrong everything was, and how much worse it could have been.

But now he was all I had. And I feared this was what my life would be like, if Y/N never decided to give me another chance. So I decided to face my own trauma instead of running from it.

Today was the first time since Y/N left that I had to call the nanny to take care of him again. I spent the last five days with him at all times, trying to learn how to be a parent, trying to feel close to someone I’d decided to shut off before even giving a chance.

He didn’t deserve this father who wasn’t there. That wasn’t the father I wanted to be, anyway. And so I focused on giving him all I had - all of my attention, all of my care, all of my love. I had nothing but time, and I had a lot of it to compensate for.

To be honest, the part of me that still believed Y/N would recover her memory kept reminding me that she would never forgive me for those months of parental bonding I missed. But it wasn’t my fault either.

It didn’t feel right to cherish our son when she wasn’t able to do the same.

“Mr. Barber?” The voice of the nurse from before broke me out of my thoughts, and I blinked a few times in an effort to fully concentrate in the present again. “Would you like to see her?”

Despite everything, I knew the answer I would give.

“Yes.” Of course. “Yes, I want to see her.”

I followed the dutiful nurse down the path I knew all too well, not having it in me to explain to her how her guidance wasn’t necessary. I roamed these halls every night in my sleep and every morning until she left my house. I feared their white apathy would be ingrained in my brain cells for the rest of my life.

“There you go. I’ll leave you two alone.” It was silent when I joined her in the room she’d been living in ever since she got out of the coma. And still, she didn’t seem to hear my arrival - not the door opening and closing behind her, not the sound of my steps resonating through the almost empty room. She looked hypnotized by nothing at all, hand absentmindedly playing with her necklace as she stared at the wall.

“Hey.”  The word startled her, and her head whipped around to look at me, her eyes wide, but with no trace of anger.

“Andy?” I couldn’t figure out why, but the way she said my name sent shivers down my spine. She’d said it before, ever since she woke up - countless times. She said it in bed that night, and it still didn’t seem this sweet.

Perhaps the absence had made me more appreciative of it.

“Yeah.” I was scared of moving any closer to her, or saying anything that might provoke her anger. I knew she had the time to think about what had happened, but I had no idea how she felt about it all now. 

“I don’t mean to impose, I just… Someone from the hospital called me, I thought maybe something had happened to you. I’m glad you’re alright.” She nodded, a small smile on her face as silence fell between us again.

I’d grown to loathe the absence of sound in the time after the accident. At first, it was from the need to hear the beeps that reminded me she was alive. Then it was for its power to feed into my deepest fears and anxieties, my desperate concern of possibly losing her. And now, it was from the expectation that suspicion had become reality - she really didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

“I can leave, if you want,” I offered, silently praying she wouldn’t take me up on it even as I waved towards the door. Much to my delight and surprise, her eyes widened and she reached out for my hand, as if stopping me from moving.

“No! No, don’t go.” And so we stood there, staring at each other, not knowing what to do until she asked, “Would you like to sit?”

I followed her to the small sofa in the room, still confused about what was happening. Each second that went by highlighted the differences in our situation, but I still couldn’t see it clearly. 

Just what was going on here?

She still held my hand as we sat next to each other, absentmindedly stroking it, her gaze on our laps. It felt just familiar enough to have hope rekindling inside my heart, burning bright inside of it to illuminate my entire being.

“Y/N…” I started, and when her eyes met mine, I unconsciously licked my lips in an effort to keep talking. “Were you the one who called for me?” In the time that she took to answer, the truth was already there, staring back at me. Her hands played with the necklace and when a smile began to form, I threw my arms around her, pulling her to my lap. 

“Oh my God.” She giggled against the crook of my neck, and it was like my heart stopped and I started living again, somehow. “It’s you,” I commented, cradling her face so I could look her in the eye. “It’s really you.”

My voice was so thick with emotion I could barely recognize it, but it didn’t take long until words were replaced by the language of desperate kisses, her hands fisting my shirt as I buried my fingers on her locks.

“What… How much do you remember?” I had to ask when I finally accepted that I needed to let us breathe, leaving her lips to rub our noses together delicately, our foreheadheads glued as I struggled not to lose control.

“There are still gaps,” she confessed, seemingly as unwilling to part from me as I was. “But I remember enough. I know you’re my husband and I know that was our son, and I want to go home, Andy. Please, take me home.”

And there it was, the feeling of wholeness, the lack of craving I never thought I’d have again. It was impossible to keep myself from crying then, but as my shirt became soaked, I knew I wasn’t the only one battling with emotions and dealing with them in the form of tears.

“Of course, darling. Let’s go home.” And running my hand over her cheek, brushing her tears away, I invited, “Let’s go meet our son.”

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-5: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it.  And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

"Oh? Come on then, I’m waiting.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

MC: Uh oh, now I can’t run.

I stood rooted to my spot, brain blanking out.

??: Why aren’t you saying anything? Am I that terrifying?

I resisted the urge to nod in the heat of the moment, knowing that it wouldn’t do me any good to provoke him now. I lightly shook my head in response.

MC: …I didn’t see anything earlier.

??: Then why are you trying to escape?

His voice was calm and composed, much unlike my shaky one.

However, that soon changed. His voice took on a commanding tone, frigid and icy.

??: Turn around. Let’s have a talk.

I recalled that in movies, no good ever came out of having seen the villain’s face. I shook my head once more.

??: Must I make you?

Following a chuckle, the hand removed itself from the door and hovered close to my face. His hand was so close that I could feel the chill radiating off his fingers.

There was a faintly discernible scent of black cedarwood handing in the air. My instincts screamed danger.

My heart jumped, for fear that he’d take things a step further. I abruptly whipped around to face him.

❖☆———————————★❖

A man was standing in front of me within arm’s reach, looking down at me with a playful expression on his face. His eyes were sharp, with something wild and dangerous flickering within its depths.

??: Now that’s more like it.

He backed away a little, using his other hand to dangle the earring before my eyes.

❖☆———————————★❖

??: Did you lose this?

I frantically shook my head like how one would shake a rattle. Suddenly, I realized that something wasn’t quite right here. Why did he ask me if I’d lost it?

Is he testing me?

I tried my hardest to remain calm, holding tightly onto the phone I’d hidden behind my back as I felt around for the emergency call button.

??: ……

Who would have thought that he’d actually lean down, clasping onto my hand with a start. He slightly raised his eyes, fixing me with a calm look.

??: And what do you think you’re doing?

MC: Nothing.

??: You suspect that I’m the one who stole it, yes?

MC: ……

??: Then how about you take a guess? What do you think will happen if you get in the way of my business?

I could tell that he was evidently trying to egg me on. I was already a nervous wreck from being completely seen through by him, and since he’d already caught me red-handed in the act, there wasn’t much sense in trying to hide it anymore.

MC: This earring was something an acquaintance of mine lost. My brooch has also gone missing.

MC: And I saw you in the corridor right before things started going missing!

The man raises his chin after a few seconds of silence, releasing his hold on me.

??: Give me your hand.

I didn’t know what he intended to do with it, but neither did I have the courage to ask, so all I could do was to stick a hand out just like he asked.

He placed the earrings onto my awaiting palm and jabbed his finger behind him.

??: Take that and follow me.

I held onto the ruby earrings, stunned. The thought of running away and making my escape flashed to the forefront of my mind when I saw that he’d already proceeded a couple of steps forward.

The man turned back to look at me coldly, as if he was issuing a silent order to follow.

With no other choice, all I could do was to hold tightly onto the earrings and follow him to the corner of the roof.

❖☆———————————★❖

There was a wooden box there, not the jewellery box or the apple box kind that were frequently used in the competition, but an old cube that had been hollowed out in the middle with a couple of scratches at the sides.

He pointed to the box, gesturing for me to look within.

Cautiously peeking into it, I saw a layer of hay spread out on the bottom of the box. It appears to be what looked like a bird’s nest, with two bluish-purple feathers nestled within.

And the centre of this “nest” was filled with earrings, hairpins, rings… Heck, these were all the accessories we lost!

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: What are they all doing here!?

I whipped around to look at him in shock, forgetting my fear.

??: The thief hid it here. I found it.

??: Weren’t you missing a brooch? Have fun looking.

Is he for real? Is he not making this up on the fly…? Does this mean that he's… really not the thief?

Almost as if he’d read my thoughts, the man shrugged his shoulders and stepped a couple of steps away, turning his gaze up towards the night sky. I remained wary as I bent down and sifted through the pile until I found my missing brooch. I gave it a thorough check.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Thank god. It’s still in one piece…

??: Found it?

MC: Yeah.

The man moved away from the wall he had been leaning on, straightening up as he headed towards me. The heavy clouds finally moved away, revealing the moonlight that filtered down, illuminating his features.

He wore a look of indifference, his lips pressed into a thin line. He even had a great well-defined jawline.

❖☆———————————★❖

Suddenly, a memory flashed across my mind— The contestant that stood atop the highest point of the podium took off his helmet, looking towards the crowd below the stage.

Something clicked as the figure in front of me started associating itself with the image that An'an had once showed me. I widened my eyes incredulously.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: No way! You're… Osborn!?

He stiffened for a while before his expression returned to his usual aloof one.

Osborn: You know of me? Looks like word of my name really travels.

…It’s really him!?

I only found myself puzzled even more despite having gotten undeniable affirmation from him. I just couldn’t connect the idea that the well-known racer was actually the same guy suspiciously sneaking about on the rooftop at night with our lost items.

A multitude of questions filled my mind.

MC: How did you find them here? Even the police couldn’t.

Osborn: Well, those two feathers there.

MC: This is…

Osborn: Feathers of a Purplite Bird. They like to gather shiny things and bring them back to their nest.

I suddenly recalled that I’d seen these exact same feathers inside my jewelry box. So… I was actually the one who’d misunderstood his intentions?

The realization hit me hard, followed by a bout of embarrassment. I wanted to say something to explain myself out of this awkward situation, but Osborn only smiled lightly at me.

The wind blew leisurely past the roof, bringing refreshing coolness along with it.

☆Light Choice: Trust him 

I decided to give him the benefit of doubt, trusting him since I'd already managed to ascertain his identity.

Besides, it was more important to focus on the contest given the current situation.

MC: Alright then. I'll believe you. Although... What are you doing here this late?

★Night Choice: Still feel a little skeptical

MC: But it’s so late now. What are you doing here? Besides, how did you know that we lost stuff?

Osborn: For someone so cowardly, you sure do have a load of questions.

Osborn: I’m no different from you. I’m still here because I’m looking for something I lost during rehearsals.

Osborn inclined his head, taking out a bracelet from his pocket.

It was a silver nameplate bracelet. Osborn held it up, lightly shaking it.

The nameplate had a two-headed snake motif on the front, with some English words and numbers engraved at the back.

❖☆———————————★❖

I couldn’t help but to feel as if something was off about it, but there was no real need for me to be delving deeper into it. It was more important to focus on the upcoming competition.

MC: So, what do we do about the rest of the stuff?

Osborn: I’ve already informed the police, so the rest of the missing items should be returned in due time after they’re done wrapping things up.

MC: Great. Then, seeing as how the issue has already been settled… I guess I’ll better be going now.

I nodded to him before making a speedy escape towards the exit. However, the weight nestled in my palm reminded me of something that I’d overlooked. After giving it some thought, I halted and turned back around.

Osborn: What now? Can’t bear to leave?

MC: I should put this brooch back. Else, the numbers won’t quite tally when the police do a count.

I placed the brooch back into the box and was just about to leave when my fingers accidentally brushed against the blueish-purple feathers. Suddenly, I was hit by an inexplicable wave of grief that filled my chest.

It was as if all my senses had suddenly dulled. All I heard was an odd, yet clear birdsong that made itself known to my ears, sad, forlorn, and speaking of immeasurable grief.

I hurriedly retracted my hand, suddenly feeling my senses revert to normal as I returned back to my body. Everything returned to normal, making what I’d just experienced seem naught but a brief trance of sorts.

MC: Do you hear something?

Osborn: Hear what?

He looked at me questioningly, seemingly not having heard the same thing I had.

MC: …Nothing. It must just be my imagination then.

I hesitantly made my way towards the door, mulling over the peculiar experience I just had while I opened the door. However, the door didn’t budge.

A chuckle sounded in my ears, carried along by the wind.

Osborn gave it a hard tug. It swung open with a loud clang.

It looks like the bolt had just gotten stuck.

Osborn: Looks like you’re not only lacking in the courage department, but strength as well.

Osborn: You’re welcome.

He looked me straight in the eye, a hint of a mirth flickering across his eyes.

MC: I’ve yet to even thank you…

Osborn: Oh? Come on then, I’m waiting.

MC: Thank. You. Very. Much.

I’d long since lost the fear I’d felt earlier. I met his gaze, biting out every word of thanks.

His attention had been starting to wander, his eyes moving elsewhere. However, he whipped back around upon hearing that, raising an eyebrow in question. I ignored him, dashing right downstairs.

It was only until the girl’s figure had disappeared down the stairs that Osborn shut the door to the roof.

A purple-coloured bird appeared under the covers of the night sky, letting out a shrill cry as it hovered mid-air.

It fluttered its wings, it’s entire body exuding inky black mist that seemed to devour everything in sight.

Osborn: Great to see you here. Now that spares me the trouble of having to go looking for you.

He raised a hand, deep blue flames erupting from his fingertips.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-3) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-7)

[miracul0us-multishipper]

“You”

A grin spread over Felix' face as he let the charade drop.

“Me.”

The black haired girl he now knew was Marinette rolled her eyes and turned back to her sketch book, a clear dismissal.

“You’re blocking the light. Go bother someone else.”

He sighed and brushed his hair back, decreasing the similarities to his cousin to the necessary minimum.

“Why would I? Everybody else is so boring.”

No one in this entire city had even realized he was back; not their classmates, not the teachers, not even the brunette fashion disaster that obviously had some experience with deception. Of course his little charade would have to end once Adrien had recovered from the cold that kept him at home, but until then Felix would have his fun. Yesterday he'd spend the entire day in the Bourgeois Spa, fooling the entire staff, the Mayor and his clingy brat. Despite the latter being Adriens “best friend”, not even she had realized who she was really inviting. Getting rid of her had been a little harder, but in the end he'd spent a wonderfully relaxing day in a steam bath and his skin was softer than ever. Courtesy of the ridiculously expensive mud bath he hadn’t had to pay a single penny for.

“Looks like you'd fit right in then.”, Marinette commented and drew an especially vigorous line in her book.

“Ouch. You wound me, darling!”

She shrugged and ignored him. Ignored him! That wouldn’t do.

With a last tug at his no longer messy strands he sat down next to her, leaning into her space as far as he could risk without getting slapped. His last few attempts had thought him that lesson.

“Oh, come on, Marinette, you must to tell me!”, he nagged her, happy when her face turned from concentration to annoyance. “What gave me away? Was it the wink? Or no, it was the greeting, wasn't it? Too much enthusiasm.”

“Why do you even care? You got all the others, didn’t you?”

He clicked his tongue.

“I have standards. If there's one person who can tell the difference, my performance is obviously lacking.”

She huffed and added a little bow to the skirt she was working on. Knee-length and plain colored, decorated with small ribbons. Classic and elegant, yet a touch of playfulness. He would have complimented it if he'd thought she might value his opinion.

“If it wasn’t my words or gestures, what was it?”, he asked on, not willing to give up and admit defeat. It was their little routine by now. He'd come up and try to pass as Adrien, she'd see through him and he would try to annoy her until she either gave him her full attention, or snarked him off. Marinette Dupain-Cheng – despite her cute appearance – could be mean, he'd learned.

“I don’t think I want to tell you.”, she shrugged, but he could see the beginning of a smile tugging at her lips. She'd deny it, but secretly she enjoyed their little battles of wits.

“What?”, he gasped and slumped against her in played shock, conveniently knocking the book out of her hands and onto the steps of the Trocadero. “But why?”

Now unable to draw on, she finally gave him her undivided focus.

“Because you, Monsieur Graham de Vanilly, are a major pain in my butt.”

“Oh? I would have thought you above such pettiness.”, he lamented. “To deny a fellow fashion enthusiast your criticism! To dishonor the sacred solidarity between artists! Truly a shame.”

“You? An artist?” She snickered. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Hey! Deception is as much of an art as these tiny scribbles of yours. And I am a master of my craft, thank you very much.”

She waved her hand and shooed him back a little.

“The questionable status of your craft aside, I'd hardly call you an expert. You were here for a day and already had the entire class plus three akumas after you. Your play didn’t even last an hour before it blew up in your face. Maybe you should ask Lila for a bit of advice! She's been here for months and is still on her unquestioned bullshit.”

He growled at that, drawing out another of these smug little smirks Marinette so rarely wore. After all his visits she knew how to rile him up.

“Do not compare me to that- that klutz! Anybody could spew some fancy tales and name drop, but that doesn’t mean she has skill. There's no finesse, no authenticity beneath that badly styled hair of her.”

“And there is beneath yours?”, Marinette said sweetly. He huffed and raised his chin.

“Of course there is. I don’t run around as Adrien for the fame, but for the fun of it. And I actually put in some effort. I was only found out because my goal required breaking character, and I still had a score to settle with my dear cousin. You think I only depend on my pretty face, because it looks conveniently close to Adrien? Wrong!”

His chest swoll a little as he spoke. With his accomplishments, he'd earned a little pride in himself.

“True, artful deception requires three things Lila Rossi couldn’t fake if her life depended on it: Discretion, Distraction and the right timing. She only ever barges in headfirst, unable to survive even a second outside of the spotlight.”

She hummed.

“My mistake. How could I ever assume you to be alike, since you obviously care so little about getting attention?”

Snarky little minx. Well, she wasn’t wrong, to be fair.

“Enough of that!”, he decided and eagerly turned back to her. “Now tell me what gave me away.”

“Let me see...”, she mused and pursed her lips. “I guess I could tell you that...”

“Yes?”

“...under certain circumstances...”

“Go on!”

“...it might be...”

“Might be?”

“The scent.”

He blinked. This had been his mistake? What kind of cologne did his cousin even wear?

“The... the scent.”

“Uh-huh.”

She moved to get back to her sketching, but he snatched the book before she could even touch it.

“Nah-ah! First you've got to expand on that. What perfume is he wearing?”

She shrugged and leaned back.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious? Adrien always wears “Manners and Class” N° 5. You on the other hand reek of “Wouldn’t know politeness if it hit me in the face”. A poor choice, really.”

She leaned in.

“You stink.”

It took a moment for her words to register, and he couldn't suppress a gasp when they did. With a satisfied smile she tugged her sketchbook out of his hands and crossed her legs, ready to put the finishing touch on her latest design. Felix fell back on the step next to her.

“That's it.”

“Yup.”

“You've won.”

“Fair and square.”

“I am defeated.”

“Annihilated. But to be fair, that opening was too easy.”

“Perfect set-up. Clean execution. Merciless punchline. You have earned your victory, so claim it properly.”

“I will.”

He fell silent after that, acknowledging his defeat. He lasted all but two minutes before his need for attention beat his shame.

“So? What do you want as your prize?”

“Peace and quiet?”, she proposed, gnawing at the end of her pencil.

He shook his head in disbelief.

“You're more ambitious than that, Dupain-Cheng. Here I am, Felix Graham du Vanilly, offering you everything I can give, and you settle for peace and quiet? Tsk, you can do better than that.”

“Maybe I could ask you to clear the area, while I’m already at it. For the entire week.”

He should leave. He wouldn’t get any real feedback out of her today, and now that he had offered her a prize she might develop some common sense and ask him for his connections, or some favors that could get her publicity. He was stretching his luck every time he decided to pester her again.

But he stayed. Whether it was his wounded pride, or his curiosity ever since she'd sent that little love declaration to his cousin... he couldn’t allow the only borderline interesting person in this city to dismiss him like that. Especially not when he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of her yet.

An idea popped into his mind and he spoke before he could think.

“You could ask me for a date.”

Now Marinette did put her book away.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She blinked.

“Did you miss the part where I asked you to leave me to my scribbles, as you put it? Because I am sure I mentioned it a few times, now.”

“No, doesn’t ring a bell.”

She groaned and closed her book. He counted that as a victory.

“Well, then maybe you remember the fact that I’m in love with Adrien. Which you already know, since you watched the video clearly addressed to him. And deleted said video. And replied very rudely.”

He hummed and stood up to circle her. An actor had to have a sense of drama, after all.

“The past is the past. And in the present, I look just like Adrien.”

Now he finally seemed to have broken through her cool facade.

“So what?”, she snapped at him, crossing her arms. “Do you think I like him for his looks? Am I that shallow, in your opinion?”

Of course she wasn’t. But he'd finally struck a nerve.

“You're not?”, he provoked slyly.

“No!”

She stomped her pink flats on the ground with more force than should be physically possible.

“I love him because he is kind. And thoughtful. And funny and confident and fair and so classy, and because he loves to make friends, and because he's loyal and caring and-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. He's your little fairy tale prince.”, he interrupted a little harsher than intended. Clearing his throat he continued. “And you'll be relieved to know that I don’t want to date you either. No offense to you, but I am above such mundane things as crushes.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back down.

“Of course you are.”

“Fact is, my dear Marinette,” he lectured smugly, “that you can’t even say two words to your loverboy without seemingly suffering a particularly unflattering stroke.”

“What a flowery statement, Sherlock.”

“Another fact is that you can talk very fluently to me. Far too fluently, in my opinion.”

Marinette's eyes narrowed with suspicion and he smiled.

“What's your point?”

“My point is,” he finished his circling and came to a stand right in front of her. “that you can use me to practice. Here, I'll even mess up my hair again!”

“Wait, I didn’t even agree to-“

“You're welcome. Aren’t I a dashing little dream prince?”

He posed in true Adrien fashion and Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Please, just don’t.”

“Pah! Ungrateful as always. Anyway, back to business!”

He spun into a dramatic pirouette and kneeled down before her, taking her hand between his.

“Marinette, my fairest!”, he proclaimed with vigor. “Is there something on that bright mind of yours you want to share with me, Adrien Agreste?”

She groaned again, but didn’t pull away.

“If you'll leave me alone after that...”

“I'll do anything my good friend asks of me! I am sunshine personified!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Close enough.”

He almost regretted looking for Marinette this late. The sun was about to set and most tourists had already left for locations with a better view. If there had been more, one might have captured a snap shot of Adrien Agreste kneeling in front of a random girl about to confess. His cousin would be delighted when he found out about his scandal in the news.

Alas, it was only the two of them who paid attention to each other. But Marinette was about to begin, so he didn’t ponder on the viewers anymore.

“I... I wanted to tell you that...”

He almost winced at that poor display of rhetorical talent, but she wasn’t done yet. Taking a deep breath, Marinette lifted her eyes off of her shoes and looked directly at him. And for a moment it felt as if she were looking into him. He'd seen these bluebell eyes roll in annoyance, glare in anger and sparkle with mirth, but never had he seen them this piercing, this all-consuming.

“Adrien, there's something I haven’t told you yet.”, she said, and it was as if he'd never heard her speak before. This wasn’t the voice that had teased and bantered with him, or the disinterested lull she mumbled in when she tried to ignore him. This was soft, yet firm and confident. Like tugging the strings of a violin: a clear, pleasant sound that offered a first hint of the potential in this slender instrument.

“I didn’t keep this from you because I don’t value our friendship.”, she said and her fingers tightened around his. Felix was suddenly sure that no expensive mudbath could ever make his skin as soft as hers. “It's the furthest thing from it. I didn’t tell you because I value our friendship so much. And I was scared to risk it.”

She took a step closer and he had to swallow.

“Adrien, you are the first person I think of when I wake up, and the only person I see in my dreams. Every morning, when I walk into class and see you, I feel like there's pure sunshine in my chest and springs under my feet. Like gravity is just a loose suggestion and I could float if I jumped. Like... like I could do anything I ever dreamed of.”

She looked down upon their hands. Disentangling their fingers surprised him, but even more surprising was that this time, she took his hands between hers.

“I know you feel trapped sometimes.”, she whispered and he found himself suddenly very insecure. Was she still acting? Was she this deep in their little charade? Or... or was she truly talking to him?

“I know you put up a smile and try to give everybody what they expect. And that you don’t have a lot of chances to just be you, not the heir of a great legacy. But I... I want to be your escape. Your safe haven. What I am trying to say is...”

She looked back up to him, and her smile was radiant.

“I love you.”

...

There was a tightness in his chest.

Because he wasn’t breathing, he realized.

Odd.

He didn’t have time to overthink this little detail, though. For as soon as he opened his mouth to say something – what, he didn’t know – she blinked and took a step back. The spell faded and his mouth fell shut again.

“So,” Marinette cleared her throat and looked away. “How... How was it?”

“Uh...”, he made, which was admittedly not the smartest reply he’d ever given her. The fact that he still hadn’t remembered to breathe in didn’t make things easier.

Marinette shifted her weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable.

“That bad?”

Ha.

Ha ha.

He shook his head and finally sucked in some much needed air.

“Good”, he croaked out, which was still not much of an improvement from his earlier statement of ‘uh’.

“It was... really good.”

Ah. The simple beauty of a full sentence.

“You think so?”, she asked, voice high with surprise. “It wasn’t... I don’t know, a little too much?”

“No!”, he answered a little too fast. “Uh, no. No, it was really... really good.”

Marinette's eyes went narrow.

“Are you making fun of me? Because I may be small, but if you did this to humiliate me then I swear to god, I will take this pencil and-“

“I was serious. What you said was beautiful.”

They both blinked at his words. He hadn’t meant to say that. This wasn’t how their interactions went. They were snarky. Mean. Teasing from time to time. But not... this. Never this open. Never vulnerable.

“Thank you.”, Marinette gave back, seemingly unsure herself. “I should... you know, it’s late and my parents are waiting.”

He nodded far too eagerly for his earlier efforts to make her stay.

“Yes, of course. I'll... No, you know the way better than me, probably.”

She laughed at that. It wasn’t a snicker, or one of her smug little huffs. It sounded... sweet.

“Yeah, no need to walk me home.”

She eyed him for a a moment, then the emptying place.

“I could walk you home, though. If you want to.”

Yes.

“No.”, he said and something in his chest roared in disappointment. “Thank you, but it would be quite the detour for you.”

She shrugged.

“Alright. Don’t get lost.”

Shouldering her bag she took her sketch book and moved to leave, but stopped mid movement to turn back around.

“Oh, and if you tell anybody – especially Adrien! – about any of this, you'll find out what I was going to do with that pencil! Got it?”

He rolled his eyes, finally in control of himself.

“Yes, oh great master of pencilmanship. Your weapon is as feared as its wielder.”

Satisfied she nodded and turned around, but stopped yet again. With a groan she dropped the bag, stepped in front of him and grabbed his collar. He'd never admit to anybody that the surprised squeal that followed had come from him. Utterly frozen in shock he could only watch as Marinette came closer and...

“There!”, she hummed and combed back his hair with her fingers. “I like you hair better this way.”

A small nod was all he could muster up, but it was enough for her. Waving him goodbye she turned around for good.

“Well then. See you around, Felix!”

He watched her leave, desperately trying to regain his voice.

“Y-Yeah. See you around, Marinette.”

Only when she had completely disappeared in the nearby metro station he allowed himself to sit down, wobbly knees no longer able to support him.

“What...”, he mumbled to himself, “...the entire fuck...”

What did just happen? Nothing made sense, not this stupid idea and certainly not his reaction to it. Sighing he leaned back against the steps and touched his hair. It was still a little messy, but laid back against his head in its usual fashion. If he concentrated he could almost feel the warmth of her fingers trapped between his strands.

He sighed deeply.

...damnit.

- - -

A little one shot because I hadn't written about canon!felix yet.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Normal ~ A.L.

A/n: Ah yes, this is going to be fun.

Request: “...Alec lightwood x male reader. Maybe the reader is mundane and shows Alec what it’s like being human for a day and then Alec shows him what it’s like being a shadow hunter. And maybe the whole time Alec is like o my word I love this kid...” by anon

Word Count: 5100+ (this is why it took me so long CHRIST I’m sorry)

MASTERLIST

You know, the thing that kept Mundanes seeing into the world of the Shadowhunters was a funny thing. It was supposed to always work, blocking humans from seeing monsters and those that hunted monsters. The problem was, nothing was perfect. Everyone made mistakes. Everything glitched from time to time.

I guess you could call Y/n a glitch.

The thing that kept humans from seeing things they shouldn't? It didn't work for Y/n.

When Y/n had first been seen facing down a vampire, it had seemed a little odd. The woman the vamp was going after seemed miffed that some dude was cutting in on her date, and everyone was confused. When they had killed the thing and Y/n had thanked them afterward, they'd all assumed he might have been like Clary - unaware of his Shadowhunter background somehow. But he had assured them he was human, and had proved it. Thankfully, since the plan had been to use a rune on him and if they had, he would have absolutely died.

Y/n was just immune to the magic that should have kept him far out of the knowing of what was really going on in the shadows of his town. Which left him unable to do anything, other than gather information and share it when he could. Y/n had no magic and no way to fight when he had no training or run protections, but he did have a talent for tricking monsters with their one weakness. He was human, and they were hungry.

Long story short: Y/n was really good at being bait, and he didn't mind it either.

Alec minded it a lot.

The two boys had gotten close pretty quickly. Alec refused to admit it, but Y/n was pretty charming. He had a nice smile and a contagious laugh, and a sort of lightness about him that was incredibly refreshing. It wasn't that he was untouched by darkness, or that he was fresh and innocent and waiting to be destroyed, like they all were before their line of living had ruined them. Y/n had been aware of monsters all his life, and being surrounded by people who could not see what he could see had landed him in either very near death situations, or mental hospitals a few times before he'd learned how to lie. He'd even been medicated really heavily a few times, but when that had done nothing, Y/n had come to terms that there was something going on that other people couldn't see. He had been in this business for a very long. No, Y/n was just the kind of person that refused to lose that inner child. He was soft and strong, and could make anyone smile and any situation bearable.

The way he made life so much more beautiful drew Alec in so aggressively, the Lightwood boy lost his breath every time.

Y/n was good at getting along with everyone else too. He wasn't good at much other than writing, leaving him to connect with Clary because of the similar vibes of their childhood, as well as their mutual passion for art. He and Simon bonded over poetry as well. Izzy enjoyed having someone who could keep up with her flirting, without it meaning anything or leading to something neither of them wanted. Even Jace was enjoying Y/n's presence when he proved that despite his lack of an ability to fight monsters and the such, Y/n WAS well trained in self defense. The two sparred while Y/n cracked jokes and made Jace laugh. Yeah, the blonde and brooding Jace was actually LAUGHING.

Having Y/n around was very refreshing.

So they all missed him a lot when he wasn't around.

Y/n attended college to chase am Arts History degree, and worked two jobs to keep himself afloat. The day Alec got permission to let Y/n move into the Institute was a great day for everyone. Now he was around a lot more- especially because now that he didn't have to pay rent, he could quit one of his jobs. In his free time, Y/n spent cleaning gear and learning how to hone his lame cooking skills. He wasn't great, but he was better than Izzy and was usually the only one with the energy to try it at the end of the day. When Hodge... went rogue, Y/n took charge of keeping up the Garden and learning all he could about how this world worked so he could take care of things and keep everything running smoothly. This left him spending most of his time in the library, reading up on history books.

One day though, Y/n needed Alec's help. Tensions between the two boys had risen almost to over spilling, but every time Y/n thought they were going somewhere, Alec stepped back. Y/n respected the boy's hesitance and never pushed, but the dragging was getting to everyone else. Izzy especially, who wanted the coolest mundane ever to get with her brother.

That wasn't why Y/n was bothering Alec now though. "Hey can I clean the glowing weapons things, or like... will those kill me?"

Alec couldn't help slip a small smile when he heard Y/n's voice. He turned around to see the boy coming in, a huge book in his hand but a confused look on his face. "Please tell me you're not talking about Seraph Blades."

"Those are the ones," Y/n confirmed without hesitation.

Alec shifted, raising an eyebrow. "They're just... fire."

"Well yes," Y/n drawled, rolling his eyes. "But the tubes. I mean, when they deactivate there's still something there, right? Doesn't that get covered in blood and stuff? Won't it getting all icky mess with the magic? And I've never seen any of them dirty. So do you guys have to clean them, or can I?"

That was very confusing to Alec. "Okay hold on. Have you never seen us kill a demon before?"

Y/n got rather sheepish then. "In my defense, I usually get in the way if I help, so I run unless there's someone in immediate danger. The last time, when I tried to help that girl, I almost got her, myself, AND Jace killed.

Alec flinched at the memory. "Jace is an idiot. Him jumping in when he did was his own fault."

"Wouldn't have been necessary if I wasn't provoking a damn vampire," Y/n mumbled.

"That girl probably would have died if you hadn't. We couldn't have attacked him with her there without chancing hurting her, or exposing ourselves. You saved her." Alec was ready to argue this, far too used to Jace's tendency to see the worst in himself despite the fact that he was actively a hero.

Y/n had to relent. "Fine, whatever. So, the blade?"

"Demons don't bleed," Alec explained. "They... well, it depends on the demons actually. Some turn to dust, or explode into fire. Some just kind of fade away. No need to clean blood off our weapons."

Y/n nodded, but obviously had a follow up question, so Alec waited for him to ask it. "Doesn't the dust get on your clothes? Does the fire ever burn you? Perhaps I should pick up some medical skills as well in case you guys come home hurt. Might make me more useful."

Alec rolled his eyes this time. "If you're seriously stuck on the idea of running this place instead of going out there and working in an art museum like you told Clary is your dream job, I won't stop you. That's not my decision to make." Y/n blushed, but Alec pretended not to see it. "However, if you're going to be one of us there are things you have to understand." He hesitated. "I want you to follow us around me around sometime. I can show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter. You can even come on a mission if you want, but I want you to stay FAR out of danger, do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Y/n was grinning, and between that and what he had said, Alec felt his chest heat up with a weird emotion he refused to address. "When do we start?"

A soft chuckle came from Alec then. "How about tomorrow? I'll wake you up bright and early, so be prepared."

Y/n nodded eagerly, already walking backward - presumably to return the book so he could head to bed. "Great! See you tomorrow, Alec!" He turned around and jogged away then.

Alec couldn't help himself but appreciate the view as Y/n retreated down the hall. He heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Clary, whose smirk was so wide it wiped the smile off of Alec's face. He turned away from her and moved toward his own room. What had he gotten himself into?

-

When Alec got to Y/n's room that morning, he was expecting to have to wake the other boy up. Unfortunately for him, when he opened the door, Y/n was already awake. And getting dressed. He wore the long, dark pants a lot of the guys around here wore when they weren't in Mundane clothes. He did not, however, have a shirt on. "Oh, good morning Alec," Y/n greeted brightly.

Alec almost exploded right there. Y/n wasn’t especially muscly, but he was rather lean. Y/n did a lot of walking, running, and casual work outs every once in a while before meeting the Shadowhunters. He knew self defense after all, and liked that the occasional work out filled him with energy after a while, even if it tired him out at first. Since joining the Institute though, Jace had enforced a daily workout. Some days Y/n got even more done when the two boys sparred, or when he had to move things around for research (those books were a lot heavier than they looked) or rearranged his room again because he liked to have a new layout every once in a while. Y/n had become the extra pair of hands everyone was excited to have. He was strong enough to spot for a lot of the other Shadowhunters even, leaving him in that comfortable middle between ripped and soft. He had angles and lines, but plenty of soft edges too. He looked like he could pick Alec up and then cuddle him just as easily. It was a body type that looked very good on the boy, and seeing him shirtless did things to Alec that should not have been being done.

It was then that Alec realized Y/n was talking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Y/n laughed, shaking his head in amusement. He put a shirt on, leaving Alec wondering if the boy knew what had left Alec so distracted. "I asked you what was first on the agenda today."

"Have you done your morning workout today yet?" Y/n shook his head. "Then that's where we'll start." And they did. Alec pushed himself further usual, and he knew he was doing it to show off to Y/n, but he also knew a little part of him wanted to outshine Y/n too. The boy kept up pretty well, and Alec didn't want to have a Mundane do better than him. After, they got breakfast, parted to shower, and then rejoined again to head to the sparring ring.

"You guys do a lot of training here," Y/n realized aloud.

Thankfully Alec had caught it, because he was super distracted by the way Y/n's wet hair shone under the lighting of the Institute, and the way it made his eyes look brighter. He didn't need to get caught for staring again. "Yeah. It takes up time, but it also keeps us ready for any surprise attacks, and prepared for nighttime hunts." Y/n nodded but didn't say anything else as they reached the rings. Alec grabbed two long staffs, passing one to Y/n as they stepped up to spar. Y/n knew what to do - he did it often with Jace. Alec was sure he'd claim victory over the Mundane.

Which left him rather speechless when Y/n pinned him. They were both out of breath and Y/n loomed over Alec, his feet planted and knees trapping Alec as the end of Y/n's staff rested threateningly against Alec's throat. "You're dead," Y/n joked.

Alec looked at Y/n with new eyes. What was with this guy? Why did Alec have to try so much harder to end up on top? Mundanes were like Clary and Simon, before they'd been trained. Alec could still remember how long both of them had lost time and time again to even the newest and youngest Shadowhunters. How could Y/n win against Alec? "How are you so good at fighting? I thought your thing was writing stories."

Y/n moved back, letting Alec go. He offered a hand and Alec took it. He was once again knocked breathless when Y/n hauled Alec to his feet without seeming to even struggle. "I'm stronger than I look. And... when I was younger, I didn't have shadowhunters and parabatai to have my back. I had to learn how to defend myself. Whether it was running from monsters, or making sure I didn't get pummeled by bigger kids who called me crazy and laughed at me because of the stories I supposedly made up..." He shrugged.

That didn't settle well in Alec's stomach. "I don't think any of us know what it's like to live like that. Clary doesn't remember, and the rest of us grew up with each other. I... I'm sorry, that's terrible."

There was a second when Alec saw the heaviness that Y/n hid so well in the boy's shoulders. Suddenly Alec was stunned by how someone so burdened by pain and sorrow could still radiate so much light and joy and comfort. How did Alec only now know that Y/n was capable of winning against even a well trained Shadowhunter, if he was really trying? Why was it such a shock that someone who grew up with deformed nightmares roaming around, would be able to kick some ass and defend himself? Alec realized then that Y/n made everyone feel safe. Y/n didn't seem able to hurt anyone, even if he wanted to. It made Y/n even more amazing that he was capable of defending someone if he had to, but chose not to in favor of making people feel safe around him. I dare say it made Alec feel even more safe.

Y/n sighed, and the moment passed. He was smiling again and Alec felt his heart swell with a feeling that terrified the dark haired boy. A feeling that also made him feel... really great too. "So what's next on the agenda, Lightwood?" "Jace will have our goal for tonight. Come on." Alec lead the way as they both headed to where Jace was. Alec explained the situation, and with Y/n's assurance he'd be plenty safe, Jace agreed. Y/n had been around a lot, and Alec was right - if he was up keeping the place, he had to know what being a Shadowhunter was actually like. After that had been settled, the trio headed to track down Izzy and Clary for the mission tonight.

"First thing first, Y/n's joining us tonight. He won't be getting involved, and will only be tagging along for educational purposes so he can know what he's dealing with as he gets more involved with how this place work, as well as the people in it," Jace began. Izzy and Clary both nodded, no arguments to be heard. "Okay, now down to business." Long story short, there were two demons who had teamed up and they had to kill it. Usual stuff.

Since when had demons and murder become Y/n's normal? Yikes.

The kill went rather smoothly, just like it was supposed to. It was a nice change from all the odd things that had been rocking everyone's world since Clary, Simon, and Y/n had joined the team. Very good for teaching as well. Y/n stayed back as promised, taking notes mentally and internalizing it. He thought about his thought earlier on how murder and demonic beings had at some point gone from nightmare to reality. Normal, even. For Shadowhunters, there was no shift. They grew up and lived a life where monsters were more than nightmare and you learned to kill from a young age. Perhaps it was fair, since they were bad guys surviving off of killing humans, but still. Alec knew how to kill Y/n. He probably could, if it was required or just if he wanted to. He could do it and he would get away with it too. Shadowhunters leave no trace and no Nephalim was going to care about Y/n being dead.

As the dark thought started to rise, Y/n pushed it down. As much as he seemed a bundle of effortless happiness and light, even he had his moments. He was just better at keeping them in check.

Everyone came home and got ready for bed as Y/n made food. He finished up before anyone came to eat so he killed time by making everyone's plate and putting them on the counter. When he was still alone, he sat on the counter and let himself get lost in thought. Just as he was, Clary popped into the room. "That smells amazing."

Y/n smiled. "I hope it tastes as good as it smells then." They both chuckled as Clary grabbed her plate and began to leave. "Going so soon?"

She nodded. "I have this... it's sort of um..." she seemed to be struggling. "Drawing. Can I show you later?" It was a habit she'd gotten from Y/n, losing her words when she was excited. She had been a little like that before being a Shadowhunter, when it came to art. Y/n fueled it again and set off her fire. She was more into art than ever and Y/n loved to see it, even if it meant one less person at the dinner table.

Y/n had been trying to have family dinners, but most of the time his efforts dissolved. Rarely did he get everyone. Usually he only managed to wrangle a few, and sometimes he ate alone. When a Clary left, it wasn't long before Simon and Izzy meandered in, lost in conversation about something. Y/n wasn't totally listening, as they were obviously midconversation and Y/n was lost as to what they‘d said up until now. They each grabbed a plate and headed out. Y/n sighed and watched them, but still said nothing.

Jace came next. "What did you think about the fight tonight?"

Y/n jumped and then chuckled. Jace gave a sort of guilty look. The blonde tended to hide his emotions, but when it came to Y/n he was always sorry to disturb the boy. Y/n had just seemed very pensive - nearly sad - and Jace hated the expression on Y/n's face. He was too used to the others who were trained to notice other people in the room even if they were quiet.

Quickly composing himself again, Y/n responded. "It was... cool, I guess. You guys are incredibly talented and there's something aesthetic about watching demons vaporize. It gave me a lot to think about."

"Like what?" Have asked, eyebrow cocked.

For a second Y/n hesitated but then Jace doned a prying look and Y/n was a terrible liar so he gave in. "You guys don't know what it's like to be human." Jace's expression darkened and Y/n flinched. "I mean, you have this angel blood that puts you above everyone else. You slay demons and purify the world and handle the boosting power of runes that any other creature would be destroyed by. You know what it's like to be angel. Except maybe the flying." The joke lifted Jace's mood a little. "But you don't know what it's like to... I mean, you're half human. But I can't imagine  any of you getting jobs or going to high school. Being vulnerable without the protection of your runes and the insane immunity they grant you. I mean- like earlier, I realized that Alec could one hundred percent kill me if he wanted to, and he would get away with it. No human would know, and no Nephilim would care so-"

"Clary, Izzy, and I would care." Jace seemed to have not meant to say it out loud. But he had and it stopped Y/n short.

He felt cared for and it made him uncomfortable. Jace could sense that. "Well that's... not the point." He blushed. "But thank you."

Jace nodded, then moved on to spare Y/n. The other boy obviously wasn't used to having people care about him. It made Jace remember that Y/n's life had been really hard. Y/n had spent almost all his life alone. Sometimes it was easy to forget with how kind and loving Y/n was. He was used to taking care of other people but being taken care of? Yikes. "Does it bother you?"

Y/n immediately shook his head. "Not at all. I don't feel in danger, at least. I trust all of you guys and know that none of you want to kill me. It does bother me though that you don't get to experience that normalcy. I mean does anyone here bake just for fun? Or have hobbies outside killing literal demons?" Jace went to speak but Y/n cut him off. "Clary doesn't count, she wasn't raised a Shadowhunter." Jace's mouth closed and Y/n sighed. "I just wish more... safe things for you guys. More fun and laughing and loving and less sneaking around in the shadows and killing. Thinking like that all the time... living a life where you only survive and hide and kill. I can't imagine it does good things for your mental health."

"I'm in perfect health," Jace reassured Y/n.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "No you're-" He stopped, shaking his head. He hesitated, perking up when an idea occurred to him. "What if I incorporated a little humanity into how we run things here? We can have like arts and crafts rooms and encourage people to utilize the library and the garden for things other than just necessities. I can enforce family dinners and we can congregate and have awkward family dinner discussions like normal people."

Jace smiled. "That sounds really nice actually."

That encouraged Y/n a lot. "Perfect, I'll start tomorrow."

"Start what?" Two sets of eyes turned to see Alec coming in the room. His eyes lingered on Jace, who seemed to be light on fire by the eye contact, as he was instantly on his feet, grabbing his plate, and heading out.

"Y/n can explain. He has a really great idea." He paused, smiling wider. "I'll see you at dinner tomorrow." Then he headed out, leaving behind a grinning Y/n. Alec snagged the last two plates, setting one by Y/n and the other on the counter next to him. He then pulled up a chair, turning it backward so the back of the chair was against his chest as he sat down, beginning to eat on the counter rather than the table to keep Y/n company. "What was that?"

Another idea hit Y/n then. "I'm going to bring some goddamn humanity to this Institute. You're all half human and you act like that's a bad thing or something! I'll start with a crafting room, and then using the garden and library for fun stuff instead of just what we need. We'll have a calendar with birthdays and celebrate each one with a proper little get together. AND, we're having family dinners from here on. Spread the word."

The authority in Y/n's tone took Alec off guard. "Will do." He found himself smiling a little. "I show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter and you took from it that we need to be more human?"

Y/n mulled that over for a second, rather than letting it go as the joke Alec had intended it to be. "I don't want to erase your angel half. I know what you do is important, and that you guys save people and stuff. But even though you do good things for others, none of you do anything for yourselves. Self care isn't just staying in shape and getting food and sleep and healing yourselves when you get hurt. Do you have any hobbies other than fighting, Alec?" The Lightwood boy considered before conceding that Y/n had a point. "You showed me how to be a Shadowhunter. Now let me show you what it's like to be human." Alec's smile grew. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Y/n agreed.

-

The day started the same, with Y/n respecting that Alec still had a routine and also that said routine was one some people carried as well. The waking up early and doing a morning workout, more than the killing demons and keeping vampires, werewolves, and fairies in check, but still.

Next, Y/n pulled him over to his laptop where he was going to online school. As Y/n worked, he answered questions about high school and even middle school. The more he talked the more Alec's face twisted in a bitter expression, like he'd bit into a lemon. Y/n busted up laughing when he got to math and Alec moved away from the screen as if it had offended him. "Not as glamorous as kicking ass and taking names and saving lives and shit, but it's cool. I guess."

Alec shook his head. "Is this... necessary?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Y/n snorted. "Do you use math like this? Ever?" Alec shook his head no. "And you're far more productive than most people who graduate college- and debt free!"

There was a moment where Alec seemed speechless. When he spoke again, it was slow. "This is kind of nice though. Easier to.. handle." He eyed the math page again. "No, I take that back. This is much scarier."

Y/n laughed at that. "Less deadly though. I get it." Alec smiled at him. It was so small it practically wasn't there, but it was, and it was sweet.

After a while, Y/n put his homework away. "That's not due for a while. Having to balance the human world and the shadow world was difficult at first so one night I pulled an all nighter and got weeks ahead on homework. My teachers were a little miffed since thy hadn't taught me the material yet, but easy ones like English were easy to swallow. Just, read a book and write an essay. You know?" Alec did nod knowingly at that. "My point is, we've had enough of this and don't have to finish it for tonight, so now is a good time for a break." He hummed to himself, thinking. "Do you guys have a TV here?" Alec rose his eyebrows. "That's what I thought. Come on we're going to go to my place."

So they did.

Alec had never been to Y/n's apartment before. Y/n had been clearing it out slowly, but there were still some thing here. Things that he couldn't take with him to the institute. Things like the fridge and the big furniture and, yes, the TV. It wasn't that he couldn't fit his bed and couches in the Institute, it was just that it would make it official if he did, and things still seemed to be up in the air for him.

"It's nice." It was perfectly clean and bright. The curtains were drawn to let the sun in and the walls were painted a light baby blue. The whole place made Alec relax his body. He sat on the very comfy couch and practically melted. There was just a sort of ambiance here that gave Alec the impression nothing bad could ever happen here. Which went against logic and reason and experience and training... but I guess that programming wasn't enough to fight the way the couch dipping with Y/n's weight, next to Alec, felt like... safety personified.

The two watched a few movies Alec had never seen or even heard of. Halfway through the Lion King, Alec felt his body lean into Y/n's. Without missing a beat Y/n shifted his arm so Alec could lean into in more, even rest his head on the other man's chest. Every time Y/n moved or laughed or spoke Alec didn't just hear it. He felt it. It was amazing.

All too soon, the sun was down and it was nighttime. "Do you want to watch another one, or should you be heading to bed soon?"

Surprise overtook Alec when he realized what time it was. His body was completely undone and his heart rate had evened out. He'd never been this calm in his life. "I'm surprised Jace hasn't come hunting me down."

That made Y/n smile. "I told him the plan for today. Told him that I was commandeering you and if he showed up to steal you tonight I'd kick his ass personally. I may be a Mundane but that won't stop me from finding a way to knock the blonde out of his hair." A jerking laugh bubbled from Alec then at the mental image of Y/n doing such a thing. "Yeah," Y/n agreed, chuckling along. "Took some convincing to get them to all take the night off. Jace argued, but as much as saving people is important, taking care of yourselves is just as important. And after you showed me what you guys do every single day... Holy shit."

Weird feelings began to twist in Alec's stomach. He could lie very well, about a lot of things. He could lie so convincingly that Jace would back off, and Izzy would let it go. He could lie to his mother to meet her ever demanding expectations. Unfortunately, he could only lie to himself for so long until his realist side kicked in and demanded him to accept what was.

He was in love with Y/n.

Well, shit.

"What are you thinking about over there?"

Alec felt his stomach flip. Double shit.

"Just... uh." He flinched at his sudden awkwardness. Y/n frowned, noticing it since they were so close. "I just want to thank you. The way you've thrown yourself into our lives and way of living and have done your best to keep everything going and then improve upon it? It's amazing. You work really hard to make life better for us."

Y/n swallowed, his face relaxed but his eyes intense. There was something in those eyes that was begging to be seen and known, but Alec was too scared to acknowledge it. What if Y/n could see through him and wanted to just be friends? What if Y/n was trying to be polite? But if that was the case, wouldn't he have pushed Alec away? Why was he pulling him closer?

Then they were kissing and it was all because of Y/n and Alec didn't have any doubts anymore.

When they parted again, Alec's mind was racing and Y/n's voice was soft. "I'll always be here Alec. All I want to do is make your life better and easier and more pleasant. You deserve it."

This time Alec kissed Y/n, and it lasted much longer and was much more intense. When they parted for the second time, Alec whispered, "Will you move in for real? I want you around all the time. I want you close and safe and I don't want you to go anywhere else. I don't want you to have to."

Y/n smiled. "Anything for you."

-

Male reader tags: @sheepfather​

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Has everything changed? (Part two)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Klaw Craig)

Word count: ~2.5k

Category: Angst but in the end... you’ll see it 😉

A.N: This is the second and the last part for this fic. Thank you so much for taking your time reading these bullshits of mine❤️ and then for everyone waiting OH AU 1 the next fic is called “Friendship questioned”. Hope you enjoy this!

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

————————————————

She wanted now to escape from this building as if that kind of air was blocking her lungs. A cup of lemon tea would somehow release the tension in her shoulders.

At Derry Roasters everyone were talking about the same topic with new faces appeared in front of her. Interns chatting excitedly about their first day and cursing their attendees for the anxious hours they spent until now.

She let a smirk to herself remembering the first day when she was an intern. A rebel one and didn’t even have to spare a glance to the man whom she hated the most. She was so clueless about him that only knew his name but not his face.

You can say she was the only intern who got the attention of Dr. Ramsey after a decade and no one could replace her.

The interns eyed her incredulously as if they were seeing a miracle whispering to each other.

“It’s her!”

“Shush dude she doesn’t like gossiping.”

“She’s so fucking gorgeous!”

“Damn lucky whoever is with her!”

“It’s Dr. Ramsey.”

“Really?”

“They’re such a power couple!”

“Hm. I wonder if they’ll invite us to their weeding.”

“Matt shut up or she’s going to hear us and I don’t want to have any bones broken!”

“Fine fine.”

She took a seat at the corner of the bar facing the window in her left.

This was their place.

The place where they felt themselves and out of the real world.

He would be opposite her smiling and telling his stories as a troublemaker teenager or how his father would always get angry after another defeat in the chess game.

Or how he would touch and kiss her hand bringing closer to him.

Or how she would scold him to not do anything publicly and he still didn’t give a damn what the others would say.

She really wanted to relive these moments so much but her logical side told her he was wrong and he had to apologise.

Whereas the feeling side... told her to go and kiss him and tell him that it was just a temporary weakness and that she loves him.

While she was sipping her tea relishing a sigh a soft voice distracted her.

“So British of you.”

She chuckled while placing the tea to the plate. “You’re not British if you don’t drink a cup of tea.”

“I highly agree with that. And you’re not American if you don’t drink an espresso.”

Both women shared a laugh when Harper Emery took a seat opposite her.

“Soo... how’s the first day going?”

“Really Harper? Just say what you want. I know this look of yours.” She knew what she came for and didn’t want to skip it like nothing had happened. Even though she sounded harsh Harper only let a gentle smile.

“Fine I just wanted to ease this conversation a bit but it looks like I have a long talk with you little miss.”

“If he has sent you here don’t even try.” She said nonchalantly bringing back the tea to her lips.

“Correction: he didn’t and I don’t think he would.”

He wouldn’t? Of course what did you expect.

“I came here because I wanted to talk with you Klaw. As friends.”

“What makes you think you can change?”

Mini Ethan. Stay strong Harper.

“Well let’s just say that I have this instinct of mine that what I want to achieve- it will be achieved. I know it’s sounds cliche but I’ve never failed in this path.”

“Keep going then.”

“Look Klaw... I think the real problem is not you or him. It’s you both against the problem.” She eyed her curiously.

“The problem is Leland and it’s dragging you both into a black hole till you fall and no one’s going to help you. What you need to understand is that Bloom is trying to provoke us and to see who’s going to be on his side. What Ethan agreed wasn’t because he is on Bloom’s side. He agreed because-“

“That was the only way he said.” Klaw replied in frustration while reminiscing his court voice on her mind.

“Tone, please?” Harper arched an eyebrow.

Gosh they’re both the same.

“Sorry.” She murmured while her gaze was falling on her nails ripping the cuticles.

“As I was saying he only agreed because he knew that even he would do the contrary, Bloom wouldn’t listen to him anyway without asking us because this is his character and is unpredictable. Ethan is taking this calmly but do not forget- he will always be on your side. Yes he’s really mad with you because of your lack of control against your emotions and of not showing professionalism. But he is wrong too for treating you as someone foreign and not considering as your colleague and not rethinking that not always you will agree in everything.”

Harper was thinking if this could work for both of them because she wanted to help as much as she could and also couldn’t see them separated from each other.

“Or if I make it simple- just fucking go and get him already!”

“I don’t think that would be simple. He said if I don’t get my shit back then there’s no way I could step in the team.”

“And you think with such a weak and useless threat of him you’re not going to talk about this? Bullshit. This is the perfect moment to say the apology because if not- you’re going to be very late and you’ll lose him.”

“But this is not actually what hurt him.” Harper frowned in confusion while Klaw’s eyes started to well up.

“I offended him Harper. I said that... that he doesn’t care about me even though I know he cares! He does...a lot but... I’ve really messed this thing up and I’m worried about facing him.” She gulped while putting her palms behind her neck. “I can’t do this. How am I supposed to look him in the eye Harper? I know he is right now really tired of this behaviour of mine and has tried his best to push me and to seal this bad sided woman you’re talking to! Ethan has been a careful, supportive and kind to me in many ways that I can’t explain. Whereas I...” she let a scoff. “I’ve been nothing but only bragging about everything and not be the best girlfriend he wants.”

Harper Emery was lucky to know someone as Klaudia Craig because not only she had been a great shoulder to lean on for everyone but also has been a great person to her.

She would always be in a debt for making Aurora speak and standing up for herself in her intern year and to show what a mistake she did by underrating her niece for her achievements.

And here she was now- confessing her feelings such beautifully for a man whom she loves most and if she was in her place... No.

It was clearly that this woman was the only spark who could give light in Ethan’s darkness and the contrary.

They were both meant for each other.

“Then all of these things you said to me-“ She leaned her palm giving hers a gentle squeeze. “- you should say to him. Whatever happens. I think he will listen to you.”

“You think so?”

“Hey. I’m a neurosurgeon and this the dumbest question ever raised by you Dr. Craig.”

Klaw let a weary chuckle. “Okay. Let’s see if the grumpy man wants to talk with the grumpy woman.”

“That’s my girl.”

—————————

Her steps lead her to the Diagnositics Office and far from the corner she could see there was no one inside. So the only place he could be was...

Hospital’s gym.

She could hear some hard breathing and panting while kickboxing in a big arena. He was wearing his loosely T-shirt and his sport’s boxers that fit perfectly his shape of the body.

Every movement he did and his focused gaze to the training made her head tilt in a wander that how was possible this man could be such sexy.

And how she was so lucky that he was hers.

Or that’s what she thought.

“Ethan!” She called behind him but it seemed he didn’t hear her as he was having his headphones on clearly listening to his rap music. She tried again. “Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

No answer again. “Is he fucking kidding me or what? I’ll show him.”

She entered the ring arena rapidly and when she was just about to call him again unexpectedly was twirled in his arms, her back facing chest. She gasped and felt her breath hitched. What now?

“Well look who made it here.”

“I...”

“What the hell do you want Rookie?” He growled on her left ear.

Her lips trembled despite her efforts to not cry in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

He sensed her change of tone and turned her back to face him.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I know that I’m really such a bad bitch when it comes to these situations but I want you to know that I love you and I don’t want us to have these debates ever again because I know that always screw the things up... I ALWAYS RUIN IT!” Her last words flinched him when she punched his shoulder in anger and couldn’t see her in this broken state.

“No. I ruined it.” He admitted. “I know I shouldn’t even think about what you considered Harper at first because I know you weren’t jealous about her and still I thought it-” he let a weary chuckle “-and you never fail to be right about that. And I know I shouldn’t treat you as someone who wasn’t part of the team and I’m sorry if I made you doubt about yourself.”

He pulled her closer giving her the kiss she deserved but she backed off saying. “No more fights?”

He gave her the brightest smile. “No more.” She smiled too and felt his soul completely in peace. “Now Miss Craig-” he held his right hand to her. “-would you like to be my companion for tonight’s gala?”

She giggled and cleared her throat. “How can I refuse it Mister Ramsey?”

————————————���——-

After two hours at Ethan’s apartment.

“I seriously can’t believe we’re going to that fucking party.” She was strapping her high heels frustratingly then got up while Ethan was doing his buttons of his sleeves looking at the mirror.

“Relax Rookie. Just put a fake smile and chat about medicine as doctors usually do.”

She scoffed while reaching to do his tie. “How can you be such calm? I expected you to be furious just like me.”

“Well unlike you ma’am I have a master’s degree that I’ve held for eleven years for being talkative, social and well respected diagnostician.” He let a smirk when she quirked her left eyebrow.

“I totally agree with the last one but I highly doubt about the first two y’know.”

He pressed her body closely to him, his eyes looking intensely into her dark brown. “And may I know why you’re doubting Dr. Craig?”

Instead of making it as a casual chat she turned it to something else. “About everything.” He got the message when she lowered her gaze playing mindlessly with the buttons of his lapel jacket. “I mean- what’s going to happen later Ethan? Some things have changed and we already are aware of it but...” She pressed her lips.

“But?”

“For how long? What if Bloom will try his tactics again to track another doctor and if there’s going to be someone else- who knows? I’m scared Ethan. What if this is the end of all of us? What if we lose our jobs for nonsense reasons?”

“I know. I’m worried about it too and I have absolutely no idea where this is going to take us. But one thing’s for sure.”

She let his hands cup her cheeks meeting with his face.

“No one...not even Bloom can tell us to back off from what is right. We will continue our mission, Naveen’s mission and we will always do it for the sake of the Oath. Don’t lose the confidence you have and all your thoughts even when they’re wrong. I’ve told you since the first day of your residency last year. It is not wrong to ask questions ‘cause if you didn’t well I would be very concerned. I know you say that you trust yourself but I don’t agree with it. So please... don’t overthink it. Let’s just enjoy this night while we can hm?”

His voice was so assuring and there was nothing else she wanted to hear.

The one she fell so hard capturing her in an inevitable trap.

His presence made her entirely safe whenever he gave a smile just like now with his eyes reflecting on hers like a magnet.

She wanted to stay there forever.

In his arms.

In his heart.

He seemed to notice it and kissed her forehead while she was closing her eyes.

“You always calm me down. How the hell you do this Rams’?”

“You’re not the only one with skills here lil girl.” She scrunched her nose when he tipped with his index finger. “Now I think we should leave before we are too late.”

“Actually...” She bit the corner of her lip. “Can we please not go? I don’t want to see that big rat blooming all the way up.” She pleaded while shrugging her right shoulder crossing her arms on her back.

“Klaw you can’t be serious.” When he saw her expression he scoffed before pointing his finger. “You’re too late to anything else because we’re dressed now for that occasion. Many doctors will be there and then is goin-.”

She grabbed instantly the back of his neck silencing him with a kiss. “Will you repeat that again doctor?”

“Not now Klaw-”

She kissed him again pinning him to the wall then whispering in a sultry voice.

“Wrong answer doctor. I’ll propose this- we’ll get the best scotch from Reggie and then buy some Calzones while we are enjoying the starry night that only the Boston’s sky can give us. Completely alone. Just the two of us. So...what do you say? I think it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.” She winked.

He sighed while looking up in the ceiling as if searching for help in his defeat. She loved making him at this state.

At her command.

“How the hell do you convince me Craig?”

“Well you’re not the only one with skills here old man.” She squeezed his cheeks while he was frowning. “Aww you’re so cute and you look like a fish doing ‘o’!”

He spoke or better tried to mumble the words. “I’m mnot olf man and I’m mnot ffsh!”

“Yeah yeah that’s why you can’t use the Instagram correctly.” She giggled when couldn’t contain her laughter anymore then took his hand leading them to the door. “Now shall we go because I’m really starving and we won’t make it home earlier.”

“True. We won’t make it home until the morning.”

He gave her a known devilish grin while he was unlocking the door that made her eyes go wide, her heartbeats accelerate and gulped hardly.

He winked.

Damn it.

This was going to be a very long night ahead of them.

—————————————————

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (3)

      jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: some mild angst

words: 4.4k

        chapter three

A few more days passed before Jungkook was discharged from the hospital and returned to class. Although, to be honest, you probably wouldn’t have even realized that he was back – hell, you didn’t even know that you shared any classes on Wednesdays until today – if it weren’t for the excited shrieks that erupted all throughout the auditorium when the door opened minutes before class was supposed to start.

Confused and slightly alarmed, you turned to look as well, and saw Jungkook enter the room, smiling as soon as groups of concerned students poured towards him to express their worries. These were the same people that ran away from the party as soon as his accident happened, and then didn’t bother to check on him when he was at the hospital.

Disgusted, you turned away but not before noticing how much Jungkook seemed to enjoy the attention, even if it wasn’t genuine.

Perhaps you’d been wrong about his reasons for talking you at his party last week – he didn’t seem to be bored of constantly being in the spotlight. He cherished in it and, clearly, being loved and, well, worshiped was his preferred form of entertainment.

You sighed, your prediction coming true: the vulnerable Jungkook you’d seen at the hospital was now light-years away. He was back to his old unrecognizable self and the conversation you’d had last Saturday was probably erased from his mind already, including all the advice you’d given to him about his family.

However, when, despite yourself, you turned to glance at him again, he surprised you by catching your eyes. Not having expected him to notice you – because why would he need your pity when he had so many others, ready coo at him until he was sick of it – you looked away again. But Jungkook had seen the warning in your eyes and he remembered all that had happened in the hospital.

“Excuse me,” he found himself saying as he tried to walk past the small crowd that had gathered to greet him. Adamant to truly get his life together just like his father wanted, he took a seat in the middle row – just like you did – but across the room from you.

You felt him look at you from all the way over there – or maybe he was just looking in your general direction – but you didn’t meet his eyes again, focusing instead on the projector that the professor was struggling to turn on at the front of the room. Thankfully, within the next few moments, everyone that was so excited about Jungkook coming back, relocated to the area next to him and, soon enough, you couldn’t even see him in the crowd of students anymore.

The attendance was exceptional that day and even the professor took notice of that – choosing not to mention the fact that everyone had clustered to the left half of the auditorium for some odd reason – but the rest of the class carried on as usual. That is, until Jungkook felt his determination begin to fade.

It was hard to remain focused on being an exemplary student when so many people wanted to talk to him and make him laugh, and, before long, Jungkook gave in. Who was he to deprive the others of the joy of being noticed by him, right?

It was normal that the part of the room, where the majority of the people were, was going to be the loudest and yet, up until Jungkook joined in on the conversation his peers were having, the entire auditorium seemed to be fairly quiet. Now, however, sounds of laughter and obnoxious snickering started to overshadow whatever the professor was trying to say.

You rolled your eyes every time a soft chuckle from Jungkook forced the laughter to ripple through the crowd of students – they were blindly following whatever he was doing and he loved it.

If this was what he did with his time in class, then it didn’t really matter that he was here. Once again, it was just an act he put up for himself – and his parents – while, really, he was probably making plans to party later this same day.

You learned that your observation was completely on point as soon as the class ended and you gathered your things. Walking past Jungkook and his entourage, you overheard them tell him about a “small gathering” they were having tonight. Glancing over to check his reaction, you saw him nod and tell them he’ll try to come, like a true crowd-pleaser. Shaking your head, you turned away.

“Hey!” you heard suddenly and stopped in surprise, not really sure if it was you that was being addressed. But Jungkook had noticed you exiting the auditorium and was now making his way towards you.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly when he reached you. “You’re back.”

“I am,” he nodded and then hesitated, not having prepared his next words, “I, uh, I wanted to thank you for the chocolates you’d brought. They saved my life.”

“Oh,” you obviously hadn’t expected him to bring your hospital visit up ever again. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

Jungkook smiled and, because neither of you had anything else to say, you gave him a weak nod, took a step out of the auditorium, and continued to walk down the hall, unaware that he was following right after you. But then he spoke again.

“Hey, so, you have Accounting tomorrow at nine, right?” he asked and, once again, surprised you by knowing your schedule.

“I do, yes,” you gave him a look. “Why?”

“Well, I heard that the professor’s a bit of a dick,” he said with a chuckle as the two of you walked down the hall towards the exit of the building, “and, apparently, he likes to throw in these surprise pop-quizzes in class sometimes, no?”

“Sure.”

“How hard are they?” he asked then. “Would you say that I’d pass them with ease if I read his slides before class or would I need to, you know, put some actual work into it?”

You stopped walking and raised your eyebrows. “Did you ever show up at his class this semester?”

“Uh,” Jungkook scratched his neck with a nervous chuckle, “yeah, I was at the introductory one. But, uh, after that, not really. No.”

“Then reading his slides should be enough,” you said, “since you’re probably going to fail the class anyway.”

You started to walk again but Jungkook – surprised by the ease in your voice as you said this – lingered behind and ended up having to jog to catch up with you.

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean? Why?” he asked.

“Well, if you fail his pop-quiz, he marks you as absent,” you explained, “and you didn’t even show up to class once anyway, so you don’t—”

“Yeah, but I mean—c-could you help me out here?” he grabbed your arm, stopping you as he found your tempo too difficult to keep up with. Perhaps you had unintentionally sped up in your attempt to exit the building quicker, so you could avoid people turning to watch the two of you.

“Help you out?” you asked with a sigh, trying to look at him and not at the group of girls that had been following you ever since you and Jungkook left the auditorium together. He was bound to get distracted by them sooner or later, though, and you hoped you could finally escape from their judgmental gazes then. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he said, not even noticing anyone else in the room. “Maybe send me some material I could read over the weekend?”

“Over the weekend?” you repeated. “His class is tomorrow.”

“No, yeah, I know, but I have plans tonight, and—”

“So, you’ll be skipping again?”

He took note of the disappointment in your voice and forgot the very plausible explanation for his lack of attendance that he’d come up with.

“I-I guess, yeah,” he said. “It’s just that some of my friends are getting together tonight, and I don’t want to miss that.”

“Right,” you nodded, sounding far more condemning than you’d meant to. “You’re choosing a party over your studies.”

“I’m—” Jungkook started to say but your words sounded so much like his father’s that he had to take a step back and reconsider, his hands naturally clenching into fists. “That’s not what I’m doing. I haven’t seen my friends since last Friday and I—”

“You haven’t seen them because they didn’t care about you enough to visit you at the hospital,” you said, the cold, hard truth spilling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You shouldn’t sabotage yourself by skipping class for someone who doesn’t even—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he cut you off suddenly, his voice severe. Within seconds, he seemed to have gone a few shades paler, and his voice a few octaves deeper.

“You asked for my help,” you pointed out as calmly as you could under his burning gaze.

“Yeah! For school, not for my life!” he argued and even this fight reminded you of the old him – throwing a tantrum as soon as he didn’t get something he wanted – except this time the two of you were in a public space, surrounded by too many curious eyes to count. “I didn’t ask for your opinion about what I’m doing tonight.”

“I don’t care what you’re doing!” you defended yourself. “I just thought you wanted to get your life together and partying the night before a 9 AM class doesn’t seem like a—”

“I am getting my life together,” he snarled, not letting you finish, “but it’s not your business how I choose to do it.”

His aggressive stance reminded you of what Yoongi had said that night at the party – Jungkook was getting into fights so often, his own band members were starting to give up on him – and you took a second to calm yourself before you spoke again. There was no point to provoke him and have him walk around, punching people.

“Okay,” you said then but your calmness only seemed to aggravate Jungkook even more. “I was just trying to help you with your fam—”

“Why?” he demanded. “Why do you care? What’s in it for you?”

The venom in his words stabbed at your chest and you couldn’t conceal your wounded expression. Swallowing thickly, you tightened your lips as you looked for the right words.

“We were friends once upon a time,” you said. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you but it matters to me.”

Only sparing him one more second of your time – all because his gaze was that difficult to escape even when it was burning with irrational rage – you turned towards the door and finally left the building, exhaling as soon as you felt the sunshine on your skin.

He didn’t follow after you this time. Good.

The past five minutes had exhausted you much more than the whole hour and a half of class, so you needed extra time to recuperate when you got back to your dorm room. Normally, you’d grab a bite to eat and then prepare for tomorrow’s class but now, every time you considered picking your books up, you remembered the argument with Jungkook.

You couldn’t stay focused even after you had some food, so you texted your roommate and joined her at the campus café where she was pretending to be productive.

Almost as soon as you arrived, Inna wanted to know why your face was “all scrunched up” but you assured her that it was nothing, not wanting to recall the details of your and Jungkook’s unsuccessful attempt at bonding again.

Instead, you listened to her tell you about an event that seemed to be exactly the party Jungkook was planning on attending tonight.

“It’s at Brock’s house,” she said and didn’t bother to elaborate who this Brock person was. “He has a house right off campus and—”

“Aren’t his parents bothered that he’s throwing a party on a weekday?” you wondered.

“His parent—no, that’s his house,” Inna clarified, “he lives there alone.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Another rich kid?”

“Guess so, yeah,” she shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, so he’s been talking about how he has a booze supplier – a cousin that works for Hennessy or something – and the others have been pressuring him into throwing a party for the longest time, but he kept saying no.”

“Why?” you asked even though you didn’t really care and found the reflection of you and your friend in the window of the café so much more interesting.

“Because the only optimal time for a party is on a Friday night,” Inna said, sounding very much like an expert on campus social life, “and everyone knows that Friday nights are for Parental Advisory gigs and their after-parties. But then Jungkook had an accident, and—”

“Wait,” now this got you curious, “so he’s using Jungkook’s accident to throw a party on a Friday night?”

“Well, not anymore. He was going to use it,” she said, “but then Jungkook was discharged earlier than he expected, so he had to move the party from Friday to tonight.”

“That’s… wow,” you leaned back in your chair, not having considered that some of Jungkook’s friends saw his accident as nothing else but an opportunity to take his place. “I really underestimated the lengths some people are willing to go in order to establish their social lives.”

“Yeah, so this party’s kind of a big deal,” Inna continued, “because now Brock has to live up to the hype.”

“And the party’s on a Wednesday night,” you added. “Making it seem worth it can’t be easy.”

“It wouldn’t be,” she agreed, “but, apparently, Brock convinced Jungkook to come.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think it took a lot of convincing. I saw how easily he agreed to come in class today.”

“Wait, Jungkook?” Inna was the one who was surprised now. “He actually showed up to class?”

“I know, right?” you nodded, having been surprised by this, too. “But that must have been a one-time-thing. Like his mind blacked-out from the accident or something. He’ll be back to his old self in no time.”

“Hmm,” she considered this and took a sip of her caramel drink. “So, what actually happened that night at the party? You never told me.”

“What do you mean?” you picked up your own drink from the table and stirred it with a straw all so you wouldn’t have to look at your friend. “I told you he crashed his car and then I called an ambulance, and—”

“No, but I mean before that,” Inna said. “How did he even get into the car if he was drunk?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He was angry.”

It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about that part of the night – or else you’d have told Inna everything already – because a part of you felt guilty for not having stopped him. There was no one else to do it at the time – Yoongi had already left and the guy Jungkook was fighting with couldn’t have cared less – so you felt partially responsible for not doing enough to prevent him from getting into the car, even though, objectively, you knew there was nothing you could have done.

“Someone said he was in a fight with someone,” Inna  mentioned, not thinking much of it. She just wanted to understand what had gone down.

“He was,” you nodded slowly. “That’s why I went outside. But I don’t know why they were fighting or anything. They were already past using words by the time I got there.”

“Yeah, this girl told me that it’s pretty easy to irritate Jungkook,” she said. “He doesn’t have a lot of patience, does he?”

“No,” you confirmed. “He never did.”

“Did he get into fights when he was younger?” she asked. “I mean, when you knew him?”

Sitting up properly, you looked around. You’d never felt too comfortable discussing your friendship with Jungkook in great detail – let alone doing it in such a public place where anyone could have been listening – and perhaps that was because, in a way, you felt like you’d gotten dumped when he decided that you should stop being friends. No one wanted to talk about this type of things.

“Uh, no,” you said then. “His family, uh—they had a tight grip on him.”

“Huh, I guess that changed when he moved away for college,” Inna mused.

You looked down, remembering that Jungkook moved away two years before finishing school. You wondered if that was when things really changed. Maybe no longer having his father’s watchful eye on him at all times loosened him in the worst possible way. You were afraid to try to guess the number of fights he must have gotten into since junior year of high school.

“You know, another thing I learned at the party last week,” your roommate continued after you didn’t reply, “is that, apparently, Jungkook getting into fights has become sort of a running joke in their inner circle.”

You raised your eyes to meet hers. “I’ve never heard anyone joke about it before. I didn’t even know that he—”

“Yeah, I said inner circle,” Inna repeated. “Apparently, it’s a common occurrence at the Parental Advisory parties and yet, most of us who aren’t that close to the members, are usually left in the dark about it. But every time someone walks around the campus with a black eye the next day, people start talking. Wondering. And the only people who know what really happens at those parties are the people who see it happen. That’s why the Parental Advisory groupies always seem so… well, so above us. Above everyone else. They joke that it’s  because of Jungkook. They’re supposed to be covering for him but, by being secretive, they end up attracting even more attention to themselves.”

“Huh. And this attention is exactly what they want, isn’t it?,” you theorized, not having guessed that Jungkook’s so-called friends were that fake. “They must love all the rumors that surround those parties.”

“Of course they do,” she agreed. “It proves that they’re the crème de la crème of our campus.”

You considered this for a while. “Do you think that, uh, Brock is counting on Jungkook to start a fight at his party tonight?”

“Oh,” Inna took a sip of her drink as she thought about it. “That would make sense. It would stir some shit up and it’d definitely help Brock prove to everyone that his parties are worth waiting for.”

You didn’t want to think of what Brock might do in order to prove his worth to everyone else but you couldn’t help but worry about Jungkook since he was, clearly, very easily manipulated. Then again, his brutal “what’s in it for you?” when he spoke to you last, may have hinted at his suspicions about people using him for their own benefit.

All of your worrying was suddenly replaced by this last memory. You weren’t obligated to save Jungkook every time you learned that he was putting himself in danger and he made that very clear. It was none of your business.

“Whatever,” you said with a dismissive sigh. “I don’t really care about the campus parties thrown by kids who paid their way into the university.”

“So, you do care about the Parental Advisory parties then?” Inna asked and she was smirking because she obviously thought she’d found a loophole in your statement.

Granted, you weren’t sure that the members of the band all got into university because of their rich parents. All you knew was that Jungkook – even though he did come from a rich background – got wait-listed at first and only got in because someone else dropped out, which meant that his parents had little do to with his enrollment.

“Why?” you asked. “Don’t tell me those guys have actual heads with brains on their shoulders.”

“Don’t be so judgmental, you know nothing about them,” Inna told you in a good-natured manner and she was right. You were certainly prejudiced but, in your defense, there wasn’t a single instance that could have proven to you that the members of Parental Advisory weren’t brainless dumbasses. “I’ve heard that Hoseok is actually at the top of his class. He might be graduating cum laude.”

You weren’t expecting that and, for a moment, even found that hard to believe but, really, what use did an alt-rock band have of rumors about how good at studying their members were? So, this must have been true.

“Okay, my bad,” you admitted. “I misjudged them. Jungkook might be a huge idiot but I know he’s got brains. It’d make sense for the other members to be smart, too, I guess.”

“You can be smart and still have fun,” she said with a teasing smirk, “that’s something I’ve been trying to teach you ever since we started college.”

“Not very successfully, apparently,” you retorted and she laughed.

“I’ve tried my best,” she said and, unknowingly quoting the words Jungkook had told you repeatedly when you were growing up, added, “It’s not my fault you’re so stubborn.”

Inna and you hung out at the café for a couple of hours before splitting up – she headed home to finally stop chit-chatting and get some actual work done, and you went to the library to study for tomorrow. According to your mental plan, you were supposed to start studying at least an hour earlier, so you were anxious the entire walk there, feeling like you were already behind on everything.

You spent a few extra hours at the library because studying was something you were used to, something you were good at. And with all the unusual situations you’ve gotten into this past week, it felt good to fall back into the familiar routine.

Because of that, you only got back to the dorm when it was already dark outside – which was annoying since the lights in the hallway of your floor weren’t working and you always struggled to unlock the faulty door of your room in the dark.

This time, however, just as you pulled the keys out of your pocket, your phone rang. Surprised by the vibration in your pocket, you almost dropped your books and, with a groan, finally managed to fit the key into the lock, so you could get your phone out.

You didn’t recognize the number on your screen, so you chose to enter your dorm first, before answering.

“Hello?” you spoke warily. 9 PM was still fairly early but it was late enough to get alarmed when strange, unknown numbers called you.

“Hey,” a voice said. “It’s me.”

That was obviously a very poor introduction but, to be quite honest, you found that you didn’t really need one. Despite not knowing the number, you recognized the owner of the voice right away.

“Jungkook,” you said as you placed your books on the side-table by the door and entered the room where Inna was lounging on her bed. “How did you get my number?”

“I asked your roommate,” Jungkook explained slowly. He had expected you to ask why he called, not how.

“Ah,” you glared at Inna who – figuring out that Jungkook had just outed her – shrugged and got off her bed to head into the bathroom and give you more privacy.

“Don’t worry, she didn’t do it willingly,” Jungkook added quickly, “I had to harass her for fifteen minutes.”

You doubted that Inna would have seen that as harassment but you appreciated her loyalty nonetheless.

“I’m not sure I’m worth that effort,” you said, not meaning to make it sound like you didn’t want to talk to him but Jungkook still came to that conclusion.

“I, uh, sorry if I—well, I’m sorry it wasn’t you I asked for your number,” he said. “I was going to but…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence because there was only one chance for him to ask for your number today and the memory of how that encounter ended was still fresh in both of your memories.

“Anyway,” he continued after you didn’t find what to say quickly enough, “I just called to apologize about today. I acted like a real asshole.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips – it wasn’t often that he admitted to being in the wrong – as you sat down on your bed.

“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate that. Sorry if it was something I said that—”

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong,” he said. “It was all me. You were right about everything.”

“Still. I wasn’t very nice about it.”

“Yeah, well, neither are the people who pretend to be my friends,” he said and you didn’t really know how to reply to that. Thankfully, Jungkook wasn’t done just yet. “In any case, I ambushed you after class and then I didn’t listen to you. Sorry I never seem to do that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should have said what you were about to say but, because of all those years that you’d been friends, you plowed ahead, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize to me.”

Much to your surprise, Jungkook laughed.

“As I was dialing your number, I just knew you were going to say this exact thing,” he revealed and you laughed, too. “Guess I still know you pretty well then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you were now full-on grinning – thank God Inna wasn’t here to see it or she would have never let you live it down, let alone forget that she was the one who gave him your number. “Oh, but why are you calling me now? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

“I, uh–I’m actually home,” he admitted, “studying for tomorrow’s class.”

You fooled yourself into thinking you could ignore the clenching of your stomach when you talked to him at the hospital. But now you really couldn’t deny it – the twisting and churning of your insides was definitely caused by the butterflies, roaming free all over your body. 

You didn’t want to sound patronizing by telling Jungkook that this was precisely what you told him he should have done so, still smiling to yourself, you gave him an encouraging, “that’s good.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice far more self-assured now than it’d been when he first called you.

“Yeah,” you echoed and the conversation settled into a silence that – contrary to what one might expect from two people who fell out of touch with each other – was comfortable and, just like your routine of studying, familiar.

keep reading | masterlist

[aperrywilliams]

Letters to me (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Summary: What happens when Reader received some love letters?

Word Count: 7436

Rating: All Audiences. I would say “Fluff” enough.

Warnings: Some curses, that’s all.

A/N: Anderson deserved better :)

——————–

If I said my life is boring working at the BAU I would be outright lying. What more exciting than chasing serial killers across the country? For real, I’ve seen many horrendous things thanks to this work, but good overcomes the bad one and at the end of the day you realize something good you are doing in this world and it gives a different taste in life.

Even though much of the time is about work, there are things even more important in this place: my friends whom are my family too. When I joined the team 5 years ago I couldn't be more grateful to the people who received me with open arms. In those years Hotch was the unit’s chief. With his always appropriate posture he was warm enough to make you feel welcome immediately. As well as JJ, García, Morgan, Rossi and the good Dr. Reid. All of them had known each other for many years, so I was the “new” one and, therefore, the team's reason for concern from then on. Despite my 27 years old they felt urge to take care of me like a little girl. It didn't bother me much, I knew it was genuine concern, but sometimes it was frustrating. I must admit it. Perhaps the only one who understood how I felt was Spencer. Sure, for many years he was the BAU's baby. Until I arrived, in fact. When we talked about it, he told me several times I was destined to be the protégé until someone new and younger arrived, he even joked about felt somewhat displaced since I came to the team.

Thanks to hours we spent working late, traveling on the jet and the hallway conversations I came to love them all as if they were my own family. I cried a lot when Hotch left the BAU, as well as when Morgan made the decision to leave as well. Of course we all understood. But feeling that nothing is forever began to provoke anxiety. It made me wonder where I really wanted to lead my life. I never doubted about  my job, of course not, but I did doubt about my personal life. I needed more things in my life and I felt like I suspended this needs because I believed the BAU was everything for me.

One day in lunch time, I told Spencer about my fears. I wasn't expecting to be very exhaustive and I wasn't expecting very elaborate advice, maybe some statistics on how people change as they get older, but just that.

“It is very common for people turned 30 to feel doubts about the decisions they make in life. There are studies that point out people who have stressful jobs delay these questions for a couple of years due to daily pressure, but it happens anyway. Even so, this type of situation is much more common in women than in men, given their state of reproductive maturity…”. This was the analysis Spencer shared with me after telling her how I felt.

"Spencer, my problem is not my reproductive maturity, if it's what you are suggesting...". I said laughing and trying to relieve the atmosphere I had caused with my questions.

"No. I didn't say that. I only said the 30-year crisis could be more acute in women given their hormonal status… ” he replied very seriously.

"So is it true I'm in the 30-year crisis?... Hell, it wasn't what I wanted to hear, but you may be right. Did this happen to you when you turned 30?" I asked to him.

"Ehhh, yeah. I think so. Back then my conflict was about the things I had accomplished at time. It is true, I had many doubts too, so I think the theory of 30s crisis is correct” he confessed.

I like talking to Spencer. Over the years we managed to establish a very close friendship. Perhaps because we are the closest in age within the team. I don't know. And even though sometimes his impulse to have data for everything despair me, his genuine concern for those around him make Spencer adorable and an impossible not to love. What I like the most is over time he also trusted me enough to speak open about himself. Sure, it doesn't something he do spontaneously, but whenever I asked him how he is or how he feel, he answers with complete sincerity. Spencer even listen to my advices and take it seriously, which I don't even do with myself, I must confess.

"And what is exactly disturbs you? What your doubts are about?" Spencer asked me. The truth I didn’t expect to development more this subject, so his question took me by surprise.

"Ehh... well, what I was saying. I don't know if I'm doing things right... or if I should make changes in my life...". Sure, but I had already said that and it was nothing specific. He knew it.

"Ok, but… what do you think you need to change (Y/N)? What do you think is missing in your life?" he asked without losing sight of my gaze. I knew the answer. But at that point I felt a little vulnerable and I didn't know if I was willing to be more detailed on the subject. And of course, it's not I didn't trust him, it's just this topic was more uncomfortable to talk about during lunch time. But… it was Spencer, my friend. Why not trust him?

"Ok. Truthfully?... Although it sounds strange, I feel I lack emotion. I mean, it's exciting to go after serial killers and all that stuff. But it’s my job. In other aspects, I feel my life is quite 'simple'…”. Spencer studied my body language closely and tried to assimilate my words. I tried to help him by digging deeper into my thoughts. “For example, my love life. It is quite simple. I've had some relationships, but I can't say I've ever fallen in love and felt reciprocated in a special way. In other hand, I know men are simple, no offence, but I’d like to find someone who is really interested in me. I don't know, having romance, something exciting, something different from the relationships I've had before…”. Spencer looked at me weirdly.

"Like… in the movies…? I didn’t think you are the type of women who like romantics fantasies..." he told me with curious eyes even after my explanation.

"No, it's not I like romantics fantasies per se... but... I don't know. It's just sometimes I don't feel wanted, do you get it? And I don't speak about sexual side. I'm talking about love, feelings, whatever that means after all…”. Spencer nodded as if he understood what I was talking about. Frankly, I don't know if he understood, but I was already feeling uncomfortable talking about this, so I didn't want to continue my explanation. I decided the topic ended there and started talking about something else for the rest of the lunch.

The weeks passed and due to the amount of cases we had, I suspended my questions and doubts for a while. We just returned from Alabama. It's was already night and I just wanted to go to my place and sleep. I was exhausted. We got to the 6th floor to collect our things. At that time there was no one left in the BAU. Just dragging my feet I managed to get to my desk site.

When I looked over my desk I saw something different: there was an envelope with my name in handwritten. I took it and opened it. Inside was a piece of paper, also handwritten, with meticulous calligraphy. That is the first thing surprised me, because I never was able to write like this. I didn't be able to do it even in school.

"Dear (Y/N). After all these years, I finally gathered the courage to send you this letter. I must first apologize myself for this boldness of mine. I do not mean to bother you but I can’t just not express how I feel about you. It’s impossible for me not to put into words what my heart is feeling at the moment. The first time I saw you, I felt like I was out of breath. Your natural beauty stunned me from the first day. Look at you walking by hallways of the FBI makes my heart pounds faster and I think every day I fall more in love with you. Yours. Anon"

My first thought was this was a joke. I gazed everywhere and only saw my colleagues with whom I had just arrived from Alabama . No one was looking at me. I felt my cheeks redden and there was nothing I could do about it. A secret admirer in the FBI?... a secret lover? I scrutinized the envelope again for any indication of the sender. Nothing. I had been working here for 5 years and something like this had never happened to me. I was speechless and didn't know what to think either. I wanted to stick with the idea it was a prank. But who would want to do me something like that? Spencer noticed my shock and asked me what was going on. I was not able to tell him what I had just seen and read. I just said "Nothing, I'm fine. Just a bad joke. Good night Spencer”. I took my belongings and left the BAU towards my apartment. That night I fell asleep thinking it must be a joke and I would have to find out who is ruthless enough to do something like this.

When I got to work the next day I immediately glanced my desk. Everything was as I left the night before. I tried to relax and even dismissed my initial idea of chasing after the person responsible for the prank of day before. I went to take my usual morning coffee and started working. It was not until after we returned from lunch when I looking over my desk and saw another envelope with my name written on it. My heart stopped and I think I stopped breathing too. Emily and JJ noticed my stupor because they immediately asked me if I was okay. I just nodded and took the envelope opening it and taking out its contents: again, a piece of paper written with perfect calligraphy.

"Dear (Y/N). I dare to send you a new letter. You should know every day passes I fall more in love with you. It's only fair I declare this because my heart would explode if I couldn't. Oddly enough, looking into your eyes I feel as I can see your soul, your beautiful soul. The one that deserves to be loved utterly, the one that deserves to be treated with all the veneration and grace in the world . If I had the courage to approach you and if you let me love you, believe me I would never could let you down. Yours. Anon"

"What the fuck ...?". It was the only thing I could say as Emily took the piece of paper in my hand and began to read it. Then she passed it to JJ to do the same. Both of them didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but when they saw my daze they chose to debrief me.

"Since when do you have a secret lover in the FBI?" J.J. asked.

"Not just any secret lover, is a lover who ‘can see her soul through her eyes’" Prentiss teased looking at J.J.

"It must be someone's prank...". I tried to reason with them.

"Why a joke? It is perfectly possible you have captivated the heart of an agent on these sides..." argued J.J.

“But in these 5 years , nothing like this has ever happened to me!” I said with stupor.

"There is always a first time..." Emily said with a shrug.

"It must be someone new..." J.J. reflected

"I don't think so, the first letter makes me think it has been here for a while...". I said as I took the first letter out of my purse and handed it to them to read.

"Years... eh?... this is new. I think someone is burning inside of love for you (Y/N)”. Emily said laughing.

For the rest of afternoon I couldn't focus on any of my tasks. All the time I was thinking about the possible men who could have written these letters. Maybe letters was not too sophisticated but to think someone from the bureau was in love with me, and for so long, did nothing but widen my heart... and my ego, by the way. I was pondering on that when Spencer peeked around my desk.

“You cannot tell me nothing is wrong with you, because you have hardly worked today (Y/N). You've been contemplating the nothingness for hours”. Again Spencer took me by surprise.

"It's just... I’m... I don't know how to say it… I’m surprised?". And without saying anything else, I handed him the two letters I received. He quickly read them and frowned.

"What really mean this about ‘looking into your eyes I feel as I can see your soul'? That is physically impossible..." he stated in a seriously tone.

"Spencer, it's a metaphor. You are a genius, I think you know what a metaphor is…”. I said with a bit of annoyance. Of course, Spencer wasn't seeing the same as I in the letters.

"Ok. Metaphor or not... it doesn't seem very sophisticated to me". Yes, he had a point. These aren't great love letters, but for me the effort could balance the lack poetry talent of my secret lover.

"Ok. Maybe he isn’t a poet after all, but I think I like it..." I said a little embarrassed to admit I was flattered. Spencer smiled.

"Maybe you really have more action in your life after all..." he told me, giving me the letters before he returned to his desk.

Two days later I got another letter. This time I saw it over the desk just arriving to the office in the morning. After grabbing my morning coffee I proceeded to read it.

"Dear (Y/N). When I saw you yesterday I felt like talking to you, but I didn't dare. I have to admit that I am too shy to approach you. I always have been, but when I fall in love is when my shyness plays against me the most. Maybe I shouldn't tell you these things, but I also want you to know me more, even if it's through these letters. In the depths of my heart I have the hope that perhaps one day we could be together, and one day I could kiss those beautiful lips. Did I say to kiss?. And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.' A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: 'Forever'. Yours. Anon".

Dammit! The bastard just quoted one of my favorite plays? Shit!. Maybe he isn’t illiterate after all. Another thing I noticed: in this letter he dared to reveal a little more about himself. Something I could not see in the previous two. Would this be more than platonic?. Throughout the day, as I walked through the corridors of the FBI, I couldn't stop looking at all the men I came across. Some of them didn't even look at me while others looked at me and some even smiled at me. I hadn't realized how many people I passed through the corridors of the FBI on a daily basis. "You work doing profiles, how can you not make a profile of your secret lover?". I told myself. Well, this was already an intellectual challenge, but I needed help. That afternoon, as we were in the jet on the way to a case in Houston, I approached Emily and J.J. showing them the third letter and asking them to help me discover who it was. They were more fascinated with the challenge than I was.

With the little evidence we had, all we could say he is an agent, who works for the FBI since at least a few years, probably suffered more than one love sorrows, and this is the first time he dared to do anything like write a love letter. And of course, he knew one of my favorite plays was Cyrano of Bergerac, or at least he suspected it. So it had to be someone I talked to more than once or knew something about my life and my past. It couldn't be someone I only crossed in the hallways. His calligraphy indicated dedication, organization and emotions contained.

"I think this profile outlines 50% of the bureau officers, except for the calligraphy and the play (Y/N) likes..." Prentiss said huffing.

"Ok. And in this 50%, how many of them have spoken with (Y/N) in these years enough to know things about her? Assuming he is not someone who takes risks…” added JJ. I just shrugged and started making a list of agents I remembered having spoken more than one word in these years and who were still on the bureau. I was surprised myself how friendly am I. The list was not short.

I kept receiving letters from my secret lover. In all of them he let a little piece of his heart escape, not only screaming his love for me, but his doubts about himself. That broke my heart. Was he so afraid to talk to me? Days later I received the last letter.

"Dear (Y/N). You may have noticed my early letters were more fearful. I was afraid you would be intimidated by my boldness. Now I feel a little more confident about you at least read my letters and motivates me to write more. I never thought I was going to confess my love to a woman in this way. And it's not I have fallen in love many times before in my life. To be honest, I think very few times indeed, and to be honest, never with someone like you. You’re a very special woman (Y/N). When you started at the BAU you immediately radiated all your energy to those around you. Always gentle, with a smile on your lips. Willing to help and do your job in the best way possible. You are so understanding, you care about the rest and this quality makes any man can fall madly in love with you, like me now. Always yours. Anon"

Wait… what?!, have I known this man for 5 years? I mean, he was here when I started working in the BAU. This fact shortened my initial list a lot. I told Emily and J.J. about my new findings.

"So... who is on this short list?" Emily asked.

"Well... according to my evaluation this leaves us: Stevens, Rogers, Martinez and Anderson". I said, going through my list. And I wasn't considering just the singles mans.

"I don't think be Stevens, he's a narcissist. He's not the type to send letters. He would just come up to you and to invite you out…”. Emily said, dismissing the first suspect.

"Rogers is a shy guy. But I think hopefully he read an entire book in his life. He is more RPGs type and that kind of nerdy stuff. The writing style doesn't reveal that kind of man…” said J.J. , rejecting the second suspect.

“Martinez is recently married. I know it doesn't mean anything, but according to they said around here, he was dating his girlfriend for four years until she said yes to the question, so it would be premature to think he is thinking in another woman…”. With this statement Emily dismissed the third suspect.

"And Anderson... well, Anderson got divorced a year ago. We never knew very well what happened. I once heard Morgan to say he married her because she was his high school girlfriend, but he was never very in love with her…”. J.J. explained.

“He is a very sweet man, without a doubt. Is shy. I always see him with books walking for the hallways, it seems he likes to read… it could be someone who can write letters…”. Emily indicated.

"Maybe love letters... yes... it is possible" added J.J. Both looked at each other as if they had discovered the Holy Grail. "It's Anderson!" they exclaimed at the same time.

"Fuck..." was the only thing I could say, also noticing and reviewing all my interactions with Anderson in the past years.

It’s true what Emily and J.J. said, Anderson is a very sweet man. Always considerate, giving you a smile. Very shy, no doubt, but sweetly shy. Of course he wasn't my type. I had never seen Anderson with different eyes. And to be honest, I had rarely seen other agents with different eyes. Of course, my job is more important. I tried to go over things I've talked to him in the past, and of course, except for some social meetings in Rossi’s house, our interactions had been quite limited. But it was a fact we saw each other regularly on the BAU. And surely he had found out things about me. It had to be him.

I didn't know much what to do with this information. Well, if it was him, what I’m going to do now? Confront the poor man? I wouldn't dare. Besides, what I could to tell him? I couldn't be in love with him, however to much romantic his letters were. My heart has already an owner even if I wanted to deny it to myself. And although many times I shouted to the four winds I was looking for the love of my life, the truth is I had already found it. The problem is this love would never be corresponded. Of course, the good Dr. Reid was just my friend and I chose this before doing a stupidity and showing other feelings towards him and ruining our friendship. I was pondering about this while we were on our way to the jet for another case out of town. The same voice Spencer pulled me from my thoughts.

"Still thinking about your secret lover?" he asked sarcastically. I didn't like his tone, especially after what I was reflecting.

"Yeah. And so what if it were?". I replied abruptly.

"Nothing. It's okay. You don't have to be mad at me” he said, noticing my defensive tone.

“You men are incredible. To be honest. How a man can be so blind, so clumsy, so shy when he shouldn't and so bold when nobody asks to. A real disaster!”. I exclaimed with my arms up.

"Hey, I didn't do anything to you...". Spencer protested. I just shook my head and kept walking towards the jet.

"Well, at least now I know who is he". I mumbled dryly before boarding the jet without waiting for any response, not even hoping Spencer had heard what I said.

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

Was it true what she said before boarding the jet? Did she know who was sending her the letters? Is the reason why she was mad at me? But how can I be so stupid?, how I didn’t think she might find out at the end? Sure, I could defend myself, saying it was a joke. But it was it? I mean, at first, when the idea appeared to me it was just because I wanted to cheer her up a bit. (Y/N) looked so confused and sad. I never liked seeing her like that. Of course, my genius neurons sometimes doesn’t work in the way I would like. I thought writing her a letter and making her think she had a secret lover could get (Y/N) out of the lethargy in which she was sinking with her doubts and anxieties.

Apparently it had worked. After first letter, it was evident her mind began to wander and that cheered her up a bit. I didn't think it was a bad thing, but of course, she thought it was some kind of prank. Of course, she didn’t think someone in the FBI could fall in love with her. Why not? How about a second letter to make it clear to her? A little more bold than first one. And surprisingly to me, it seemed it was easier for me to put words on paper for her than I had thought myself. The goal was accomplished: she no longer believed it was a joke, but I had forgotten how obtuse and obsessive (Y/N) could be at times.

When I savored the pleasure of just write about my feelings for her, I started to do it with more enthusiasm. In several letters I let myself go enough to show how truly I see her. And yes, even if I had been tortured, I would have denied it to death. I wasn't going to admit I was hopelessly in love with (Y/N). Why should I? We are friends. Very good friends. She trusts me and I trust her. Why ruin our friendship for something I knew was never going to happen?. It wasn't even worth the try. After 5 years everyone assumed, and so did I, that we were meant to be friends forever, and just that, friends.

And now, after a series of letters I wrote to her, this friendship was about to break. I’m a real idiot. But before taking my responsibility in this disaster, I needed to find out more about what (Y/N) knew, because maybe only she assumed things. No one says she actually knew who was sending her these letters.

Cautiously I sat in one of the seats of the jet and began to scrutinize how (Y/N) was speaking with Emily and J.J. , all over the trip. (Y/N) looked annoyed. Damn it! Precisely that was not my idea! Just the opposite. She almost never made eye contact with me. And the time she did, her eyes revealed more annoyance. So apparently my suspicions were accurate. At moment I saw (Y/N) get up with Prentiss and go to talk to Tara and Luke. I had to find out what was going on, so I went to sit in front of J.J. to try to dig a bit about it.

"What's it Spence?" J.J. asked me once I sat and looked at her with my hands crossed on the table in front of us.

"I wanted to ask you about (Y/N)... is something wrong with her?". I asked in the most innocent way I could. She, however, raised an eyebrow and looked at me curiously.

"Why do you say something is wrong with (Y/N)?" She asked.

"Ehh, well... when we were boarding the jet she looked annoyed and she didn't want to tell me what was happening... then ...". I said trying not to stutter.

"You are worried" she interrupted. I nodded immediately.

"Is it all because of her secret lover?". I dared to ask.

"Do you know about that?" J.J. asked me. She not quite sure what I knew or didn't know.

" Yes, well... she showed me the letters...". I lied, of course.

"Well, I think we found out who he is...". I felt like I was having a hard time swallowing and some air was missing from my lungs.

"Ahhh, yeah?... wow... that's... interesting...". She nodded. "And... who is it?". I asked with fear of the answer.

"Anderson" she said confidently.

"What?, Anderson?... no way!...". I couldn't help but say it out loud. J.J. looked at me with 'shut up, they'll listen to you' eyes. (Y/N) believed Anderson sent the letters to her. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or defeated. "And how does she know it's him?"

“We discarded all the suspects from our list and we got to him. It has to be Anderson” she concluded. I swallowed harder than before and I could see she was analyzing my reaction. I tried to stay calm so as not to create suspicions.

"And... what is she going to do about it?" I asked, trying to keep my composure.

“That is what confuses her. I guess she is pondering what to do about this. So don't bother her, Spence. The poor girl is a mess of nerves” suggested JJ. I just nodded, got up from the seat and went where I was previously.

My head started to spin. (Y/N) thinks Anderson is her secret lover, and they have hardly spoken in all these years! Was I even on her list? Despite being partially relieved, my heart broke a little more. But it’s ok, it was confirmation of I already knew: 'ours' could never be a reality. Maybe it was better she thinks it was him.

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

The case was being quite demanding to get me out of my thoughts. But I still felt upset. Not with poor Anderson, not even Spencer anymore. With me. This matter was killing more of my neurons and nerves than it should. And, what would I do? Nothing, there was nothing I could do. I would just let time pass and if he didn't get close to me, I wouldn't. That would stopping letters at some point. I decided passivity would be the best strategy and I would let everything cool down.

And so I ceased thinking about it too. It was our third day in Texas and we had managed to locate our unsub. With part of the team we went to make the arrest: Luke, Emily, Spencer and me. When we arrived at the place, we noticed something strange was happening. There was no electricity in the house where our unsub was supposed to be. We had to get in, so we made pairs to cover two entrances. Prentiss and Spencer took the front door and Luke and I the back door . We got in with our lamps and scanned the place, there were no traces of our target. I noticed there was a door leading to some kind of basement, I motioned for Luke to come down with me. I was up front and he covered my back. What didn’t expecting was when I was in the middle of the stairs a hand took my foot making me fall down. Obviously I dropped my gun and the flashlight I was holding. Luke started down and before he got to where I was, I felt a strong blow to the head. After that I don't remember anything else.

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

With Prentiss we heard (Y/N) yelled from the back of the house, as well as Luke's voice shouting at someone to stop. We both ran to a door that led to a basement, we heard Luke fighting a man under the stairs. Emily immediately went downstairs to help Luke reduce the unsub, who was already badly hit so it wasn't difficult. I looked with my flashlight where it was (Y/N). Suddenly I saw her lying on the floor, unconscious. Luke yelled at me "call for an ambulance, this motherfucker hit her in the head". I froze for a second. I ran outside to alert paramedics who came to the aid of (Y/N) who was still on the floor and was not reacting. I panicked. They took her to the ambulance. In the already lit street I could see how her head was bleeding profusely. They put her in the ambulance and without thinking I got in with them. I wasn't going to leave her alone now. I held her hand. There was no reaction yet. Arriving at the hospital, I could only come with her to the emergency room entrance. From there she disappeared along with a whole medical team monitoring her vital signs. She was alive, but no one knew the severity of her injuries.

Sitting on one of the benches in the waiting room, panic didn’t leave me. True be told, it was not the first time (Y/N) had been injured during a case. But this was the first time I felt real fear for her health condition. More knowing we were not on good terms and she was possibly mad with me. I hated that feeling. I hated the feeling of knowing after all this mess my emotions were finally coming out stronger than before and maybe I wasn't even going to have a chance to open up to her about it.

I was deep in thought when Emily arrived with the entire team. They looked at me asking if there was any news. I just shook my head. Nothing was known about her yet. We all remained silent, waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, a doctor came to talk to us.

"Family of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?". We all stand up and approached to him. Emily spoke first seeing his visible confusion.

"We are her coworkers. How is she?" Prentiss asked.

“The hit to the head was quite strong. Fortunately, there is no major damage, except for an ugly bruise. But with painkillers and rest, she should get better with the days”. I felt my chest release from the tension. I was really relieved. We all were, really.

"Can we see her?" J.J. asked

"Yeah right. She is wake up. Follow me if you want” doctor said to JJ, but she didn’t move and on the contrary, looked directly at me.

"Spence, you should go first". I looked at her confused. She approached me and whispered in my ear: "I think it would be good if you saw her first, so you can explain to her about the letters...". I froze. How…?. I stared at her in a stun, trying for the millionth time to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about. “Don't ask me how, but I know. It's you. Don't torment her anymore, or torture yourself more with this” she said to me and went to sit where the rest was. In silence, I followed the doctor to the room where was (Y/N).

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

I love painkillers. They give you a feeling of relief and you think everything is fine, even though you know you are hurt and eventually you’ll feel as if a truck has hit you. But I didn’t care in that moment. Now I just enjoyed not feeling pain in my body. When I woke up in the hospital, I had a hard time remembering what had happened. With an intense white light blinding my eyes, I could only feel the beep of the machines and an intense pain dissipating as medicines were injected to me. There I realized what had happened. The entrance to the basement, the fall down the stairs, the knock to the head. ‘Damn bastard’ was all I thought.

In my medicinal lethargy, I had my eyes closed. My senses were lost in a parallel dimension where I could hear things around me, but without the need to be alert. That situation suddenly changed when I felt someone took my hand. I opened my eyes and saw Spencer looking at me very closely. You could tell he was inspecting my wounds. Hell, I bet I looked horrible.

"Hey ..." said Spencer when he saw I opened my eyes and was looking at him. I couldn't say anything, I just returned a smile. The truth is I was glad to see him. Plus his concerned face made him look more adorable than usual. "How do you feel?" he asked.

“At the moment… I don't feel any pain. But I know it’s going to hurt tomorrow". I said with a grimace.

"We were worried ... I was worried ..." he said muttering but in a level I could hear.

"I’m sorry it was not my intention…". I said.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. It is good to know that… you are ok”. His words were cautious. Apparently I did give them a hard time, I could guess. I also felt bad. I was aware I had treated Spencer harshly throughout these days. I had barely spoken to him, and that was unusual for us. I know he felt it too.

"Spencer... I’m sorry, ok?". He looked at me curiously.

"Why do you say that?"

"It’s I have treated you awful these days. Even before we got on the jet. Sorry, I didn't want to be mad at you"

"I’m the one who should apologize... I’ve been insensitive to you in this whole letters issue. I haven’t behaved like you needed"

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. I don't want to talk much about it, really. But it's not your fault…"

"Yes, it is…" he said with his usual stubbornness.

"Are we really going to argue over this?... no, stop it. Look. Furthermore, the matter is resolved. I know it’s Anderson who sends me the letters. And while I find it adorable, there's nothing I could do about it. I feel sorry for him, but it's not enough to… ”

"Falling in love with him...?" Spencer interrupted me.

"I was going to say it was not enough to tell him about this... but yes, I suppose there is implicitly the fact I’ll not fall in love with him". I said laughing. But my words didn't find any resonance in Spencer. On the contrary, he just stared at the floor. That was odd.

"But did you like the letters...?”. He asked in an almost inaudible voice.

“Yes, I liked them, they were very flattering, indeed. Yes, my ego went up. Yes, I found it exciting. But that’s it. I don't know if I can say much more about it. Is something wrong with you?". I saw how his hands trembled. What was wrong with him? I had never seen him like this before, at least in front of me.

 "And... what if I told you... isn’t Anderson who sent you those letters?..." he said, again in an almost imperceptible tone.

"But I know it was him... with Emily and J.J. we realized it after analyzing...". I was not able to finish the sentence, because I could see how Spencer's glassed eyes looked at me even more cautiously. He exhaled and began to speak again.

"And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.' A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: 'Forever'…” he recited almost without blinking or breathing. I recognized those words immediately. And no, it wasn't from any of the letters I showed him at the beginning, so he couldn't have memorized it... unless... fuck!

"It was you... it was you all this time...". I wasn't asking but I needed confirmation. He said nothing, just nodded. "But ... but why? What kind of prank was that Spencer?". The bastard had mocked me all this time!

"No! It was not for that. Wasn't a joke" he hastened to reply.

"No?... come on!... You wanted me to believe I had a secret lover on the FBI! It's not fair what you did. You played with my feelings and that's not fair…”

"It’s true you have a secret lover in the FBI!" he interrupted me, raising his broken voice.

"What?... now what are you going to fabricate this time...?". I said tiredly. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Me. I'm your secret lover. I’m the one who loves you (Y/N). I love you. All the things I wrote, I wrote them thinking of you…” he said with a sigh of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from him. Sure, a weight that now fell on me.

"You what ...?". My head started to spin. Was Spencer Reid declaring his love for me in a hospital room?

"Yes, I must to recognize letters started because of the conversation we had one day where you told me you felt your life lacked emotion. I wanted to cheer you up a little, get you out of the routine. But... it finally became an excuse to me for tell you how I feel about you. Those I have felt for so long and I have never dared to say. And it's ok. I don't expect you to feel the same way about me. And if this means losing you as a friend, I'd rather never have. I can't bear to see you mad at me. I couldn't bear you to get away from me because of my stupidity… it doesn't make sense for me… I'm so sorry…” . By now I was sitting on the hospital bed, struggling if I got up to go to the bathroom or run out of there. It was a lot to process in that minute. Was I angry?. Was I excited?. Was I confused?. I think everything at once. I felt a knot in my stomach that made me nauseous. My eyes began to accumulate tears. My jaw began to hurt from clenching it too much.

"So... what is written on these letters... is it true?... is it what you feel?" I dared to ask, since I wasn't sure if I was understanding everything correctly. He nodded.

"Yes. I think the only thing I doubt so far was if I really can see your soul through your eyes… but that was the only metaphor that came to my mind the first time…” he said with a shy smile. I just laughed. He is an adorable dork. A dork I love with all my heart. If this is the chance, then... ok. I needed to take it. From the edge of the bed where I was sitting covered in my hospital gown, I reached out my hand to reach his. Spencer trembled a little when he felt my touch, but he relaxed when I managed to held his hand. I gently pulled him closer to me.

"I think we are both lousy profilers when it comes to ourselves, don't you think?". I said with a smile. Spencer snorted.

"Hey... precisely speaking you were the one who failed...". I shook my head.

"You still don't understand it? Do you? ... You also failed. Miserably. I can't believe you still don't realize I'm crazy about you. For so long that I can't even remember it”. I said as I kept stroking his hand. Spencer opened his eyes in real amazement, validating my theory of how bad we were by applying our profiler skills to each other.

"(Y/N)... so... are you...?". I nodded as I pulled him closer to me. I raised my head to find those beautiful eyes that ruined to me since the first time I saw them.

"I’m… lost, stupidly, grandiosely, incredibly… in love with you”. I said wrapping his torso with my arms. He returned my embrace pressing me against his chest.

"Though this confirms your theory, I am thrilled..." he proclaimed. We both laugh. Breaking the embrace, he stared at me and with his hands cupped my face, leaning enough to get us face-to-face. I just closed my eyes. It wasn't more a second until I felt his lips on mine. A long soft kiss. A kiss I had waited for so long. I’d have paid to stay like this forever, despite the discomfort of the hospital room. It was better than I even imagined. And although it happened as a result of our own missteps, it felt so good. As if fate really existed and was good for both of us. When we broke the kiss, we both smiled to each other like fools.

"Spencer ...?" I asked. He looked at me with the 'What?' implicit in his eyes. "Can I request you two things?" He nodded. "First one, could continue writing me letters like those occasionally?... Of course, now you must signed them properly". Spencer couldn't help but laugh.

"Ok. I think I can do that time to time. ¿And the second?". Spencer asked as he gently stroked my face with both of his hands.

"The second one: please don't let Anderson find out about this..."

———————