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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Lessons 1-5!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

So we obviously know that things would run a little differently with L!MC instead of a normal human MC, but just how differently do things go?

No Mammon, you are not allowed to babysit!

Unlike in canon, Mammon needs to be kept away from MC at the start. Why? He’s known this kid for less than a day, he’s gonna try and use them for scams.

Everyone else in the house? Well, they’re of... observing MC. This is a first, a half human kid just wandering around the house...

MC and Lucifer, despite their amicable meeting, were in this really awkward beginning stage where they didn’t really know what to do with each other.

“So...” MC resisted the urge to twiddle their thumbs as they followed their father through the halls of the House of Lamentation. This was their home for the next year. It was very grand... and also very creepy in some places. “Where’s my room?”

“Right here.” Lucifer stopped suddenly in front of a door in the hallway, nearly causing MC to crash into him. He opened up the door, the room was very very pink. “Asmodeus decorated, you can redecorate as you see fit.”

MC popped their head in and looked around, there were approximately a thousand pillows scattered around the bed. It was the perfect amount! The very pink colour scheme was... okay. Maybe they’d be able to switch some of it out for a nice blue.

“It’s nice! Thank you,” MC was about to say Lucifer, then father, then just shut their mouth. What were they supposed to call him? They had known each other for like... an hour. He seemed like the type to want to be called father, he was too posh to be ‘dad’ or ‘pops’, and calling their father by his first name seemed way too casual as well... Parental Figure..? Guardian? Sir..? Should they call him sir???

The fact that MC ended their sentence like they were going to continue it left the two in a very awkward silence. A+ job at conversation.

“Anyway,” Lucifer finally broke the silence. “If you need time to settle in, we can pick up the tour later.”

“N-no, it’s okay! I didn’t really bring anything so...” MC was in the middle of mentally cursing themselves out, they thought they had successfully avoided falling into the awkward middle schooler stereotype! “We can keep the tour going.”

“Alright then.” Lucifer turned and motioned for MC to follow. Wow... he was very... curt? Was that the right word to use? MC hoped this was as awkward for him as it was for them.

The next stop was the portrait staircase, Lucifer explained each one down to each minute detail, MC listened in rapt attention.

“We received that one from a painter from the sixth layer of the Devildom, it was quite a rare find.”

“How many layers are there?”

“Nine, we’re in the centre most layer. This is the most highly defended part of the Devildom.” Lucifer explained.

“Oh,” MC smiled. “Cool, so it’s like how Dante described it in the Divine Comedy?”

“Mostly, some changes have been made since that time.”

“Ah, okay.” MC nodded, a thought came to them which made them clear their throat to suppress a giggle. “May I ask a question that might bother you?”

Lucifer turned and raised an eyebrow at them. “You may ask one such question.”

“Why did Dante say you were frozen in an ice lake?”

Lucifer looked around, once he was sure that no one was listening, he turned back to MC, his voice was slightly lower when he answered. “I was ice skating with Lord Diavolo, I fell through the ice and into the lake right as Virgil and Dante arrived. Of course, Dante had to embellish or I’d smite him, if only he left out the ice part.”

To MC’s credit, they didn’t laugh, but they weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard it was to not burst into laughter. “Oh my... how upsetting...”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone but,” his lips quirked up into a smile. “No one would believe you if you said anything anyway.”

MC gasped, but the gasp ended up releasing the laugh they were holding in.

The half demon noticed some of the other portraits on the wall, each of the brothers had a portrait, there were two demons that MC didn’t recognize. So that was their family... they wondered if their picture might be on that wall one day...

“Who’s he?” MC pointed at the portrait between Mammon’s and Satan’s.

“That’s Leviathan, the third eldest, the Avatar of Envy, and the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy.”

‘Oooo, so he’s a military guy!’ MC thought to themselves. ‘And the third most powerful brother? Wow... he must be crazy scary...’

“What about him?” MC pointed at the seventh and final portrait.

It may have just been MC’s imagination, but they swore they saw Lucifer’s expression sour slightly.

“That’s Belphegor, the youngest and the Avatar of Sloth.” Lucifer explained. “He is currently in the human world as an exchange student.”

“Oh,” MC studied the portraits a bit more. “Cool! I hope he’s having a good time up there.”

“As do I.” Lucifer replied. “Now we should move on to the Underground-”

“LUCIFER!” Asmodeus cried. “MAMMON’S BEING STUPID AGAIN!”

Lucifer sighed and dragged a gloved hand down his face. “We’ll continue this tour later, MC. Feel free to explore some more, try not to break anything.”

“Because the things might be cursed?”

“That and the things are old and expensive.”

MC spends the rest of the day chilling in the house with Asmo, who peppers MC with ALL the questions.

They does their best to answer... but it’s clear Asmo was hoping for something a little more interesting.

“So, do you run the human world?”

“No. No I do not.”

Finally, Mammon escapes whatever punishment Lucifer’s got him caught up in and tried to get MC involved in something that’ll probably make them lose their money.

Mini HC! A demon’s wings, tail, or horns might pop out randomly if they aren’t paying attention! The demon doesn’t even need to be in their true demonic form for this to happen. It happens more often with younger demons like MC!

Mammon stops his little scheme when he notices that MC’s wings have popped out and left a few stray feathers lying about... he can hear the CHA CHING sound already.

Our favourite dummy tried to Mission Impossible his way into MC’s room but MC caught him trying to make off with some loose feathers after they came back with a dustpan to clean them up.

Eventually, it was dinner time, and Levi was still camped out in his room. Mammon got sent to get him out, and he decided to drag MC along with him.

“I don’t think we should bother him-”

“Sh! We gotta get him out of his stupid room or he’s gonna stay in there until the exchange year’s over.” Mammon snapped, stopping in front of Leviathan’s door.

“I still don’t think we should-”

Mammon rudely interrupted poor, aghast MC by slamming his fists against the door. “LEVI! GET UP! DINNER’S READY!”

The only response was someone increasing the volume on whatever show was playing behind the door. Wow, petty. MC suppressed a snort until they realized exactly what they were hearing.

Was that...

“Is that the Sailor Moon theme?” MC turned to Mammon and asked. The moment the question left their lips the pair heard someone practically bolt to the door. It swung open and hit Mammon right in the face.

“MOTHER FUCKER-”

“You!”

Ah, so this was the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. MC didn’t know that track pants and headphones were a part of the uniform.

“You like anime?!” Levi asked, MC slowly nodded.

“Y-yeah..?”

Quick as lightning, MC was pulled into the room, and Levi slammed the door shut, tragically, the door hit Mammon again.

“LEVI YOU ASS-”

Leviathan didn’t seem too interested in Mammon’s chorus of curse words and angry knocks, he was grabbing some figurines off shelves and showing some to MC.

“Do you know who this is?!”

“That’s White Blood Cell from Cells at Work. What about Mamm-”

“How about this!”

“Violet Evergarden from the show of the same name, now Levia-”

“Whose this?!”

“LEVIATHAN!” MC stomped their foot and pointed at the door. “Mammon said we need to go eat dinner.”

“Don’t interrupt me, human!” Levi hissed, MC rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Nice to meet you, by the way.” MC crossed their arms and let their wings appear and puff up behind them.

“...w-whu-WHAT?!”

“We have to go to-” MC was cut off yet again by Levi passing out. Wow... what a day...

Mammon was still pounding on the door, MC rolled their eyes and opened it.

“He passed out, can you carry him?”

Mammon was decidedly not careful with his dear little brother when he dragged him out of his room and into the dining room. When Levi finally woke up, he got an earful from Lucifer, and tried to kill Mammon.

Apparently money was owed that Mammon wasn’t about to pay.

So yeah, MC and Levi’s alliance did not stem from desperation, it stems from otaku-camaraderie.

MC and Levi planned their credit-card hostage situation over a fun evening of watching anime.

Mammon never knew what hit him...

“Okay Mammon, pay up or your credit card gets cut up.” MC playfully opened and closed the scissors before poising them to cut up the helpless credit card. Mammon let out a shriek and shook his head.

“NONONONONO- don’t do that!” Mammon put his hands up and let out a nervous laugh. “MC... wh-what’s with all the animosity..? We’re buddies, right?”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes. “Buddies don’t try and make money off each other’s feathers.”

“You heard them, Mammon.” Levi snickered. “Pay me back the money you owe me!”

“I don’t have the money right now!”

MC shook their head. “Pity... oh well, bye bye Goldie-”

“The money’s in my sock drawer- just please put the scissors down!”

They slowly lowered the scissors. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Hmmm... you have two minutes.” Levi said, Mammon took off in a sprint out of the kitchen.

“Nice job Agent L!” MC chirped, holding their hand out for a high five, Levi looked positively elated and gleefully hit his hand against MC’s.

“We did it! I’m finally going to have enough money to go to the live show! Couldn’t have done it without your help, Agent Near.”

“Wait- why am I Near?” MC asked. “You get to be L and I have to be Near?”

Levi crossed his arms and huffed. “Would you rather be Mellow?”

“No! I want to be Light! We agreed that I’d be Light!” MC hissed. Levi, literally hissed back.

Rude.

Anyway, Levi got paid, and everyone had a very entertaining breakfast. Well, Mammon didn’t have a very good time, but boo hoo he should have paid Levi back sooner.

I think MC felt legitimately bad for Mammon, all the insults and jabs being aimed at him made MC feel a little guilty...

MC took care to be extra sweet that day, and it made Mammon feel a bit better. You know what made both of them feel amazing?

Screwing with the dipshits that were talking crap about the two of them.

MC didn’t need super-hearing to notice that some of the demons at RAD found it to be peak comedy that Mammon got slapped with babysitting duty.

“...do you want to mess with them?”

“What?”

“Too late, I’m doing it with or without you.”

Mammon was totally in, obviously. A little magic to move some of the lesser demons’ things around and voila! They were all at each other’s throats and Mammon and MC got to enjoy a fun lunchtime show!

The Purgatory Hall crew got to meet MC too, of course!

“And this,” Lucifer gestured to MC. “Is the other human exchange student.”

MC popped up from behind one of the rows of desks and gave the three newcomers a toothy grin. “Nice to meet you!”

Simeon’s calm and serene expression dropped almost immediately as he quickly looked from Lucifer to MC. The latter just gave him an innocent smile and tilted their head.

“Is something the matter?” MC asked, through the corner of their eye they saw Lucifer smirk slightly.

“N...” Simeon snapped back to reality. “No, nothing’s the matter, it’s nice to meet you, MC.”

“You awful demons!” A much younger voice yapped. “You brought a human child down here?! Shame on you!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’m overwhelmed with guilt, put me out of my misery.”

“Oh!” MC gasped. “You’re the chihuahua!”

“Wh-what?!”

“What?” MC shook their head and shrugged. “What’s the matter with me being a kid? You look like you’re ten.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m well over-”

“Am I just going to go ignored?” The third and final stranger asked, a cheeky/very suspicious looking grin on his face.

“Right, you.” Lucifer sighed. “This is Solomon, another human exchange student.”

“It’s nice to finally meet the other... human exchange student.” Solomon offered a nod.

“Likewise.” MC pretended not to notice the pause before he said human.

The first bell that meant “haul your ass to next period because if the cleaning staff finds you skipping class you will be maimed” sounded. MC slung their bag over their shoulder and brushed past their fellow students.

“Have a nice rest of your day, everyone!” MC chirped as they and Lucifer headed off to their next class.

“What do you stand to gain by pretending you aren’t my child?” Lucifer asked.

MC snickered. “It’s funny! Didn’t you see their faces?”

Lucifer half smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps.”

—————

“That kid is Lucifer’s.” Solomon said the moment Lucifer and MC were out of earshot.

“Oh thank heavens someone else saw too... I thought I was going crazy...” Simeon sighed in relief.

“Hey! We’ll be late to class if you guys don’t hurry!” Luke called from down the hall.

Solomon chuckled under his breath. “This whole year just got way more interesting...”

A lot of MC’s time got devoted to getting to know their newly found family.

Satan was proving to be very... polite? Almost weirdly so? He’d address MC like he would address a formal acquaintance, not like one would address a family member... or even a roommate.

MC tried the delicate dance of trying to respect his boundaries and trying to get him to like them...

Once the glasses incident happened everything kinda caved. MC had been quite rudely shunned by Satan and they were quite done trying to be his friend! Hmph!

...hmph :(

At least Beel was nice... despite MC being a little intimidated by his size and resting bitch face, MC soon found out that Beel was a massive cinnamon roll.

In return for all the snacks Beel shared with MC, they introduced him to at least five human world cooking shows.

“MC, why is the music so dramatic? They’re just revealing the cooking supplies.”

“It’s a reality TV thing... everything is 10 times more dramatic than it needs to be. The music’s doing its job though, I’m very impressed by that pie dish.”

Overall, MC’s first week at RAD was pretty decent! Until... well... until Friday.

MC could only hide their demonic side for so long...

“That’s them?”

MC slowed their steps and turned to look for the source of the voice.

“Yep.” A second voice confirmed. “Human kid, like I said.”

Ugh... of all the times to have needed to stay late after school... the hallway MC was in was completely empty and they had no clue where anyone they actually knew was-

“Boo.”

MC whirled around to see the two gossiping demons standing right behind them. They instinctively took a few steps back before the taller of the two demons grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them forward.

“Geez, are all humans this tiny?” The taller one asked as he slowly lifted MC off the ground. MC fixed him with the nastiest glare possible, he tried to scowl back, but ended up looking away and laughing to the shorter demon. “Look at them, barely enough for a snack, no wonder Beel hasn’t eaten them yet.”

Turning to the shorter demon, MC gave them a similar glare. “Put me down.”

“Tsk, quiet.” The taller demon snapped, he turned back to the shorter demon. “So if we just nab them now, how much do you think someone’ll take for their soul?”

“I-uh...” the shorter demon couldn’t pry their gaze away from MC’s as they tried to sputter a response. “I don’t think we should...”

“Why not? The exchange program’s still in its trial phase anyway, we kill this human and they’ll just bring in another one.”

The way he was speaking about them made MC’s skin crawl. How dare he? How dare he talk about them like they were just common trash? Who did this... person think he was?

An old familiar feeling bubbled beneath the surface. It had always been there, the intense, sometimes overwhelming desire to let the whole world know that they were better. The feeling coiled its way up MC’s spine and wormed its way into their head where it settled.

“You can’t be spoken to like that.”

Every single time this feeling had flared up, MC had done their best to suppress it. They didn’t know what would happen if they gave in, and frankly, they didn’t want to know.

“Let them know you’re not to be trifled with.”

The burning desire to crush the two demons like ants was almost impossible to ignore. MC felt their hands twitch and sparks snap between their fingertips.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” MC growled. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Human,” the taller demon turned back and cooed, his mocking tone made MC want to rip his throat out. “I said be quiet.”

His grip on MC’s wrist tightened until a sickening crack echoed through the empty hallway.

Bile immediately rose in MC’s throat as they let out an earsplitting scream. Their wrist seared in pain and their heart began to race hammer against their ribcage.

The desire to give in only grew and became harder to control, MC could feel themselves slipping. The feeling only had one simple question to ask, one that MC knew the answer to.

“Are you going to let them get away with that?”

Their face morphed into a cheek splitting grin despite the pain, their head tilted to the left as they stared down the two demons.

“No.”

Horns twisted and burst out of their skull as they dug their rapidly sharpening nails into the demon’s arm. Their teeth grew and sharpened while formerly hidden fangs burst through their upper gums. The agonizing pain of their bones growing, snapping, and shifting in and out of place as their demonic form took hold for the first time numbed as MC revelled in their new power.

Through the reflection in the taller demon’s horrified stare, MC could see their pupils stretch into almost catlike slits. He dropped them onto the floor while he and the shorter demon backed up. MC’s impossibly wide smile only grew as they watched the realization dawn upon the lesser demon as he stitched together what he had just done. The human he had decided to bother wasn’t quite so human after all.

“Oh?” MC cooed as their wings split through their back and unfurled behind them. “Where do you think you two are going? We haven’t even gotten started yet.”

—————

Lucifer was jolted from his conversation by a sharp blast of blue light and the sound of screams from a nearby hallway. He instinctively rolled his eyes.

“Lord Diavolo, pardon me but I need to go deal with a disturbance in the halls.” Lucifer said, Diavolo sighed mournfully on the other end of the call.

“Alright, if you must, but make sure to come over later! There are events that need to be scheduled.”

Lucifer knew full well that Diavolo was making half of the school events up as an excuse for basic social interaction. Oh well, it wasn’t the time to think on his prince’s social woes, he had a problem to solve.

How many times did he have to tell some of those idiotic students to take their petty squabbles outside?

Lucifer made his way over to where the fight was happening, he wasn’t walking with particular urgency, a fight on school property wasn’t too unusual, until a massive shockwave spilled through the hallways and slammed into him.

The Avatar of Pride felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, that was his magical signature... wasn’t it? No, it was just different enough...

“Dammit.” Lucifer doubled his pace, when he reached the end of the hallway, the sight was just what he feared.

MC stood straight in the middle of the hallway with their back to him, two other demons were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground, one was next to an incredibly dented row of lockers while the other was lying next to an almost completely broken drinking fountain.

Lucifer’s own true form was out in a flash as MC turned to look at him. their eyes glowing a shining blue. Their lips curled into a snarl as they let out an otherworldly growl.

“Go away.”

“MC, calm yourself down.” Lucifer said slowly as he approached them. “Return to your normal form.”

The half demon bowed their head slightly and took a few steps back as he stepped closer. Lucifer almost patted himself on the back for such a show of authority, until MC paused and looked up defiantly. The glow in their eyes doubled as any sense of fear left them completely.

“I said, GO AWAY!”

They lunged at him, which he easily sidestepped, only for MC to quickly turn and latch their claws into his arm.

The child packed a surprising amount of force into their strikes, but he was able to block and redirect almost every single one. If this were any normal fight, Lucifer would have just swatted them away and have been done with it, but this wasn’t any ordinary opponent.

MC was his child, the exchange student, and going through their first transformation. They weren’t exactly rational or directly responsible for any of their actions at that moment.

During a first transformation the demon is almost completely relying on base instincts to function, they’ll go completely ballistic for a while, trying to tear through anything in their way until they run out of energy and pass out. Which is why during a demon’s first transformation usually happened much earlier in their lives under the watchful eyes of parents or guardians.

It was clear to anyone with even casual knowledge of demons that MC had fully given themselves over to their pride and wouldn’t stop trying to prove their superiority until they passed out.

Even though Lucifer was blocking and avoiding most of the blows, MC had managed to get in a few good scratches.

They snapped at Lucifer’s right hand, narrowly missing it and aimed their elbow at his jaw. Almost casually batting the hit away, he hissed in frustration.

“Damn it... MC, control yourself!”

MC snarled and sloppily lunged forward, only for Lucifer to use his wings to bat them to the side. They slid across the floor, their glasses falling off and skidding away from them. MC lay still for a few moments, their chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lucifer stood in place, waiting for any sudden movement. For a few moments, the hallway was quiet, save for the massive gulps of air MC was taking and the occasional groan of pain from one of the demons on the floor. MC slowly sat up and blinked a few times, then looked from side to side.

Something important dawned on Lucifer, he didn’t know just how blind MC was without their glasses.

MC’s rapid breathing began to slow as they continued to squint and search the area around them for their glasses. Lucifer almost audibly sighed in relief as the blue glow in his child’s eyes began to dull.

“MC.” Lucifer allowed his demon form to disappear as he slowly moved towards them, making sure MC could hear him approaching.

The half demon stopped scanning the area for their glasses and looked up at him, they awkwardly covered a yawn with their hand as their wings sleepily fluttered behind them. It would have been much cuter if MC wasn’t spattered with blood.

Lucifer slowly offered his hand, which MC eyed suspiciously. “Come on, let’s go.”

MC blinked a few times, then yawned again and awkwardly accepted his hand. “Mmph... m’tired...”

“That’s good,” Lucifer said quietly. “Everything’s okay.”

MC half nodded and awkwardly stumbled as they tried to find their footing. Lucifer tried to help steady them, but it proved ineffective as MC collapsed into his arms. Sighing, he picked them up and began to walk back to the House of Lamentation.

Just before leaving the school, Lucifer passed by Simeon and Solomon, who looked from MC, who had curled their wings around themselves and was sleeping soundly, to Lucifer, who had a few scratch marks on his face and whose hair was a complete mess.

“Ah, you two, one of you do me a favour.” Lucifer said as he brushed past them. “One of you go to the biology hallway and pick up MC’s glasses.”

Simeon and Solomon nodded and mumbled out an affirmation as Lucifer left the school with MC. Hmph, it seemed MC was right, their confused/shocked faces were quite funny.

MC woke up the next morning with the worst muscle pain they had ever and hopefully would ever feel. On the bright side, their wrist wasn’t broken anymore :D

They had literally built their true form. Their skeleton just stretched and rearranged itself, horns grew out from their cranium, their wings broke through their back and a new set of fangs decided to break through their gums... and then all of that new stuff was gone as MC lay in bed in their normal form like a deflated beach ball.

Not wanting to seem like a wimp, MC dragged themselves to breakfast, and everyone was all: “MC, go back to bed, you can’t do anything when you’re like this.”

“Quiet, I’m fine.”

“MC, if you’re fine, then give Beel a high five, make sure it makes the slap sound.”

“Alright then, Beel, come here.”

Beel didn’t exactly think to take MC’s shorter stature into account when holding up his hand for a high five. He’s tall, okay?

MC then proceeded to grit their teeth and try not to scream as they lifted their arm to weakly hit their hand against Beel’s.

“It made the noise..!”

“No it didn’t, I didn’t hear it.”

“Fatherrrr!”

“Couldn’t hear it, go back upstairs.”

When MC trudged upstairs, Asmo practically squealed and pointed out that MC had called Lucifer father for the first time. It’s a shame no one took a picture of happy/surprised Lucifer.

Side note: after the whole event calmed down, Lucifer was crazy proud that his kid kicked the asses of two grown demons.

Funnily enough, this incident is what kickstarted MC and Luke’s friendship! Luke heard MC got into a fight and brought over get-well cookies! Sure... Beel, Mammon and Levi stole most of the cookies but they were still good!

At school on Monday... hooooooo boy... the two demons that tried to kill MC had lived to tell the tale thanks to MC getting distracted by Lucifer, and now the entire student body knew NOT to fuck with MC.

A few weeks into the exchange year, things had settled into a somewhat normal routine... until one really shitty night in particular.

MC was curled up in bed, their new comforter and sheets were a pain to put in, but they suited MC’s taste much better than the pink that had been there previously. Sighing in contentment, MC felt themselves drifting off to sleep-

Mother fucker who was texting at the ungodly hour of 10:30 pm on a Sunday? ‘Twas the lord’s day and the lord of the house stated that everyone needed to get their asses to bed at a reasonable hour.

MC picked up their phone and put on their glasses. After being blinded by the light of the phone for a brief moment, MC read the text.

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags 💰🕶: Oi! MC! U want a snack?

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags💰🕶: I’m in the kitchen! Get down here!

After debating whether or not to throw Mammon to the wolves and rat him out, MC decided that they did in fact want a snack and hopped out of bed to go to the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” Mammon said through a mouthful of something in a container, a loose note hung limply from a piece of tape that was stuck on the Tupperware. “Next time, hurry it up, got it? Ya can’t keep me waitin’ like this!”

“Mm...” MC grumbled, rubbing their eyes and looking around the kitchen. “What are you eating?”

“Custard!” Mammon smiled brightly. “Ya gotta try this!”

Oooo, custard! MC grabbed a spoon and practically skipped over to try some. Right before they were about to try a bit of the heavenly deliciousness, MC paused and finally caught a glimpse of what the note said.

‘Property of Beelzebub, you eat it, you die.’

Uh oh-

———————

Okay, the next few bits of this WILL come out in order, I promise! Kinda... not really... eh... but it matters not! I hope you all enjoyed this! I didn’t leave you with a cliffhanger this time considering Lessons 5-6 are already out ^_^

So uh- wanna fight the demons that tried to hurt MC? I’m bringing the pitchforks, who’s driving?

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kohanayaki · 3 years

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.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

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

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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spiked-tea-writing · 3 years

Text

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

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stripper-patrick · 3 years

Text

Heaven 🇫🇷Florian Munteanu

Warnings: language, smut, nsfw

Song- Streets: Doja Cat

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Florian Munteanu x black plus sized reader

My alarm goes off and I happily get up getting ready for our trip to Paris. I go to the bathroom wetting my face with warm water seeing as cold water just makes me mad. I exfoliate my face and lips before moving on to brush my teeth and swish some mouthwash.

I hop in the shower scrubbing, shaving, and exfoliating my body with my warm vanilla sugar scented soap from bath and body works. I rinse off the soap and step out applying coconut oil to my damp body then applying the matching warm vanilla sugar lotion to lock in the moisture. I’m black we gotta stay hydrated and mind out business.

I put on some deodorant and face moisturizer grabbing a black bra and some burgundy rhinestone Brazilian panties. I grab the outfit laid on my nearby chair and my Nike air 270’s. I sit at my vanity doing a light makeup look and adding some Vaseline for that shine affect on my lips. I decide to tie up my long braids in a cute little bun and I see my phone buzz. I swipe right and answer Florian’s call “good morning” I smile

“Good morning” my breath physically catches in my throat at his deep raspy morning voice. “Are you ready?”

“Yes I am”

“Oh and be sure to have something nice we’re going to brunch with my family”

“Oh ok” I nod. I did pack some fancy outfits because it’s Paris who wouldn’t but I know China hasn’t met his family yet. “So do you fight tonight?”

“No tomorrow. And we’ll be staying with my parents at their house”

“We’re not staying in a hotel?”

“No” he chuckles

“Ok then”

....

I park my car on a vacant lot seeing a singular airplane and Florian sitting on the steps. I get out and my jaw is dropped to the core of the earth.

“Hey baby girl” he jogs over hugging me and I’m too in shock to even acknowledge the nickname. I pop the trunk and grab my suitcase before he takes it from me “I could’ve got it”

“For what I’m here. You look good”

“Thank you” I smile “so you own this plane?”

“Kinda me and my brother went half on it. You’ll get to meet him later” he winks. Flo takes my luggage to the flight attendants and holds my hand leading me into the spacious red leather interior of the plane.

“This is dope Flo” I say

“Thank you” we sit across from each other and the flight attendant brings us champagne in a glass.

I take a sip and I can taste how expensive it is.

“So how long will this flight be?”

“About 12 hours” I sigh as we take off.

“Well how do we pass time?” He cocks up his eyebrow Suggestively and I smile.

...

“Ok how old were you when you lost your virginity?” I ask looking over. We’ve now moved next to each other giggling from the champagne.

“15” he answers. We’re playing a game of truth or strip. It’s simple. If you don’t wanna answer your truth you have to strip. Better than truth or dare. He has taken off his socks, shirt and watch and I took off my biker shorts and socks.

“Oh” I nod “if you had to choose between me and Brad Pitt to have sex with who would it be”

“Can I choose both?” I laugh

“Nope”

“Ok I would choose you” I laugh “I don’t know Brad like that or how good he is”

“How do you know I’m good in bed?” he leans getting closer.

“Aside from the details China tells me I can tell you know how to use what you got”

“What do you mean?” He smiles.

“You know what I mean” I laugh. Deep down I want him to prove me right but that would be completely outta line.

“I need an example” all of a sudden I’m shy but not to shy to bite my tongue.

“Like your tongue you look like you know how to use it in the best way” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at me. I feel myself leaning in. He’s leaning too. Our lips attach and it was like a flame was set off in my body. I’m frozen but my lips are still moving in sync with his.

Flo’s large hand caresses thigh then bring them in my underwear rubbing slowly at my clit. I moan in his mouth and he speeds up. Out of instinct I try to close my thighs arching my back but he keeps a good grip. He slips a finger in and starts kissing my neck. I moan out but the flash of my best friends face crosses my mind and I place my hands on his shoulders and stop all movements.

“You’re with China” I say breathing heavily. He nods looking down and my clit is throbbing and so badly I want so much more but I know I’d feel the worse whether China found out or not.

“You’re right I’m sorry” he nods taking his hand out of my underwear. His fingertip is wet with my juices and I let out a puff of air holding my head in my hands. I grab my pants and we redress ourselves before sitting back down. I sigh closing my eyes getting comfortable. All I can think about is his head between my legs and him being dominant and absolutely man-handling me. I open my eyes again looking out the window at the dark night sky.

‘Something takes over me and I straddle Flo and grab his arms wrapping them around me. I grab his face kissing him and he grinds me against his hard on. He’s quick to pull off my underwear and shimmy down his pants just a little bit. The tip inserts through my walls and I-‘

“Y/N you should probably get some rest” I snap out of my thoughts and he’s just staring at me.

“Yea you’re right” he stands to grabbing two blankets from the closet. He hands me one and I give off a small smile and a thank you. I pull the heavy soft blanket over my body up to my chin before taking a deep breath that transitions me into a deep sleep.

...

I wake up just at sunrise to see Florian asleep. He looks peaceful when he’s asleep. I look out the window watching the beautiful sky. It’s painted a mix of pink purple and yellow in the cleanest way.

I smile and stand up stretching my legs and back. There’s a big window at the back of the plane and I walk back there folding my arms just looking.

I feel arms around my waist and Florian’s hand slides up my neck to my jaw bringing my lips to his. I can’t help but kiss back now. This is so wrong but it feels so right.

I turn my body taking in his embrace and his hands go down to my butt giving it a light squeeze. He stops kissing me and walks away back to his seat. I watch his eyes close and I go sitting next to him. I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me and I lay on his chest drifting to sleep once again.

...

We are just getting off the plane in the warm climate of France. Considering it’s spring there’s a slight chill in the air making me put on a light jacket. Flo grabs our bags taking it to the car and the driver gets out. He looks like Flo honestly. Not as tall but still over 6 feet, green hazel eyes, pretty smile. The have a resemblance towards each other. Florian gives him a big hug with a laugh “how’ve you been?” The guy asks

“I’ve been good. This is Y/N. Y/N this is my brother Daniel” he opens his arms and I give him a big hug.

“Nice to meet you” he smiles

“Nice to meet you too”

“How’s China” he glances at me smiling

“She’s great” he nods

“Good well let’s not waste any time let’s go” he nods. I get in the backseat and I see a woman in the front. “Hi I’m Amelia” she introduces. Perfect skin, long legs, gorgeous blonde hair. She’s a model.

“Hi I’m Y/N” she smiles sweetly and turns around. Florian sits next to me and his brother gets in the driver seat as we pull off in the beautiful city of Paris. Or as I like to call it, Heaven.

As we go through I’m glued to the window tapping Flo’s thigh every time I see something cool like mimes, flowers, and even puppies. I notice Flo’s hand on my thigh and I want to move it so badly for the sake of just feeling bad but I can’t. This feels so good.

We arrive at the house shortly after and it’s huge to say the least. I get out and Daniel opens the trunk. I go to grab my bag and Florian smacks my hand. My jaw drops with a laugh emitting from both of us while Daniel and his wife walk by.

“I’ll get it” he says. He picks up my suitcase and his as well rolling both of them into the house. I’m still enjoying the exterior. An older gentleman comes out looking at me. I walk up to him and a huge smile spreads across his face. “Are you English?” His thick accent much like Flo’s emits through his perfect teeth.

“Close. American. I’m Y/N, Florian’s friend”

“No girlfriend?” His thick accent doesn’t stop the curiosity but still love coming from him.

“No she’s at home” I smile. He extends his arms pulling me in for a hug. He smells like teakwood and a little bit of backwoods.

“We have dinner tonight. You like goat?”

“Never tried it” I laugh. He wraps his arm around my shoulder walking me into his house “your house is beautiful”

“Thank you. Me and my wife built it when Daniel was born” he explains “from the ground up and this is one house I will never get rid of”

“I’m just in love with it” an older woman appears with broad shoulders and a disgusted look on her face staring right into my soul.

“Who this?” She asks pointing to me. I hate when people wave their fingers in my face it makes me wanna fight. But for her sake I’ll chalk it up to a culture difference.

“Diana this is Y/N Florian’s friend” his father speaks “oh my apologies my name is Emilio”

“You think you’re good enough for my son?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ma stop” Florian scolds “what the hell is wrong with you”

“I apologize she can be a handful sometimes. Which is why we’re separated” Emilio says to me. I can’t help but giggle and he shows me around more with Flo behind us.

...

I get out the steamy shower and a knock comes at my door. I open it slightly seeing its Florian dressed in a Nike tracksuit. I’m only in a towel and I smile at him. “Hey you look good” I step aside allowing him in and he shuts the door sitting on the bed.

“Thanks” he answers “you look better. I think my mom will love that” he laughs

“Funny” I smile sarcastically laughing to myself

“Y/N I’m sorry but I just can’t help myself when I’m around you. Every time even when all of us like me you and China are together I want to make you mine and I know that’s your best friend-“ I cut him off with a kiss. That’s that wrenching feeling inside of me knowing I’m going to hurt my best friend is strong. But my feelings for him are stronger. What we have built is too strong for me to just walk away.

“Let’s just have fun this weekend and we’ll see where to go from there” I reassure him. Florian slides his hand up my thigh dangerously close to my bare pussy. Before he moves any higher I push his hand away “I have to get ready”

“Alright alright” he stands up “just meet me downstairs” he kisses my head and I shut the door behind him. I sigh shaking my head ridding myself of the thought that betrays myself and my best friend the most. I go in my suitcase grabbing the short casual t-shirt dress I brought. It accentuates my curves but still is simple.

I grab some sandals sliding those on and snapping the strap to my ankle. I take one last look in the mirror before opening the door to his mother standing right in front of me. “Hi?” I respond in more of a question like tone

“Are you going to Florians fight in 2 days?” She asks

“I am” she rolls her eyes muttering something under her breath. “What was that?” I call out daring her to say it again. People, especially older people, need to realize respect isn’t given it’s earned and if you put me in a position where I have every right to disrespect you, then that’s that.

“Take your ass back on the plane and go home. My son doesn’t need you” Just then I hear Florian yell and he comes up the stairs.

“Let’s go Y/N” he grabs my hand but I yank it away too heated in the moment to understand he means good.

“Nah she wanna sit here and keep disrespecting me. I’ve had enough. Me and him aren’t-“ Florian picks me up taking me downstairs where he sets me down on my feet. His hands are still clad at my waist as I fume.

“I’m tired of her talking to me like she’s lost her gotdamn mind”

“Just don’t let her get to you. I’ll talk to her later tonight. Please” he begs. I sigh and he pulls me in for a tight hug. I take a deep breath of his cologne gathering my thoughts. I let go and walk in front of him to the kitchen earning a swat to my behind. I shake my head and we approach the table full of others. They all stare at me including his mother sitting at the end. I sit down and Flo sits next to me. The maids bring out an appetizer and it’s an orange soup. I grab my spoon taking a sip and it’s delicious.

“This is called a zuppa toscana” Emilio says “something my mother used to make me and my brothers all the time” he smiles. The family engulfs themselves in chatty conversations and I continue sipping on my soup. Flashbacks of the plane and Florian rubbing my pussy keep hitting me creating a waterfall in my panties. I can already feel their soaked through. I stretch my hand on his thigh lightly resting it there. Florian glances at me before going back to his food. I move my hand on top of his crotch rubbing lightly making a firm grip. I feel his thigh twitch and his hazel turn into a dark brown. I keep rubbing him through his pants feeling him harden. I keep rubbing until the chef comes out of the kitchen.

“The food is taking some time but it will be out shortly” the chef announces smiling.

“Perfect Y/N come with me” Florian grabs my hand dragging me with him throughout the house.

He opens the big glass door and lets me out first. I look around seeing we’ve entered a beautiful garden. “This is gorgeous” he shuts the door and grabs my hand not saying a word. Florian leads me through it to a bench in front of some flowers. I bite my lip and he wraps his hand around my throat sealing any space between us with a kiss. His hands move to my butt giving it a nice squeeze. I gasp feeling his tongue slip in my mouth. I feel dizzy and hot. I’m not sure who’s air I’m breathing anymore. He lets go and I suck in a breath of air as Florian sits on the bench. He pulls my dress off tearing off the thin fabric of my lace thong. He sits me on his lap and I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. I grind along his hard-on as he grips the back of my neck holding me in a powerful kiss. I lift my dress up pulling my underwear to the side while he unbuckles his pants. Florian lets out a big girthy dick and I watch as it pulsates and leaked with precum.

I grab ahold of it and glide myself onto him feeling his dick expand my walls gracefully. Once I’m fully on him Florian grabs my hips digging into them guiding me to ride him. This increases my pleasure somehow.

“I’ve waited for this for so long” he moans bucking my hips faster. I bounce my ass and my acrylics glide through his short hair. My breath is caught in my throat by how fast I’m going and how big he is. My hands move to his chest and I let out that first succulent moan. Florian rolls my hips faster attaching his lips to my neck heightening my pleasure. I claw at his chest hearing his deep voice rumble in my neck “I’ve wanted this tight pussy around my cock and in my mouth since I first met you”

My moans get louder hearing his vulgarity and my legs begin shaking from the pressure building in my center. Florian holds me down with one arm and his other hand snakes up to my mouth silencing my moans. Somehow this makes this rendezvous 10x hotter. He starts pounding me out from below and the only thing you can hear is skin slapping on skin and his low grunts and moans.

“Are you gonna cum on me?” I nod furiously trying to push away from his death grip. The pounding becoming too much “uh uh take this dick”

I have no choice but to sit there and take it. My entire body tensed and I begin my convulsions while gripping on the bottom of his shirt. He takes his hand off my mouth and I instantly move to his neck where loud moans are muffled in his shirt. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” I hop off to the best of my ability and get on my knees. I grab the base of his dick jerking it hard while sucking on the tip. Before I know it warm, bitterness is brought into my mouth while he grips the edge of the bench moaning. He’s gripping so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

“That’s my girl” I milk him dry and keep sucking until he’s begging me to stop. I come off his member with a pop and smile at him. Florian grabs my throat giving me a wet sloppy nasty kiss.

“You’re so nasty” he smiles “I love it”

I pull my dress down and discard my underwear in my bra. Florian fixes himself and I see the door open. It’s the chef.

“The food is ready. I was told you might be out here since it’s your favorite spot”

“Yes thank you. Just showing her the flowers” he extends his hand and I walk in front of him. The chef leaves the door open walking away and I giggle to myself thinking of what we just did. I’m gonna beat myself up later about it.

#smut #fluff #florian munteanu x reader #florian munteanu #big nasty #florian munteanu smut #series

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writingsonawall · 3 years

Text

Falling, fallen chapter 3

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OFC

Story summary: Spencer randomly meets Leah at the library and their first encounter was supposed to be just that; a random one-time occurance. When an unsub lands Spencer in the very same hospital she works at, she feels obligated to take care of him. But what happens when his team notices her everlooming presence and theorises that perhaps she could be the unsub they’re looking for?

Chapter summary: The BAU start developing a profile which leads them to investigate Leah.

Warnings: Recalling a violent incident, bit of blood but not too bad.

Wordcount: 12,6 k

A/N: This chapter is written from Emily’s POV just to get a different perspective on the story.

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Emily shot Reid a knowing look as she stepped through the door before turning her head slightly to watch the nurse shuffle down the corridor. She was pretty, that much was for certain and she knew Reid thought so, too. She took a seat by his bed, dropping the bag to the floor. She had just gotten back from his apartment, finally having had the time to collect the things he’d asked for earlier that same morning. She decided not to comment on the nurse any further as the three of them went back to work, trying to piece together a profile with the mess of details they had.

“What if we’re looking for two unsubs?” The first break came about an hour after Emily had returned to Reid’s room and they all peaked up at Rossi’s suggestion.

“What makes you say that?” Morgan’s voice sounded through Garcia’s phone now and Emily wondered the same thing.

“Look at the bruisings around Anita Thorne’s throat. That’s pretty large hands, don’t you think? Probably from a man. But the stabwounds on Gomez’ body were hesitant and shallow, not a lot of force behind them,” Rossi explained his thinking and Emily followed easily while she flipped through her files.

“So, you’re thinking whoever killed Gomez was a woman?” J.J. spoke up this time. Morgan didn’t even give Rossi time to answer.

“But the stabbing was all over the place and brutal. It was overkill. Do you really think a woman would be capable of doing that?”

“Maybe our unsub was hesitant about killing Gomez? Not knowing what to do or how to do it correctly? Maybe he was trying to establish a MO?” Reid spoke up now and his words surprised Emily. Anita Thorne had been killed a week and half before Gomez, so if the unsub was the same person then he was definitely accustomed to killing. It made no sense for him to brutally strangle Thorne, then hesitate when it came to Gomez. Unless there was a connection between Gomez and the unsub which they hadn’t made yet. That seemed unlikely since there was no sign of the unsub’s remorse anywhere on the body or at the crimescene. It didn’t feel personal.

Emily voiced her thoughts and the team agreed with her. She got a little concerned about Reid. He seemed to have gotten confused by such a simple thing as the timelines of the different victims. That was the kind of mistake Reid would never do. She was afraid he wasn’t in the right headspace to be working this case, but she didn’t speak her concern just yet.

“Typically in a killer-duo one part to be more dominant and the other more submissive. We shouldn’t assume that the female is the submissive one just because she’s the weaker sex. In fact we should assume the opposite, especially if we still regard our previous theory that at least one of them has some sort of medicaltraining. Healthcare is widely dominated by females after all,” Reid rambled on in his usual manner, but something still seemed… Off about him. Like he was trying to hide his privous slip up.

“So, you think we’re looking for a man and woman, and that the woman is the dominant person here?” Rossi asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. In traditional gender roles the man is depicted as the dominant type, when it in reality is the female who holds all the power. She controlls access to sex, decides what’s for dinner, has the most influence over the kids… Even though men typically are physically stronger than women, it’s still the women who control them, so I wouldn’t say it’s odd,” Reid explained further and by the way he was fiddling in the bed Emily could tell he had a lot more to say on the matter.

“Well, it fits,” J.J. butted in. “If the woman is dominant we can only assume she decides who gets to live and who doesn’t.”

“But how does she decide that?” Emily asked out loud.

“Garcia’s already looked through all the workers in both hospitals and no one crossrefranses,” Morgan interjected.

“I sure have, Sweetcheeks,” Garcia spoke up.

“There’s got to be something here that we’re missing,” Morgan mumbled.

“Garcia, start off by looking into hospitalemployees who might match our profile who’ve had contact with more than one of our victims. The dominant would be meticulous, so look for anyone with a clean record, we can also assume she’s reserved with few sosial contacts. We still don’t know how she decides who dies so look for anyone who stands out, employees who pay close attention to the victims, who check on them more than necessary, anything that screams unnatural behavior.” Hotch said and at that last bit Garcia’s fingers paused over the keyboard. Emily knew what she was thinking, because she was thinking the exact same thing.

“Does that mean employees who’s worked with Reid as well?” Garcia sounded guilty as she spoke and Emily noted that she gave Reid an apologetic look.

“What have you got Garcia?” Hotch’s answer fell to deaf ears because Reid lashed out.

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong!” He all but yelled.

“Spence!” J.J. sounded concerned, but she too was ignored.

“She didn’t do this. I know her and she didn’t do this.” Emily almost felt bad for him. The nurse had seemed like a sweet girl and either she’d played him like a fool or they were wrongfully accusing her of being a killer. There was no way she’d come good out of this one.

“Hold on! Who are we talking about?” Morgan asked at the same time as someone, Emily couldn’t tell who, asked “What do you mean you know her?” It was silent after that, this kind of silence that was just waiting for someone to break it. Emily realized then that she was staring blankly at Reid, still not used to him lashing out like that.

“I met her last night at the library,” Reid finally said after a reluctant sigh. That made Emily’s eyes go wide. Why hadn’t he said something before? “And I know what you’re all thinking, but it wasn’t her. She left way before I was shot. Garcia can probably verify that with an easy search, she got to work before 10 P.M. I know how bad that looks, but I’m telling you it’s not her. Hotch…” Reid’s voice was almost pleading towards the end and now Emily felt really bad for him. He wanted so desperately to believe it wasn’t her that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. Even though Emily hadn’t spent that much time at the hospital she had reacted to the nurse, feeling like there was something... off about her. She hadn’t even thought that the young woman might be the unsub, but when she thought it now; it just fit.

“What’s her name?” Hotch asked, his tone of voice unreadable. Emily wondered what he was thinking.

“Leah Clarewater,” Reid sighed, probably knowing he’d lost the battle. If he hadn’t said anything, Garcia would’ve found out anyway.

“Alright. Garcia, run her and see what pops up.” Hotch almost didn’t have the time to speak because Reid interrupted him.

“Get out,” He spoke, his voice quiet but his words were harsh.

“Reid,” Emily reached forward to lay a hand on his arm but he shied away from her.

“I said, get out. I’m not even on this case and I’m telling you it’s not her, but no one’s listening. I don’t want to hear anymore, so please… just get out.” He sounded almost completely broken, as if his whole life had just been flipped upsidedown and it made Emily frown.

“Garcia, Prentiss… You heard him.” Hotch’s voice was clear and Garcia sat there frozen for a second before quickly gathering her stuff and rising from her chair.

“Reid,” Emily tried again.

“What, Emily?” He snapped at her. “I’m telling you it’s not her, and it’s not just something I want to believe; it’s something I know for a fact. And when you eventually realize that you’re all wrong I am the one who’s gonna have to look her in the eyes and live with that guilt. So no, I don’t want to hear what you find out when you do a search on her, because it’s not my place to know unless she tells me herself.” He was almost panting with rage when he finished his rambling and the room once more fell in an awkward silence so thick it could practically be cut through with a knife. His words were laced with venom and she then realized that this wasn’t all about the nurse. Most it was, sure, but he was obviously still not over everything that happened with Emily and Doyle. She had felt horrible about lying to him and the rest of the team like that, but she had thought they had all worked through it by now. Reid obviously hadn’t, because that lash out was a whole lot of unresolved tension.

Emily escorted Garcia out of the room without another word. They found a secluded area in the waitingroom outside of the ICU and Garcia seemed a little reluctant about continuing.

“Sir. I must say that this doesn’t feel right,” she mumbled, the rest of the team still on the phone even though they had gone silent after Reid’s blow up.

“I know, Garcia, but just see what you can find out,” Hotch said.

“Is someone gonna tell me who we’re talking about now?” Morgan asked and that made Emily smile. Of course he hadn't picked up on who they were talking about yet. He was a damn good agent, but sometimes he could be slow.

“The nurse who came to get us when Reid woke up this morning,” Emily replied, leaning a little closer to her phone.

“Oh, the ho-” Morgan stopped himself before he could finish his sentence. Emily tried to hide her snicker because she knew he was about to say ‘hot one’, but that would be highly inappropriate.

“She seemed like a good kid,” Rossi interjected.

“Oh, but she’s anything but!” Garcia finally spoke up again. This was the first time Emily felt a little disgusted by how excited she sounded. She knew that Garcia couldn’t always help it. She was stuck in her office all day while the rest of the team were out in the field. She loved having things to do and whenever she found something that could help, she always took that win personally. Still, this time Emily couldn’t quite feel it. Reid obviously had a thing for this girl; attraction, admiration or whatever it was… And now Garica might have found something to shatter his precious fantasy of the girl.

“What have you got?” Hotch asked.

“Well… Leah Singer Clarewater, born and raised in The Bronx, New York. Apparently she ran in a bad crowd in her younger years. Several of her friends were picked up on drugcharges in high school. She doesn’t really have a record herself, but we can only assume she was just as bad as her friends since, you know, they were friends… Anyway, when she was eighteen her eight year old brother disappeared without a trace and he was never found. Leah was apparently with him when it happened. Police investigated, but never found out what happened. Two years later her mother died of, oh, let’s see… Cancer and after that it seems that she and her father drifted off. I can’t see that they have any contact now and she doesn’t seem to have many friends. No social media, I mean zip zero, no Facebook, Twitter, not even YouTube. Nada. She’s basically a loner.”

“That does fit the profile,” J.J. mumbled. Emily agreed. And the story about family could’ve been a stressor.

“Look, guys… We have to be absolutely certain about this,” Morgan spoke up, probably feeling just what Emily was.

“Well, she has a good medical education,” Garcia said. “I mean, like really good. She’s taken a lot of extra courses and addons to her Bachelor of Science in Nursing. She’d basically just need a few hours of mandatory training and she’d be certified as a paramedic.”

“So, she has a lot of medical knowledge?” Rossi asked.

“That she sure does,” Garcia nodded as she spoke, even though it was just Emily there to see her. “And- Oh! Oh…” Garcia trailed off, a sad look crossing her features. Emily wondered what she had just found out.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“She has a registered .45,” she whispered. Reid, and the other victims, had been shot with a .45. Oh, how Emily hated this. She had almost hoped for Reid’s sake that they had just jumped to conclusions and that they wouldn’t find anything on her. Now everything was pointing towards her.

“That’s more than enough for a probable cause,” Hotch sighed into the phone, sounding just as defeated as Emily felt. “Morgan and J.J., go to her address. Rossi, I want you back at the hospital. We still don’t know if she is or who she might be working with. If she knows we’re onto her, she might come after Reid. Until we find her and question her, I don’t want Reid to be left unattended. Stand outside of his room if he doesn’t want visitors, but no one comes into that room without anyone of us knowing what happens. And I mean no one, no nurses, doctors, not even the janitor or cleaning crew. Got it?” Hotch’s message was clear and everyone agreed verbally before ending the call. Emily decided to let Garica work for a little bit and went back to Reid’s room. She knocked softly on the door before opening it. Reid met her eyes with a fierceness in his.

“Look,” she said, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear and I’ll spare you the details… But this looks bad for her. We don’t know who she might be working with, so Hotch is adamant that we don’t leave you unattended. You may not like it and that’s fine. If you wanna be alone, then that’s fine too, I’ll just stay outside the door.” Emily had decided to just be frank with him. “In the mean time, do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” She asked, still not able to shake the tension between them.

“You’re still wrong about her.” Reid’s reply left no room for argument on that subject.

“I mean about whatever vendetta you have against me,” she clarified. Reid narrowed his eyes at her.

“No offense, Emily, but not everything is about you. On the contrary to popular belief I don’t carry grudges. My problem isn’t with you personally, it’s with all of you. I tell you that it’s not her, and you don’t believe me. I know her and my word, my credibility still means nothing to you.” He was getting agitated and she finally understood why. This wasn’t just about protecting the nurse, it was also about the team not trusting his judgement. Emily sighed.

“You’ve known her for how long? Less than a day? What if you’re wrong, Reid? Just what if?”

“I’m not.” His reply came not even a heartbeat later and his voice was certain. It was still too similar to a childish game, him not wanting to admit he might be wrong.

“Okay, I’ll bite… Say you’re right, there’s still things you don’t know about her. She’s not this amazing person you think she is. She’s got baggage, possibly more than you can imagine. She’s trouble, Reid, whether she’s the unsub or not.” Emily had no idea how much Reid knew about her, but she somehow figured out that if he knew everything then he would be more logical about this.

“She’s the best person I’ve met,” Reid said and she looked at him for a moment. Did he really mean that? Did she really have him so tightly twisted around her finger that he believed his own words to be the truth? By the confident look on his face, she guessed on yes to both questions. “But you’re right about one thing; I do want to be alone. Please, close the door behind you.” That was a clear sign that this discussion was over. Emily decided not to say anything else as she slipped out of the room.

She could only begin to imagine what Reid was going through. Emily didn’t have any relatives she spoke to, no friends outside of work. Her colleagues were her family, she loved them all dearly. If any of them got implicated for murder she probably would have lost her shit as well. Still, that got her to wonder what was going on between Reid and that nurse. She had seemed professional enough the few times she’d seen her, except for the time she’d caught her hanging out in Reid’s room for the better part of half an hour before she went home. What had that been about? Reid obviously didn’t know her that well, seeing as he claimed to have met her the night before. Maybe he felt attracted to her; she was pretty after all. But then again she wouldn’t take Reid for the guy to fall head over heels for a woman he’d barely met. This couldn’t possibly be love, she must have found a way to manipulate him.

“How’s the kid?” Rossi greeted Emily as he walked down the corridor twenty minutes later. Emily sighed heavily as he came to a stop next to her.

“Understandably upset,” she told him with a small shrug. “He’s… He’s actually pretty mad,” she said.

“He’ll get over it,” Rossi tried to assure her, but she could only shake her head.

“I’m afraid this could be a breakingpoint for him. No matter what happens from now on, Reid loses. Either this girl is a killer who’s managed to wrap him around her finger or she’s not… And I’m not sure which of them is worse,” she sighed as she spoke, not knowing how to feel about all of this.

“You don’t think it’s her?” Rossi asked, his voice slow as if he was being careful with what he said.

“It all fits,” Emily nodded. “But there’s some questions that need answers. This case is just all over the place and when one of our own is involved it just makes it… harder, you know?” She glanced up at the older man, finding him looking back with sympathetic eyes.

“Now you know how we felt last time you were involved.” He gave her a sad smile then and it made Emily’s stomach drop. She had realized that the whole thing with Doyle had been hard on the team, but that it had felt like this?

“I just hope Reid’s gonna be okay,” she mumbled.

“He’s a smart kid. He’ll pull through.” Rossi bumped his shoulder into hers, a small sign of comfort. Emily couldn’t exactly say that it helped, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. Just then her phone started blaring and she pulled it out of her pocket, noticing that it was Hotch.

“I’ve got Rossi here with me,” she spoke up after accepting the call.

“Morgan and J.J. came up empty-handed,” Hotch informed them, getting right to business. “They’re already headed back to the hospital. We can only assume that she didn’t leave at all or that she’s waiting for a chance to get to Reid. I’ve already called in reinforcement to guard his room, but in the meantime have Garcia on watchout. I want the two of you to do a sweep of the hospital, try to see if you can locate her. We have a warrant out for her arrest and I’m bringing it over as we speak,” he told them and that made Emily’s stomach tighten just a little more. They had enough probable cause to arrest her now. Before they could even agree to his orders he hung up the phone. Emily sighed, dropping the phone into her pocket again. She leaned forward a little, putting her hands on her knees as she tried to make sense of it all. She wasn’t in doubt that they had the right person, but something still felt… off. She couldn’t tell if it was the profile or just Reid’s feelings involved.

“Do you need a minute?” Rossi asked, his voice hushed next to her.

“Yeah, probably,” she nodded as a hand was placed on her hunched over back.

“I’ll go get Garcia,” he informed her before he disappeared down the corridor. Emily took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, push all doubt so far into the back of her mind that it couldn’t possibly bother her anymore. If she started doubting, she’d make mistakes and mistakes couldn’t be tolerated, especially not on a case involving one of her own. She owed it up to Reid to make this go as smoothly as possible.

Rossi returned with Garcia who they placed on a chair outside of Reid’s room. They didn’t dare ask him if she could sit in his room with him, so for right now they’d just have to make it work that way. Rossi and Emily started by talking to the nurse who was on call, simply asking if she happened to know when the unsub was coming back to work. She informed them that she wasn’t scheduled to work until the eveningshift the next day, and that she was supposed to work at the post operative unit instead of the ICU. Emily asked if that was normal, to work at two different units, to which the nurse only laughed saying something along the lines of “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get a permanent full-time position as a nurse? Most of us work in two different units, at least.”

They went down to the post operative unit next, just to make sure she hadn’t clocked in almost 24 hours earlier than when her shift started. They came up empty there as well. For the next fifteen minutes they did a quick search of three other units, asking different personnel if they’d seen her. Most people had no idea who she even was, which didn’t surprise Emily. It was a big hospital after all.

“Hang on a second.” Emily stopped Rossi’s pace as she glanced over at the doctor who was standing and talking to the officeworker by the lobby. She could vaguely remember seeing the unsub talk to him earlier that morning by the nursingstation in the ICU. The two had seemed close, as if they were friends or close colleagues at the very least.

“Excuse me.” Rossi must have noticed her train of thoughts because he approached the man. “Dr. Ruiz,” Rossi said once he was close enough to read the print of his lapcoat. “I’m Agent Rossi, this is my partner SSA Prentiss.” Rossi pulled out his badge and showed it to the man.

“We’re looking for Leah Clarewater, but we’re having a hard time locating her. Have you seen her?” Emily asked. She was surprised by the doctor’s reaction. More times than not, people would get nervous or upset when they came asking about friends and family. This man seemed… happy? Relieved?

“Well, that was quickly!” He exclaimed. “She’s down in the ER. I’m headed that way myself, so I can walk you down,” he told them. Emily gave Rossi a look, silently asking if he was noticing the strangeness as well. He only shrugged, so they followed the doctor.

“I saw you this morning. Have you been on call for long?” Emily found herself asking as they walked down a corridor.

“It was chaos here last night, masscollision on the highway. I got called in as an extra set of hands. I usually work in post op. but when it’s all hands on deck, it’s… Well, all hands on deck,” he laughed.

“Did Leah get called in as well?” Rossi asked as they reached the elevator.

“Yeah,” he told them, pressing the button which said -1. “Typically we don’t call in nurses, but Leah has a lot of extra training and she’s really good at what she does. Always handy to have around, you know?”

“She works in the post operative unit as well. Have you known her for long?” Emily asked as they stepped out of the elevator. Dr. Ruiz nodded.

“Yeah… For the good part… Three years, is it, now? Wow, how time flies. She’s one of the best I’ve ever seen, to be honest. Cares a lot about her patients, you know? And she’s really good at her job so she’s a thrill to be working with,” he told them. He clearly thought highly of her, just like Reid. This woman had managed to fool not only one, but two doctors. She almost deserved a medal for that.

“Good evening, Dr. Ruiz!” A petite blonde greeted as they made it to the ER. “Are you gonna be working here today?”

“Yeah, no… Not today, Cindy. I’m just looking for Leah, is she still here?” The doctor asked. Emily stood beside Rossi a few steps away from them, just watching the interaction.

“Yeah, she’s down there,” Cindy answered, pointing towards the end of the giant room where a shutter had been closed all the way. “She still refuses to go up to neuro, though. Dr. Charles insisted, but she refuses,” the nurse huffed a little, as if she was annoyed. What she said made Emily’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dr. Ruiz said and Emily noted the awardwinning smile he gave the nurse. He then turned towards herself and Rossi. “I’ll just need to check some files and then I’ll be over. You can talk to her if you want,” he informed them before walking over to the nursestation in the middle of the room. Emily shrugged at Rossi and started walking towards where the nurse had pointed earlier. She dragged the curtains open, revealing the blonde woman who was sitting at the end of the bed, feet dangling back and forth, head buried in her hands and what looked to be an icepack pressed to her forehead.

“Leah Singer Clarewater?” Emily asked, a little uncertain about what exactly was going on. The woman slowly lifted her head, looking up at the agents. She blinked a couple of times, even the movements of her eyelids slow and sluggish and now that Emily could see her face she got even more confused. Her nose was swollen and obviously broken by the way it was leaning towards the right. She had cottonballs sticking out of each nostril, the tips of them stained with blood. She was sporting a massive bruise on her left cheek, the skin there already turned a deep purple which matched bruising around her eyes. She also had a deep gash across her forehead which had a few badges over it to keep it shut. Her throat looked red and Emily could see the indications of handprints developing there. She looked like hell, to say the least.

“You’re… uhm, Dr. Reid’s friends,” she finally spoke up. Her voice sounded hoarse and nasal at the same time. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a few seconds, as if the light was hurting, before opening them. She seemed to have a hard time focusing on the people in front of her.

“We are,” Rossi simply stated, probably as confused as Emily was. He glanced at her, and Emily could only shake her head because the sight in front of her was not what she had expected to find.

“Look,” the nurse said slowly. “I’m off duty right now, and as you can see I’m in no shape to get back to work at the moment. Whatever he needs, there’s other nurses on call now who can help him.” Her voice was still slightly slurred as she spoke, as if she was drugged down or drunk. Emily assumed they had given her a cocktail of drugs for whatever pain she was in.

“Actually, we wanted to talk to you,” Emily pursed her lips together, not knowing how to handle the situation. This woman was still a suspect, but now might not be the best time to have this conversation. They still had a warrant for her arrest, but they couldn’t possibly arrest her right now when she looked like that. There was a lot of information missing here.

“You were with Reid the other night?” Rossi spoke up and that seemed to confuse her. Her eyes were even narrowed than they had been a second ago.

“Oh, right… Right, at the library,” she said as the memories seemed to come back to her. Emily wasn’t a doctor, but she could clearly tell that this woman was seriously concussed. She was in no condition to be having this conversation.

“We just want the stories straight, that’s all,” Emily said, leaving out the part of them thinking she was actually a serial killer. “But we can talk to you later if you’re not up for it right now,” she assured her.

“Later might be a good time,” Dr. Ruiz spoke up, startling Emily a little. She hadn’t even noticed him approaching. “Leah, we’re taking you up to neuro.”

“No, I’m fine,” she waved her hand dismissively and dropped the ice pack. She seemed to have sobered up a little bit since Emily and Rossi had walked in. “I just wanna go home, but I can talk now. Is this gonna take long?” She asked, pushing the doctors hands away as he tried to touch her.

“Leah, seriously,” The doctor tried to make her stay still, but she pushed him off yet again.

“Ruiz, I’m fine,” She jumped off from the bed, leaning down, probably to try to get her bag which was laying on the floor, and then collapsed forward. Emily was about to rush forward on instinct, but the doctor just barely managed to grab a hold of her. She still ended up sprawled out on the floor, but Dr. Ruiz had managed to lighten the fall so she didn’t smack right down.

“Can you give me some space, please?” The doctor asked looking up at Emily and Rossi. He was sitting on his knees besides Clarewater, one hand supporting the back of her head while the other one was pressed against her chest. Rossi and Emily immediately took a step back. They couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch as he pulled a small flashlight out if coat, forcing one of the nurse’s eyes open to check the reflexes.

“Fuck me, that’s bright!” She groaned, clearly not unconscious. She battled his hand away.

“Yeah, you’re totally fine.” Emily could almost hear him roll his eyes at her. He was so done with her bullshit, and in any other situation the two of them might have been adorable. He obviously cared about her, even though she probably annoyed him at times.

“It’s just a BP-drop,” the nurse scoffed. “Is it me or you who’s the doctor here?”

“It’s me, and that’s why you’re going up to neuro.” His voice was stern even as he helped her up on her feet. He gently sat her down on the bed, pushing on her shoulders until she reluctantly laid down. She made small noises of discontent all the time until she closed her eyes against the blinding overheadlight. “Leah, I’ll strap you to the bed if I have to. I have two federal agents here to back me up. We’re taking that trip to neuro whether you like it or not. Doctor’s orders.” That left no room for argument and Emily felt a small smile tug on the corner of her lips, despite the seriousness of the situation. They were like a pair of siblings or an old married couple fighting.

“Is it okay if one of us tags along so we can talk to her once she’s checked out?” Rossi asked once the scene in front of them calmed down.

“Be my guest,” the doctor said, waving another man forward, probably a porter. He picked up the bag from the floor and placed it on Clarewater’s stomach. He unlocked the breaks from the bed and the other man stepped forward, taking his place on the other side. “neuro’s a few floors up and I’ve already called ahead for a CT and MRI, so it might take some time. But if you wanna stick around, then that should be alright.” He informed them as the two men started pushing the bed forward.

“You go. I’ll call Hotch and tell him what’s happened,” Rossi told Emily who only nodded and moved forward to follow the moving bed down the corridors. She decided to stay silent as they traveled around the hospital. She waited outside of the room where the CT was placed, taking a seat in the chair. When the suspect, and yes she wanted to use the word suspect now since she had no idea how to read the situation anymore, was placed safely in the machine the doctor stepped out again. Emily offered him a smile as he took a seat next to her.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Emily asked.

“Leah? Yeah, sure,” Dr. Ruiz laughed. “She’s gotten a few blows to the head, so we’re just ruling out serious brain trauma. It’s probably just a bad concussion, but we have to make sure it’s not something more, you know?”

“I hope it’s not anything worse,” Emily offered her concern.

“Well, it’s Leah so she’ll be fine. She always is,” Dr. Ruiz shrugged. “Sorry you had to see that back there. She’s a really nice girl, but she can be stubborn. She’s this kind of person who always gives 110 percent, you know? I constantly have to remind her to take breaks, because she refuses. Says she hates breaks because she feels like she’s useless when she’s not doing anything. I always try to sneak some treats into her pockets, like proteinbars or something, because I know if I don’t then she’ll be running on adrenaline and coffee the entire day.”

“She seems invested in her work then,” Emily hummed. “You seem to really care about her.” She glanced up at him to see his reaction. He just smiled fondly.

“She’s the best, honestly. She’s kinda like my workwife,” he laughed.

“Oh, really?” Emily couldn’t help but chuckle herself.

“Yeah, whenever we work together things just flow so smoothly, you know what I’m talking about? I mean, she annoys me to death sometimes… mostly because she refuses to look out for herself, but she’s damn good at her job. And she’s a lot of fun to be around and we work really well together. The others down at post op. call us ‘dream team’ because of that,” he laughed again.

“Well, I can only imagine.” Emily felt a little bad about hearing him talk so highly of her when she was a suspect in a murderinvestigation. “So, you know her well then?”

“Not as well as I’d like to,” he muttered, a little sadness lacing his tone now. “I think she buries herself in work. I mean, we were both supposed to be on the morning shift for today, but I switched things around so I could get the eveningshift instead since I had to work the night. Leah is the kind of person who prefers to work doubles. I do that occasionally, too and let me tell you this; it drains you. I think she thrives on it, the more work she has to do, the more content she is, you know? But I think it takes a toll on her social life.” He cocked his head to the side with a little shrug. Emily nodded her head slowly to his words. She had nothing to say to that, because she didn’t know what to say.

“Do you know what happened to her?” She decided to ask instead, wondering what happened in order to give Leah those not so lovely bruises. She had her theories, but right now she had little to nothing to go on.

“No one really knows,” Dr. Ruiz shrugged. “Another employee was headed home and found her by her car in the garage. From what I heard she was unconscious and they brought her up to the ER to get checked out. I haven’t really had the chance to talk to her yet. I was headed down to see her when I ran into you guys.”

“Okay,” Emily nodded along and the doctor stood up from his seat. He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Are you a colleague of that federal agent who was admitted last night?” He asked. Emily nodded.

“Yes, and we’re investigating the case. That’s why we want to talk to your colleague, get the full picture,” she told him, leaving out the parts he didn’t need to know.

“Do you think the same person who shot your agent came after Leah?” He asked with a frown on his face. That thought had just crossed Emily’s mind as well, but she still couldn’t be sure. Perhaps the other unsub had lashed out on her. Dominant and submissive partnerships like that hardly ever worked out, especially if the dominant didn’t include the submissive in the whole process. Or if the submissive felt too subjected.

“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Emily offered him her best tight lipped smile.

“You know… We worked on him when he was rushed in, before he went into surgery. She probably doesn’t want to admit it, but she was pretty shaken up about it,” he told her. This time it was Emily’s turn to frown.

“Shaken up how?” She asked. This was news to her.

“You know, just upset I guess,” he tried to explain, but it didn’t bring any clarity. He must have noticed that Emily needed more because he continued. “Leah… she beats herself up over… pretty much anything. I mean, if she loses a patient on her watch she takes that personally, even though it’s not her fault or responsibility. That’s her only flaw, I guess. She cares so much, too much sometimes. And when stuff like this happens, the wheels keep turning. I guess she blames herself? For not being there. She said stuff like if she hadn’t got called in then maybe she would’ve left at the same time as your agent, and maybe he wouldn’t have gotten shot. I tried to tell her to forget about it, but I guess some things you just can’t leave alone,” he shrugged his shoulders. Emily could only offer him a sad smile. She understood it a little more. If this was the kind of person Clarewater made everyone believe she was then it wasn’t weird that she had Reid fooled. But the more she thought about it, the more it made her doubt that maybe this woman wasn’t putting on an act after all. But she couldn’t go there just yet. They still needed to see this through before they could even concidder dropping her as a suspect.

The doctor bid his farewell after that, telling her he had to get back to work. She offered her gratitude before he left, to which he simply replied to with a smile. As Emily waited for their suspect to be done with her check up, she called up Garcia, gave her a heads up about what was going on and told her to see if there was any surveillance by the employee parking. If Clarewater had been attacked there then maybe the cameras had captured her assailant on video. She was just about to call Hotch to let him know as well when she spotted him at the end of the hall. Morgan and J.J. were at his side so she waved them over.

“Dave told us what happened,” Hotch said as he approached. “Where is she?”

“They’re doing a few tests to rule out braininjury,” Emily said as she nodded her head towards the closed door. “She looked pretty beat up so I think it’s gonna take a while until we get to interview her.”

“Garcia just texted me and said she was attacked by her car?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded.

“That’s where she was found,” she confirmed. “Listen, Hotch… I just gotta say… there’s something off about all of this.”

“Yeah, I feel it too.” J.J. said.

“Everyone I’ve talked to so far today says she’s a good girl, has her traumas, sure, but the way they describe her… I just don’t think she’s the one we’re after.” Emily felt the need to be honest with her coworkers. There were times when they’d uprehend the wrong suspect or they had their profile all wrong, and no one liked those moments. But they still needed to play this right. “Could we have made a rushed decision here?” They all looked at Hotch to hear what he had to say. He looked a little uncertain as if he too had no idea what right move was.

“Morgan, I want you and Prentiss to head down to the garage. See if there’s anything there that might help us. J.J., I want you to check on Reid, see if Garcia might need a break. I’m taking Dave with me to the coroner’s. They’ve just re-exhumed Anthony Garland’s body to see if they can determine the cause of death. It appears it might take some time for Leah Clarewater to be ready to talk, but when she is, I want you to do it, Prentiss. You’ve talked to her coworkers, see if there’s anything that doesn’t add up with their stories versus hers. Take the garage first, though. I’ll let the doctors know we want to talk to her before she gets discharged.” Hotch’s message was clear and they all nodded their agreement.

Emily followed Morgan to the parkingstructure next to the hospital. When they got there local authorities and CSI were already on scene. Wow, these people worked fast. They flashed their badge and gave the unit chief a runthrough of why they were there. The floor which Clarewater’s car was parked on was surprisingly empty so it wasn’t strange that no one had seen what had gone down. Including Clarewater’s Emily could spot about fifteen cars when there was probably space for closer to a hundred.

“We think she was assaulted over here,” the unit chief said, pointing to the ground next to the driver’s side of the car. “We think the suspect came up behind her, smashed her head into the car a couple of times before throwing her to the ground,” he informed them and that seemed to be a pretty adequate guess. There was a dent on the edge by the roof of her car and some traces of blood. On the ground there were scuffmarks and a few smaller pools of blood.

“Sir.?” A voice from the other side of the car called their attention. “Found it in the glovecompartment.” The man who spoke was standing in the space between the open passangerdoor and the car itself. He had a gun hanging from the tips of his glovecovered fingers.

“What caliber is that?” Emily asked.

“It appears to be .45,” the man told her. Emily turned to look at Morgan.

“Our missing gun,” he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Chief, we have a murderinvestigation going on. Can you rush a ballisticstest on that gun to see if it matches?”

“Sure can do,” he told them. “But that gun’s probably the victim’s, though, since it was found in her car.”

“We’re aware,” Emily countered back, not offering any more information. He gave her a strange look, but didn’t say anything else on the matter. There wasn’t really much to do around the crime-scene, so Emily and Morgan decided not to hover for very long. They’d seen what they needed to and until they’d get the results from the various tests they had little to go on. They stopped by the cafeteria on their way, both in desperate need of fuel. They had been running different errands since the morning and Emily hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. They used half an hour or so for their break, briefing the rest of their team on their findings while eating.

“Do you think it was that nurse?” Morgan asked once they finally had some peace and quiet, even with noise of other people around them.

“Do you?” Emily countered back. She was still a little reluctant about sharing her thoughts.

“I mean, part of me wants to just so we have the right suspect. If it’s not her, then we’re not making any headway,” he shrugged. “But I have this… feeling, like something isn’t adding up.”

“It never really adds up, though,” Emily said. It was true, even when they were 100% certain they’d caught the right guy, there was always a minor detail or two which didn’t make sense to them. It usually always made sense to the unsub, but their logic wasn’t always rational.

“True, but still.” Morgan huffed before taking a sip of his coffee.

“I don’t think it’s her either,” Emily finally said, offering some sort of comfort in telling him he wasn’t the only one who experienced doubt in that moment. “She could be really manipulative with the people around her, but that doctor I talked to earlier… He said that she’d been really worried about Reid. And you can’t fake concern like that.”

“She could be worried about getting caught,” Morgan countered. This conversation really wasn’t going anywhere. They were just throwing out suggestions and the other one shooting them down. It wasn’t because none of them were right or wrong, it was just because none of them really had any idea if Clarewater was the unsub or not. And when they didn’t know for certain, no suggestion was right nor wrong. It was kind of like Schrodinger’s cat which Reid had once told her about.

“I just feel bad for Reid,” she mumbled, followed by a sigh.

“He’ll live,” Morgan shrugged nonchalantly, even though she knew he was just as concerned. “It’s Reid, he’ll pull through.”

“I sure hope so,” Emily said, staring at a blank spot over Morgan’s head as she absentmindly started picking at her cuticles.

“Hey, stop that now!” He scolded at her. “You’ll talk to her later and then you’ll know for sure. I trust your instinct. You can get the vibe whether a person is good or bad within a five minute conversation. If you think she’s the one, then she’s probably the one. If you don’t think she’s the one, then she’s probably not the one. Okay? Easy as that.” He put his hand on top of hers and she was grateful for the small gesture. It did sound awfully easy when he put it like that.

“Okay.” She nodded, offering him a smile to tell him she was good. “They haven’t called yet, so do you wanna head up and check on Reid?” Morgan’s smile brightened at that and he agreed. They put their mostly empty trays of food away, but grabbed their still full coffeecups on the way. When they got back to the ICU Emily noted that Anderson, another federal agent, had arrived and stood stationed outside of Reid’s room. They both greeted him before opening the door and walking inside. Through the window Emily had seen that both J.J. and Garcia were sitting by Reid’s bed so she assumed he had calmed down from his previous lash out.

“How you doing, kid?” Morgan asked.

“Fine,” Reid’s reply was short and simple. He probably still wasn’t in the mood for talking.

“He doesn’t want any updates on the nurse,” J.J. spoke up gently, carefully threading water. Emily’s phone vibrated in her pocket so she fished it out, seeing that there was a number she hadn’t saved. She excused herself before leaving the room. Accepting the call, she pressed the phone to her ear.

“This is Prentiss,” she answered.

“Hi! I’m calling from the Neurology unit at Inova Fairfax Hospital. My notes says that you wanted me to call you on an update with Leah Clarewater,” There was a man who spoke in a very high pitched voice, kind of like Reid’s.

“Oh, yes!” Emily answered. “Is she awake?”

“We decided to admit her for the night, just as a precaution. But she’s awake and coherent, so if you want to see her that should be fine now.”

“Okay, great! I’ll be right over!” Emily said before hanging up the phone. She poked her head in through Reid’s door before she left, just saying she was leaving for a few minutes. Reid hadn’t wanted to know anything, so she didn’t say where she was going. Morgan would know and that was enough.

The hospital was a maze, but she eventually found her way to Neurology. With the help of some lovely nurse she managed to locate Clarewater’s room which was at the very end of the hall. She knocked purposefully on the door, waiting a second before opening it. She poked her head in to see that the person she was looking for was laying down in the bed.

“Hey,” Emily greeted her as she closed the door behind her. “Do you remember me?” She asked as she took a seat in one of the empty chairs. Emily thought it was strange. Clarewater was in her own clothes which had a few stains of blood dried on them, there were no IVs or other kinds of medical equipment connected to her, nothing to indicate she was sick. While Reid had an IV hooked up constantly and a hospitalgown on he still looked far healthier than she did. It was just a funny thought.

“I do, but I must apologise for not recalling the name,” Clarewater sighed. She didn’t sound irritated, just tired. Emily could only imagine.

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. “My name is Emily Prentiss.”

“Okay,” the blonde mumbled. “Sorry, I’m just really dizzy and my head is kind of a mess so I probably won’t be able to remember that in, like, five minutes.”

“That’s fine,” Emily assured her.

“You, uh… wanted to talk to me about Spencer?” She lifted her head as if she wanted to look at Emily, but she was wearing a pair of dark, huge sunglasses so it was hard to meet her eyes. Emily took note that she referred to Reid by his firstname.

“Yes, but let’s start with what happened to you in parkinggarage.”

“I honestly don’t remember much.” The nurse leaned forward a little in the bed and rubbed her forehead with both her hands.

“Just tell me what you remember,” Emily offered.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I was just headed for my car when this guy came up behind me.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?” Emily asked. “Was he tall? Short? Bald perhaps? Did he have any tattoos? Do you remember anything that could help us find him?”

“He was, uhm… tall, I think? I mean, he was taller than me, but I’m, like, five-foot-two so basically everyone’s taller than me,” she explained. “And… um, I didn’t really see his face or anything. At least I don’t think so. I honestly can’t remember. Sorry, my mind’s a mess right now.” She looked up and even though Emily couldn’t see her eyes she knew she was looking sad about it.

“That’s fine. It’s normal not to remember everything right away. And you served some pretty bad blows to the head, so really… Don’t feel bad,” Emily offered her a genuine smile. “Let’s not focus on the details. Can you remember what happened? Was he behind you the whole time or was there a time where you were facing him?”

“No, he, uhm… He came up behind me and smashed my face into the car. Like, hard and repeatedly. Then he threw me down on the ground, on my back, and then he got on top of me. I think I must have closed my eyes or something, because I can’t actually remember seeing his face.” Clarewater explained.

“Are you sure? Try to think really hard.” Emily told her as she made mental notes as to what she was telling her.

“No, you don’t… It’s hard to explain. It’s not like I can’t remember what he looked like, it’s like I can’t remember if I saw him or not. I don’t know how else to explain it, sorry.” She chuckled a little at that before wincing and clutching a hand to her forehead again.

“It’s fine, we’ll come back to that.” Emily assured her. “What happened next?”

“Well, he… got on top of me and started strangling me. And I think I must’ve… fought back or something, because I scratched him and he didn’t like that. So he sorta… lifted me by the front of my shirt and slammed me back down, like, slamming my head against the ground. And he did that a few times and I think I passed out from that, because I… can’t really remember anything after that.”

“Wait, you scratched him?” Emily backtracked a little. That was the most important part of her story so far.

“Yeah, I… I think I must’ve,” she said, holding her hands out. Emily noted that her nails were clipped short, as a nurse’s nails should be, and there was a little blood and what looked like skin under a few of them.

“I’m gonna have someone come up later and collect a sample. There might be some DNA there which can help us find this guy,” Emily informed her and Clarewater dropped her hands again. “Do you remember anything else about him? Did he say anything?”

“Yeah, he… he did, but I don’t think it means anything.” She said with a shrug.

“What exactly did he say?”

“He said… He said ‘Heathens be heathens. Heathens be scapegoats’.” Her voice was slightly shaky as she spoke and that made Emily frown as well. What did that mean?

“And that doesn’t mean anything to you?” Emily asked.

“Why would it?” She scoffed. “I don’t know, that’s what he said.”

“Alright,” Emily nodded. “Do you need a little break?” Emily felt the need to ask. Clarewater seemed… a little shaken up, but fine considering all things. Most victims would be a crying mess halfway through telling their stories, but she wasn’t. She seemed noticeably upset, sure, but not nearly what Emily would expect. She still couldn’t tell if it was whatever medication she might be on or the concussion or if it was something else.

“I just wanna get this over with so I can get some rest.” Clarewater responded, sounding tired so Emily could understand her desire for sleep. “You wanted to talk about your agent?”

“Yes,” Emily said, still a little certain about how to proceed. “We just want to get the timeline right. So, we’re looking into everyone he saw before he got shot and everyone he-” she started explaining before she was cut off.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Clarewater shook her head a little, as if she was trying to grasp something. “What do you mean ‘looking into’?” She asked. Emily’s mouth fell open a little at the defensive tone the other woman had. “Am I a suspect? Is that what this is?” Emily could understand that she’d feel upset about the accusations, but she found herself growing frustrated as well. It was kind of like a defensemechanism for Emily.

“Look, here’s what I know,” She said, keeping her voice stern. “You were the last person to see Dr. Reid before he was shot-”

“I was already at work when he got shot!” Clarewater interrupted. She almost screaming and that must have hurt her head, but she didn’t show it.

“You’ve visited his room on multiple occasions after he got admitted, some of those visits unnecessary, won’t you say? You don’t seem the least bit concerned about what happened to yourself and you’re in a rush to get out of here. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that screams guilty to me and I don’t know what exactly you’re guilty for but I still have to follow all leads,” Emily told her and tried to look somewhat in the center of the sunglasses as if she was trying to maintain eye contact. She looked at her for a long moment before the woman eventually took the glasses off. She winced a little, shutting her eyes for a few seconds before opening them. She blinked a little against the light before she spoke up.

“Why would I shoot Spencer? I barely even know him. It doesn’t make any sense,” She said, her voice a more normal level now.

“Sometimes it just doesn’t make any sense,” Emily told her, keeping her voice in a lower tone to match the other woman’s. “Listen… Is it okay if I call you Leah?” Emily asked to which the other woman just shrugged. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. Me and my team, Dr. Reid included… We’re profilers. We investigate murders and other criminalcases and we evaluate the evidence. Based on that evidence we make a profile of what we think that killer is like, how they act, their education, social life, etcetera. And you do fit that profile, Leah. And I’m only telling you this because Reid… he thinks you’re innocent. So, I owe it to him to be honest with you so you can be honest with me.” Emily watched as her eyes glossed over. She looked genuinely upset.

“You said murder…” She trailed off at the end. “Is Spencer… Is he dead? He was fine when I left the ICU. God, please don’t tell me he’s dead.” She started crying then and that reaction put even more doubt into Emily’s mind. One thing was telling her that she was in the same room as the unsub they were looking for, another thing told her the opposite. It was a tough case, but she remembered Morgan’s previous words and she was adamant to leave that room with more answers than questions.

“Reid is fine, but we assume that whoever shot him might come back,” Emily decided to just be completely honest.

“And you still think that’s me?” Clarewater asked, sniffing through her tears. “You actually think I did this?”

“Prove it wasn’t,” was all Emily could say.

“Yeah, because how do I prove I didn’t shoot anyone?” She laughed darkly at that, even through her tears which were falling more rapidly now.

“How about you start with telling me why your reaction’s so off?” Emily offered. Right now that was the most pressing concern she had.

“Why? Because I’m not curled up in the corner like some baby and feeling sorry for myself?” She scoffed.

“That might be a good place to start,” Emily nodded. She watched as the other woman fiddled a little in the bed before moving to the end of it.

“I just… need to move around for a second,” she sighed, slowly getting up. Emily shot to her feet, afraid Clarewater would fall again. She didn’t go to grab her, just getting ready in case something were to happen. “I’m fine,” she assured her. Once Emily was sure she was actually okay to stand on her own she let the woman move freely.

“Take your time,” Emily said as Clarewater moved to stand by the window. She just looked out it for probably five minutes straight, her face was unreadable. She looked drained of emotions, completely numb.

“Are you gonna tell Spencer about any of this?” She finally asked after a long moment of silence.

“Do you want me to?” Emily asked back.

“No, I honestly don’t want him to know.”

“Alright, then whatever you say to me will not reach his ear. He’s off the case completely now, he said he didn’t want any involvement after we brought you up as a possible suspect,” Emily decided that if she was to get any answers she had to just be honest. She owed that to Reid and to Clarewater.

“He’s too good, you know?” She said, turning her head so she could look at Emily. She had a sad smile on her lips. Emily wondered what she meant by that. “So, you said you’re… profilers? Does that mean you… like, did a background check on me?”

“We did, yes,” Emily answered.

“So, you know about Sam?”

“That’s your brother, right?”

“Yeah,” Clarewater sighed, making her way over to the other chair which was on the other side of the bed. She slumped down in it. She looked… exhausted, there really wasn’t any other way of putting it. “I don’t know how much you know, but I was with him the day he disappeared. And I… just never stopped blaming myself for that. He had been right there. Right there! And in a split second he was gone. And I blamed myself and eventually the police gave up looking and then my parents started blaming me as well… And all this time I still wish it was me and not him. I never got to know what happened to him, but I can only imagine. And whatever horrible things he might have experienced, I still wish it was me and not him.” She explained and Emily felt a little bad for her. She could really understand her struggles, but that still didn’t give her a clear answer. “I don’t tell a lot of people that. Actually, I’ve probably never told anyone that. I’ve told some people about Sammy, though, just not… Anyway, I think it’s clear to say I don’t really care about myself. I mean, I’m not exactly stupid and I know that when people tell me it’s not healthy to have those thoughts, I realize that they’re right, but I just don’t care. I guess I care more about other’s than I do about myself.” She finished with a shrug.

“Leah, don’t take this the wrong way… but are you depressed?” Emily had to ask because the way she talked very much suggested that she was. Clarewater paused for a moment.

“Look, as I said I’m not stupid. I’m not gonna sit here and lie when I’m quite literary trying to clear my name. I don’t think I’m depressed, but then again most depressed people think that… but there’s a possibility. I… tend to bury myself in work rather than feel my… emotions, feelings whatever. I don’t like feeling vulnerable, I don’t like feeling sad and I realize that I do not exactly have a healthy relationship with my emotions… but I didn’t do this. I didn’t shoot Spencer. Enough people around me have been hurt and I don’t ever want to be the reason for that again.” Tears were streaming down her face again towards the end of her speech. Emily felt the urge to hug her, something she had never done before with a suspect.

“Leah, listen to me… You did not hurt your brother. You are not the reason he’s gone. I know it’s hard, but try to believe me when I say that you did nothing wrong. Nothing,” Emily spoke sternly, putting pressure on all the right words. Clarewater raised her eyes to look at her.

“So… Do you believe me?” She asked. “I would never hurt Spencer, at least not on purpose. I know I’m fucked up. Sorry for cursing, by the way. I know I’m messed up, but I wouldn’t go around shooting someone. And especially not Spencer. He… he’s possibly one of the best people I’ve ever met.” Emily had to smile at that last part.

“You know, he said the exact same thing about you.” She knew it wasn’t her place to tell, but she realized this woman needed to hear some positive words right now.

“He did?” Clarewater asked. Her eyes were still glassy. “So, you believe me?” And that was the question, wasn’t it. It had an easy answer now.

“Yes, Leah. I believe you,” Emily told her honestly. “I’m gonna be honest with you now and you need to hear this. The people we usually hunt, they’re like you. They’ve had a bad childhood or have some mental disorders, or something else to make them lash out… But not everyone who experiences trauma becomes killers. Some people are like you, they spend all their time and effort on helping others. You do need to remember, though, that you have to take care of yourself as well, okay?”

“I try…” Clarewater said in a hushed voice. “Or actually, that’s a lie. I want to try. I guess it’s just easier to take care of others than myself.”

“Maybe you should start by doing that, put yourself first?” Emily suggested.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, but Emily had a feeling she wouldn’t take that suggestion to heart. It wasn’t her place to say anything on the matter, not really, but oh how she wanted to. This woman had been through enough.

“I still have a few questions before we’re done, is that okay?” Emily asked, deciding it would best to just hurry things along so Clarewater could get some rest. “We found a gun in your car… Is there any reason you have it?” The woman fiddled a little in her seat, as if she didn’t quite want to answer the question. Emily actually believed that Clarewater wasn’t behind this, not anymore, but there were still so many questions and evidence still pointing towards her.

“Would you buy it if I said it’s for protection?” She asked, looking up at Emily through her lashes. “I want to be honest here, but I also really don’t want to get into detail about that… I bought the gun… years ago and it is for protection. I’ve never even fired it and it has nothing to do with Spencer so do I really have to go into details?” She looked genuinely uncomfortable, so Emily decided to let it go. But she still had some things to say on the matter.

“Hey, why you got it is actually none of my concern. It’s what you use it for that we’re interested in. I have to tell you this, since you’re still technically a suspect until we’ve ruled out everything, but we’re gonna test the gun, just to see if matches the gun we’re looking for. If it doesn’t, then there’s no problem here,” Emily informed her. She nodded shortly. “I also need to ask you about last night. We just need to hear your side of what happened after you left the library.”

“I uhm… I was just trying to read this book at the library. And I know this is probably gonna make me sound… even more suspect, I guess, but I’m hardly ever there. I just… lately I’ve been having a lot on my mind and I already explained how I am with emotions… I just couldn’t be at home alone, so I decided to just… head out. So, I went to the library and apparently I left my card by the printer. Spencer found it and returned it to me since I was still there,” she explained. Emily nodded for her to continue. It didn’t make her more of a suspect in her eyes, especially since she now believed closer to 90% that this woman wasn’t who they were looking for. “We got to talking, because… You know, he seemed nice. We didn’t really talk that much, because I got called into work around… I’m sorry, I know when they called and I know when I arrived, but my head’s still kind of a mess.”

“We checked and you clocked in at nine-fourty-eight,” Emily offered. Garcia had checked earlier.

“Yeah… that sounds about right. I always clock in the minute I walk into work. And if I remember correctly then they called around half something, so probably nine-thirty. It’s in my phone, so I can just check to make sure.” She said.

“No need, that seems to fit with the timeline.” Emily respond. “So, let’s say it took you around fifteen minutes to get from the library to work, does that sound right to you? You didn’t make any stops along the way?” The team had already checked this, estimating that with the light traffic so late at night it would probably take about ten minutes to drive that distance, and given the time it would take to park, get from the parking garage, change clothes and clock in fifteen-twenty minutes seemed more than plausible.

“No, I just headed straight in. They said it was an all hands on deck situation, so I got here as fast as I could.” She answered.

“Alright, that seems to match our timeline.” Emily told her. “I think that is enough for right now.”

“That’s… it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Emily offered the most reassuring smile she could muster. She had everything she needed. Sure, they’d have to wait for the ballisticstest on her gun to come back, but she already assumed that wouldn’t be a problem. “As I said before, we’re still going to check your gun, just a procedure. But if the test comes back negative then we can officially drop you as a suspect.”

“So… you actually believe me? This isn’t some kind of trick is it? Because I’ve been nothing but honest and if this-”

“Leah, I believe you.” Emily interrupted her, leaning forward in her seat a little. “Okay? I believe you.” She said it again, just to make sure Clarewater understood that she was genuine. Her initial response was to let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” she breathed out, her eyes watering a little again. “I mean, I shouldn’t be thanking you for not thinking I’m some lunatic who just goes around shooting random people, but… thank you.” Emily couldn’t help but laugh at that and suddenly she could see why Reid likes her so much.

“There’s no need to thank me, Leah. I just wanted answers and you were honest with me. That’s all I needed to know.” Emily shrugged.

“But you still thought I did this… and I still swear I didn’t, but doesn’t that… like, leave you back to square one?” Clarewater asked.

“It kind of does,” Emily agreed. “But we’ll catch whoever is behind this.” That caught Clarewater’s attention.

“Do you think whoever shot Spencer might be the same person who attacked me?” Emily had to purse her lips a little.

“It’s a theory,” she said. “But you being the person who shot Reid was also just a theory. So, it might just be a theory and nothing more than a theory.”

“I’m still a mess and that was a lot of ‘theory’s in the same sentence.” Clarewater said while shaking her head, looking a little lost. Emily found herself chuckling again. “But I think I got the point.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, a little sheepishly. “I should probably let you get some rest now. It’s been a long day for you, so remember what I told you about trying to take care of yourself, okay?” She nodded, but Emily still had her doubts about wether she’d actually listen to those words.

“I’m sorry, but what was your name again? I know it was something on ‘E’, I just think my brain is shutting down now.” Clarewater asked.

“Emily.” She smiled.

“Is it okay if I call you Emily or do you prefer Agent… something else I don’t remember.” Now that Clarewater was unofficially ruled out as a suspect Emily realized that she started to like her.

“Emily is just fine.” She replied.

“I know this is gonna sound really inappropriate, but can I hug you?” That was a really inappropriate request, but one that Emily couldn’t find it in herself to deny. So, she rose from her seat and the other woman met her halfway. They embraced and it wasn’t this earthshattering experience. There was no crying on the shoulder, no messing up make-up, just a comforting hug. But Emily found it that she had needed a hug just as much as Clarewater had.

“You try to get some rest, okay?” Emily said, stroking the other woman’s back a final time before stepping back. “I’m gonna have someone come in soon so they can collect the DNA-sample from your fingernails. And we might have some more questions for you later regarding your own assault, but for tonight I think you should just rest. Is that okay?” Clarewater nodded and went back over to her bed. She laid down in it, drawing the blankets around her.

“Hey, uhm, Emily?” She asked just as Emily was about to leave.

“Yeah?”

“You said if I remembered anything?” Clarewater started. “The man who attacked me… I’m pretty sure he was an addict or something.”

“What makes you say that?” Emily frowned.

“Or maybe not addict, but he was really irrational. When he… said those words, he said it when he was slamming my head into the ground. And he… Well, he was so angry, but his voice was calm. It was like his body was full of rage, but his mind wasn’t, if you know what I mean?” Clearwater explained and Emily did. “He just… he wasn’t sane is what I’m saying. I guess that’s something important for you to know.”

“It is.” Emily assured her. “It really is. Thank you, Leah. Now if there’s anything else, no matter how small the detail may be, then call me, okay?” Emily picked a card out of her pocket and left it on the nightstand before deciding she had occupied enough of Clarewater’s time.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “You’ll look out for Spencer, right? He’s a good guy.”

“Of course we will. He has a whole team behind him who cares about him very much.”

“That’s good. He deserves that.” Clarewater smiled once more and Emily took that as her que to leave. She almost didn’t even get out of the room before she called someone to collect the DNA-sample, feeling like that might answer one question if they’d get a match. Even though she walked out of Neurology feeling ten times lighter, she still felt like the more answers she’d gotten, the more questions popped up.

She returned to the ICU to find Morgan standing outside of Reid’s door, phone to his ear. She decided to wait for him to finish talking, so she started a friendly conversation with Anderson.

“What’d the girl say?” Morgan asked once he’d hung up.

“I don’t think it’s her.” Emily sighed, getting right to the important part.

“Well, ballistics agree with you.” He informed her and Emily’s eyes went wide.

“You got the report already?”

“Well, I told the chief to put a rush on it and what can I say? They really put a rush on it.” He laughed. Emily felt even lighter now.

“So, the gun didn’t match, then?” Emily asked, just to be sure.

“No. That was the gun expert I just talked to. He said he didn’t even need to test it since the gun hadn’t been fired in a while. He actually concluded that the gun had never been fired. But he did a testround anyway just to be sure and it doesn’t match.” So, Clarewater really had been telling the truth. Not that Emily had doubted that after the heart to heart they’d had, but it was good to have a solid piece of evidence as well.

“So, does that mean we can rule her out then?” Emily asked and Morgan shrugged.

“I mean, we still gotta brief the rest of the team and hear what Hotch has to say, but to me it’s a pretty straight case. We have no evidence tying her to any of the shootings or murders, we’ve all had mixed feelings about her, your good peopleknowing skills speak in her favour… And Reid’s as well. I say she’s no longer a suspect.” Morgan shrugged and Emily had never once in her life been so relieved that they’d caught the wrong person.

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@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @wooya1224 @haylaansmi

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x ofc #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fic #bau #spencer reid imagine

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Text

Thicker Than Water (Part 4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

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He awoke sore and badly rested, tears dried on his face.

Jaskier made it through the next day. He ate a little of the food Ciri offered him, only because when he tried to decline the first time her eyes got large and her bottom lip showed just the barest hint of a tremble. He couldn’t bear it. The dry horse bread that was usual for traveling rations crumbled in his mouth. He was so hungry, it was one of the best things he’d ever tasted.

Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to even unsling his lute from his shoulder during their trek. His fingers itched to play, of course. He continued his story for Ciri and in his mind he played music for the background, he just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t sell his lute in this next town, but before they reached Kaer Morhen he would have to. It would give them money, and he wouldn’t be a burden. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued telling Ciri the story.

He noticed a bit before mid day that Geralt was watching him. That wasn’t out of sorts, of course. Yennefer and Ciri were watching him too, he was an excellent storyteller and the tale was enthralling. Geralt didn’t seem to be paying attention to the story though. He was staring-- glowering--brow low and furrowed, at Jaskier.

Jaskier felt hurt lance through him and he almost staggered, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. He knew Geralt didn’t want him along, didn’t want him at all, but he couldn’t even pretend? He couldn’t go back to their relationship before? Not the warm, almost companionable silences that had been nurtured between them, but the grunts and stone faced silence of the beginning of their acquaintance.

Jaskier breathed through the pain in his chest. Twenty years of silences, all kinds of them, stony and friendly and sleepy and painful and quietly nice. But they were back to the beginning, or worse, Geralt angry and Jaskier’s voice filling in places it didn’t belong.

“Jaskier?”

That was Ciri, and Jaskier realized that he’d actually trailed off mid-sentence.

“Sorry little highness,” he smiled and gave a funny little bow. “I’m but a simple entertainer, a poet and a fool, sometimes my mind runs away from me.”

“Fool is right,” Yennefer snorted. It wasn’t totally unkind, but it still stung. It stung even more when Geralt, so taciturn all day, snorted with laughter at her comment. Jaskier felt his ears burn and his chest ache.

“Now, where was I?”

“The king’s son met the North Wind,” Ciri said, matching Jaskier’s steps. “And he has to beat him in a game of wit to gain knowledge of where the sorcerer’s daughter was taken, that’s what you said, but you didn’t tell us what game yet.”

At least someone treasured his words, Jaskier thought. Although they weren’t worth much, he threw one out after the other.

Like garbage, whispered the back of his mind.

“Ah yes,” he said instead. “the North Wind sat before the king’s son, and laid out a chess set made of ice and wind.”

“How can chess pieces be made of wind?”

Jaskier smiled, Ciri asked questions at all the right places. “The North Wind wanders, he goes everywhere, blowing cold breath across The Continent. When the North Wind is present and we breath our breath can be seen.” Jaskier smiled here and added an aside, “My little sister used to call it dragon smoke. But by the same magic that gives the North Wind a body to walk the world, he can take our frozen breath and turn it cold and solid as glass.”

Jaskier let himself tell the story on autopilot. His feet ached. He’d been darning the socks he was wearing for a year or more, but he wasn’t good at it and the lumps were rubbing his toes raw. Worse than that, the soles of his boots were almost worn through. Just one more thing he’d have to buy.

He felt ashamed of himself. His boots had been going thin for a while, and instead of saving his coin and getting them repaired or just buying new ones, he’d drowned himself in drink, feeling sorry. Oh, he hadn’t known he would be making a trip up a mountain, but he needed boots regardless. No wonder Geralt had always been upset with him, he always put pleasure over sense, couldn’t even spend coin sensibly.

Couldn’t darn socks, couldn’t budget his coin, couldn’t shut up. A fool.

He stumbled on a tree root and nearly swore. Couldn’t even walk right. One of the blisters building on his foot had burst, he was sure. It was easy to tell, the pain had gone from a rubbing ache to stinging and warm. Only years of practice and performance kept him from interrupting the story.

Something must have shown on his face though, or his scent changed or whatever because Geralt was staring at him intently. That face, always so unreadable.

Jaskier wasn’t going to give him anything else to scowl about. He kept walking, keeping the story rolling and his voice light. His bones ached. He had to stop for just a moment when a button, long past hanging loosely on his doublet, finally pulled free. He picked it up and the head rush nearly took him to the ground. He’d eaten little, slept poorly, and the only food he’d had in a long time before this was ale. He blinked the grey from his vision, trying not to let the panic show when it didn’t go away as quickly as he’d have liked.

It was okay. It was all going to be okay. They’d make it to the village by nightfall. They wouldn’t sleep there of course but he could get proper food. Maybe even slip away and catch a quick nap in a stable or hayloft or something. His whole body was buzzing with a sort of exhausted energy and his heart was pounding.

Jaskier reflected that he hadn’t been well before meeting up with Geralt and his little family. He’d been sick with drink and heartache and had not enough food then too.

Smile through the pain.

This wasn’t even bad as performances could go. Once he’d actually broken a finger just before a set at Oxenfurt. Simple clumsiness, he’d closed his index finger in a door, but he’d played his whole set, with a perfect score from his professor.

It grew darker, the sun just setting when they reached a field at the edge of the town. It was a large open field and, in warmer months, it was likely home to fairs and large market days. Probably in these rural areas people traveled for a week to bring their goods and livestock to this town. It didn’t matter now, mid autumn settling into late autumn. To Jaskier the town was nameless.

They set up camp in the field. It left them exposed to being seen, but they hid themselves behind a small rise on the edge of the field, blocking them mostly from sight. Still, Geralt seemed on edge. Jaskier wasn’t sure it was about the camp. Geralt kept looking over at him with his eyebrows pressed together. Whenever he did that it formed this little crease right between his brows that Jaskier wanted to kiss away.

Jaskier bit his lip, hard, to focus on anything other than that.

The three of them sat, too tired to talk much more. Jaskier had finished most of the story and decided to leave the rest for the next day they were traveling a lot, to give Ciri something else to think about. She was definitely Calanthe’s blood. They traveled all day and she never complained, but also told them when she needed to stop, advocating for herself in no uncertain terms. It was the princess herself who interrupted his thoughts.

“You said you had a sister, do you have lots of siblings?”

“Not really,” Jaskier said, settling down on the ground and feeling his bones pop. His blisters were definitely bleeding inside his boots too. “Two older brothers, Henrik and Teodor, and I had a younger sister, Lotte.”

“Had?”

“She was sickly, always too small for her age,” Jaskier said quietly. “I learned the lute for her, at first. She liked music and was often bedridden. A fever took her when she was about your age.” Jaskier looked down at his battered boots.

“I’m sorry,” Ciri whispered.

“It’s allright little highness, it’s been almost thirty years now. Time flies.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Geralt said. It was growly, but Geralt always used that tone.

“You never really asked.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jaskier ate the last of the rations in his pack, waving away Ciri’s offerings and showing her his food as proof that he had some. It didn’t really settle the hunger that had been eating him from the inside out all day, but at this point he figured he could eat a mountain and still have room for dessert.

“Tomorrow,” Geralt said gruffly once dinner was cleared away. “We don’t all enter the town as a group. Yen and Ciri go together. I go alone. Jaskier goes alone.”

Jaskier nodded, so did Ciri and Yennefer.

“If we see eachother, act as though we don’t know eachother,” Geralt said, then he turned his gaze on Jaskier. “Don’t attract too much attention.”

Jaskier bristled at getting his own private reprimand. “I’m a bard, Geralt,” he said. “How am I supposed to earn coin if I don’t play.”

Geralt grunted. “I didn’t say don’t play just no... don’t do the whole...” he gestured a vauge hand.

“The whole...me?” Jaskier said sarcastically. He was pulling at the lion’s tail he knew, but he was in pain and tired and hungry and Geralt had no right to be so cruel.

“The whole bright colors, loud and annoying thing. Country bard, not court bard, got it?”

Loud and annoying.

“Got it,” Jaskier said, looking back down at his boots. He didn’t say that none of his clothes could have passed for courtly anymore anyway.

They set about getting ready for bed. Ciri gave him a quick hug before she and Yennefer disappeared into their magical tent. Jaskier sat and pulled off his boots, not letting a single flicker of pain show on his face. He knew Geralt would be able to smell blood, but Geralt had gone to get water from the nearby river. He had to peel his socks off and yes, there was blood there, by now stuck into the threadbare fabric. He let himself wince then. He rinsed off the wounds but he was without bandages, so he just dried off the area and put his other pair of socks on. He only had the two pairs anyway, but at least the blisters would stay dry.

He rolled himself into his bedroll and thought of tomorrow. At least there were no tree roots here.

The next day dawned slowly, instead of bright pinks and oranges it was a kind of runny yellow that just leeched into the sky before fading into early morning blue. Jaskier watched in admiration as Yennefer changed Geralt’s hair to short and dark, and then gave herself brown eyes and a slightly different bone structure. To look at both of them was odd, because Jaskier could see the similarities. Yennefer’s nose was changed and her cheekbones were a little different, but it was still her, and Geralt just looked like a different, although quite handsome, version of himself. Ciri was simply given mousy brown hair and some extra freckles.

Just like that, the perfect and all powerful family looked like two normal people and one witcher who was still clearly a witcher but not the white wolf. Jaskier shouldered his lute. He’d cleaned up the scruff he’d been growing into a more respectable look and with his longer hair and tatty cloak he looked like any poor traveling musician. If he’d traded the lute for a shortbow he could have looked like a woodsman, totally nondescript.

He was entering from a different direction, so as not to arouse suspicion, and so was Geralt. Jaskier began walking around, so that he could enter from the east. Yen and Ciri would walk into town the closest direction, and Geralt was entering from the west. This early, it was unlikely they would have been seen all together.

Jaskier made his way to the eastern edge of the town and walked in, scanning the streets. If this were a farm people would be up and awake long before now, farmers wake well before dawn, but this was a town, and so few people wandered the streets. Shop keepers were just beginning to open up. Jaskier bought a couple pears, slightly overripe but cheaper because of it, off of a fruit seller and had breakfast. He tried to lock into his mind all the shops around so he could find his supplies easiest later.

His mind was resisting him though. In spite of the softer ground, Jaskier had still slept badly last night. His body ached and he wished he could find somewhere warm to lay for an hour or two. Instead he found the well.

As wells should be, this one was right in the center of town. He set down his lute case beside it, tuned his lovely lady, and began to play.

In his very first few months after leaving Oxenfurt he had learned this trick, and used it often. If you get into a town early, play at the well. People get their water first thing in the morning and there you are.

A few young women with yokes and buckets smiled at him and he nodded in return. The day brightened a little further as the sun crept above the buildings and more people came to gather in the town square. They weren’t there to hear Jaskier, not at first, most of them came for water, or to chat with neighbors, or discuss business. Many of them gathered around him though.

Coins clattered into the case. Mostly coppers, but in a little town like this that was quite normal.

“As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, A sudden strange fancy came into her head. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love,” he sang.

“So early next morning she softly arose, And dressed herself up in her dead brother's clothes. She cut her hair close, and she stained her face brown, And went for a soldier to fair Rinde Town.”

Sweet Polly Oliver was one of his favorites, a simple country song about a girl and her lover in wartime. This town was far enough north that with luck Nilfgaard wouldn’t attack, but the anxiety threatened.

Jaskier gave a good performance, perhaps not his best, but he was tired and cold and the flagstones beneath his feet were very hard. He danced about, playing sweet folk songs and jigs and reels, delighting in the people who swept up and danced along. Still, though, he felt his feet bleeding inside his boots. He played from just after dawn until perhaps an hour after noon before bowing away and taking his coin.

He’d done better than he’d expected, but there wasn’t nearly enough coin for all the things he’d need for Kaer Morhen, and extra food to help Geralt and Ciri. He’d buy what he needed now, and they’d stop again in Ard Carraigh before the keep. He’d sell his lute there, it was a large city, and he’d get a good price. The thought still made him ache, though.

It wasn’t just his emotions causing him pain, he realised. The aches he’d been experiencing were in his chest lately, and both physical and emotional. He just needed more rest.

Jaskier slipped through back alleys and bent streets. He’d seen a stable on his way into town. He stepped in quietly, startling a stable hand, no more than a boy, who’d been quietly talking to a horse.

“You’re the bard,” he said. “Saw you in the square jus’ this morning.”

“That’s right,” Jaskier said, bowing a little. “I’m afraid I’ll be moving on this evening and--”

“And you want to have a kip in the stables,” said the boy. “Yeah lots o’ musicians and peddlers do that. Rule is though, I got to get a coin off ‘em first as payment. I’m sorry, but I get a beating if’n I don’t.”

“No worries,” Jaskier said, he’d expected as much. He handed the boy two copper coins. “There’s pay, won’t have you getting beaten for my sake, the second coin is to wake me in two hours.”

The boy gave him a lopsided grin. “You got it sir, thanks.”

Jaskier snuggled up in the hay loft. He’d often done it, it was pretty common, if you couldn’t buy a stay at an inn or especially if you just needed a ‘kip’ as the boy had said, during the day. He’d slept in haystacks once in a while on the road too. They were sort of comfortable and surprisingly warm and, best of all, robbers didn’t get you if you kept yourself mostly under the hay.

The scent of hay and oats and horses lulled him to sleep.

He dreamed about haystacks. For some reason Roach was in the haystack with him. Geralt and Ciri too, even Yennefer. It was a crowded haystack indeed, and it grew smaller and smaller until Jaskier had to leave it and sleep on the ground so that the others weren’t squished.

He awoke to the stable boy nudging him.

“Pardon me mister,” he said. “But it’s been two hours.”

Jaskier thanked him and brushed off his clothes.

The shops were doing a good trade this afternoon and he’d be sure to be a face in the crowd. He bought a small cooking pot and plenty of ground oats and barley for porridge at one shop. They were light to carry and owner packaged them nicely, first in one cheap, cloth drawstring bag, and then in another such bag, but with the drawstring on a different side, so he was unlikely to lose food.

In another stall he bought plenty of nuts, walnuts were cheap here and would keep well. Good for traveling and they had protein. Some dried jerky, dried peas, and dried lentils finished his food shopping, and also most of his coin.

It was three days to Ard Carraigh, another week to trek up to the keep. The food would sustain him for that long, and they’d probably just pool their food to make sure everyone was fed. Still, he wasn’t being a burden, not too much.

He couldn’t afford new boots, gloves, or a cloak right now, but with the last of his coin he bought a new pair of thick, warm socks, a small roll of bandages, and a couple pieces of candied ginger in a little paper twist. He tucked them all away and left the town, disappearing back to the field and their little camp well before the sun set.

Jaskier’s heart sunk to see that he was the last to arrive. Everything was packed up, they couldn’t risk staying in the same place two nights in a row. Geralt grunted at him, but didn’t unleash any thoughts on Jaskier being a burden, so he counted himself lucky.

He hung his head a little at having delayed their parting and trekked after the perfect little family, his pack much heavier than it had been. Ciri slid her hand into his and they walked on in silence. The hand was nice though.

In an odd way, it hurt, too. He wasn’t part of the family, so he didn’t really deserve this, but it was painfully good to have just a taste of being wanted.

What would happen, he wondered, when the winter was over. He was a danger to Geralt and Ciri if Nilfgaard found him. He wasn’t wanted by Geralt at all. Jaskier was reminded once again that it would be so much easier for Geralt to kill him, or for Yennefer to wipe his memory. Maybe he could fake his death to get Nilfgaard of his trail.

“Jaskier?” Ciri asked. “How did you become a bard?”

Jaskier looked down at her, maudlin thoughts interuppted. “Oh, well, it’s not as though you have to register, you just become one. Walking into an inn and saying ‘let me play for you pretty please I need food’ is a good start.”

“No,” Ciri giggled. “I meant, you said you learned the lute for your sister, but you write your own music and stuff too.”

“Oh, well, anyone can write music if they have an instrument and a good enough memory,” Jaskier said. “Indeed, many of the greatest bards had little education at all, I, however, studied at Oxenfurt.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sometimes. It was school, and some parts were dull but I learned much.”

“I heard some of the maids giggling once about a young scholar who’d come to stay with us,” Ciri said, matter of factly. “He was always in the library and was kind of snooty with me when I asked questions, but the maids were saying he certainly had a lot of ‘carnal knowledge’. Did you study that too?”

Jaskier was choking on thin air.

“I, um, no it was more of a hobby,” Jaskier said before his head could catch up with his mouth. “Little Highness, I suspect you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation, and no, I studied the seven liberal arts.”

“So it was about sex, I was never sure,” Ciri said.

Jaskier coughed awkwardly. “Yes, princess.”

“It’s okay, I know about that stuff, Grandmother explained it.”

Jaskier let out a breath, at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to explain anything to her.

“When you went to school were you scared to leave your family?” Ciri asked.

“No, pet, I was excited to go,” he wasn’t about to get into all his trauma with her, she had enough of her own, poor thing. “I couldn’t wait to learn about music and poetry.”

“Grandmother said all poets were silly romantics and dreamers, but I think that sounds nice. Do you have a moose?”

“A what?”

“I read it in a book, a moose, somebody you love and you write about it.”

“Oh, that’s one of the trickier words Ciri, it’s said ‘muse’, and yes, I had one or two.”

“Only one or two? In the book the poet had hundreds,” Ciri sounded almost disappointed.

“I only ever needed one,” Jaskier said quietly. “One that mattered anyway.”

“And your Countess still left you,” Geralt said, rather coldly. He was doing his annoyed face and Jaskier could have kicked himself. He’d been talking too much. The reminder that the Countess de Stael had left him too hurt, but Jaskier wasn’t going to risk Geralt’s ire to say that she wasn’t the muse he was talking about. That was maybe something he should keep to himself.

“Do muses often leave?” Ciri asked, wide eyed. “If somebody was writing me poetry I wouldn’t want to.”

“No, usually the poet does the leaving,” Jaskier said. “After his muse asks him to go. There’s a shelf life on a bard, you know. We only have so many stories and songs before we’re used up and no one wants us around anymore. That’s when we move along.”

“I’ll hear your stories again and again,” Ciri said. “I won’t ask you to go.”

Jaskier’s heart curled up and whimpered inside his chest. He’d have to go sooner or later, he’d have to leave her. Geralt would get sick of him, too sick to bear even for Ciri’s sake. Or Jaskier would just have to leave of his own volition, lest he shovel shit into her life too.

If he could give her life one blessing...

“This’ll do for a campsite,” Geralt said. It was a tiny, clear area. Jaskier almost groaned. It was surrounded by oak trees, with dropped acorns that would dig into his bedroll and mottle his back with bruises come morning. He’d had a good rest in town, though, so another bad night of sleep wouldn’t be too bad, he told himself.

The others had eaten in town. Jaskier said he had too, so he wouldn’t waste rations. He had plenty, but strangely, he wasn’t so hungry lately. Anyway, always best to save.

He pulled off his boots and his freshly bloodied socks. Ew. Ciri retired to the magic tent early, exhausted from their long days of walking. Jaskier listened to Yennefer and Geralt talk.

“We’ll need lots of supplies in Ard Carraigh,” Geralt was saying.

“We don’t have any money,” Yennefer replied.

Jaskier had his back to them as he cleaned the wounds on his feet, but he could picture grave expressions.

“We’ll get some, I’ll do a quick contract there, something. We’ll need a cart and pony to get Ciri up The Killer, it’s too much for her, it’s too hard for some witchers even.”

“That’ll cost,” Yennefer said. “But you’re right. I wish I could portal us but--”

“Tracking, exactly. There’s always plenty of contracts in cities, it’ll be fine.”

Jaskier looked at the blisters on his foot, they’d opened more with his long performance that day. It was no matter, he wound the bandages around them and put on his new, thick socks. At least his feet would be warm.

Not too warm, though. He spotted a hole in the bottom of his boot that he hadn’t noticed before.

And they needed lots of money for Ard Carraigh. No matter. He knew how to get some.

He pretended his eyes filled with tears from the pain of blisters, not from heartache, as he pushed his feet back into his boots and opened the lute case. He pulled out his beautiful girl. He wouldn’t play her, it would annoy Geralt. He’d always hated Jaskier’s music, although he hated to hear Jaskier sing even more.

Pie with no filling.

Jaskier wished he could play her, though. It was going to break his heart to part with her, and he didn’t think he’d ever played another instrument as fine. If he could, he’d play her every second until he had to sell her.

Probably for the best, though, if he was going to fake his death. She was distinctive.

He brushed a hand over the beautiful wood work on her front. There was a little bit of linseed oil left, and he poured it on the rag he kept in the case and began to work over his girl lovingly. His eyes teared up again, but he fought it back. He would have smashed his lute if it meant helping Ciri. And Geralt.

Jaskier longed for Geralt to forgive him, to take him back and let him stay by his side, but he’d meant what he’d said, bards have a shelf life, and Jaskier’s time was up.

He wished Geralt would at least speak with him, though. His heart was aching. In a completely different sense, so was his chest.

“Play us a tune, bard,” Yennefer said.

Jaskier turned around. Yen and Geralt were sitting beside eachother, close together. She looked so beautiful in her fine cloak that Jaskier wondered how he ever thought he could catch Geralt’s eye when beings like her existed.

“You know,” he said. “It’s late and I wouldn’t want to bother Ciri.”

“Tent’s soundproof,” Yennefer said, waving her hand.

“I mean, really,” Jaskier protested weakly. Disobeying Yennefer’s request/command was like bathing your brain in lava, but Geralt was looking angry again. Some would say there wasn’t much change from Geralt’s normal expression, but Jaskier knew his face better than he knew his own. Something had made Geralt angry or upset. The only possible answer was Jaskier. It was always Jaskier.

“Play us a song, bard,” Yennefer said. “You’ve been so quiet other than stories, I’d almost think you were a doppler, Melitele knows no one could have taught you to shut up.”

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat.

He began, slowly, to pick out a gently tune on his lute. It was a song about winter and home, and he knew the lyrics well. Yennefer had only asked him to play, so he would. His music was at least less offensive than his voice.

He reveled in the feel of his lute beneath his fingers, letting the feeling wash over him, committing it to memory.

When he was finished Yennefer said, “I suppose your voice was tired from your performance, I heard in the town how the bard had played such a long set.”

Jaskier smiled grimly back at her. “Just earning my keep.”

He went to bed, feeling the cold seep into his bones.

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Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @gryffinqueen

@samukai @charlies-dragon I can’t seem to tag, but they’re on the list

#geraksier #adhd Jaskier #the witcher #angst #jaskier #geralt #yennefer #ciri #platonic yennalt #yennefer is a good mom #and deserves nice things #kaer morhen #soon but not yet #emotional hurt/comfort #just hurt now #the comfort is yet to come

158 notes · View notes

wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [1]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Word count: 4,863

↳ Chapters: Prelude | You Are Here! | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

MONDAY - 1

Your heart was pounding a million miles a minute as you stepped into your photoshoot studio on campus two weeks later, ready to see a bunch of other students preparing for interviews for the same position. Surprisingly, you were the only one present besides your teacher. She smiled and approached. “Hey,” she greeted you with a short handshake. “I see you’re nervous?” “A little,” you admit, returning her friendly grin. “I’m surprised nobody else is here.” She hummed. “Well, there was a lot to choose from. Come on. This one, I believe, is a little special compared to the others.” “How so?” Your voice was laced with curiosity as she led you further in, past the background sheets that separate the room into two halves. Behind it were people you had only dreamed of seeing in person.

The three of them stood as soon as they lay eyes on you. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun. You were completely frozen, staring at them and nearly forgetting to breathe. The thought of the members interviewing you themselves had never even entered your brain.

Your teacher placed a hand on your shoulder, startling you. Without a word, she smiled at you, nodded at them and left the room. Once the door shut with a soft click, Mark approached you. “Hi, I’m Mark Lee,” he held out his hand. “You probably knew that, considering your expression.” He laughed sweetly. You barely held out your hand with a shy nod, “I’m (Y/N).” Instead of going through with the handshake, Mark immediately moves in to engulf you in a friendly hug. “It’s nice to meet you,” you mumbled into the hug, barely processing that you were actually hugging Mark Lee and were in the same five-foot radius as three members of NCT. Johnny and Jaehyun also hugged you tightly, insisting that you join them at the table your teacher had set up for them.

“I thought I would be more prepared,” you admitted softly, digging into your backpack and pulling out your portfolio of projects and random photos you’ve taken. Mark takes it first to open and look through. “I’ve been a fan since your debut.”

Johnny smiled. “Then you’re just the person we’re looking for,” he said. He glances over at your portfolio, then back to you. “The truth is, we aren’t looking for a professional like a lot of others in this program. We bring our own from our company.” Your knit your eyebrows together in confusion. “Then why sign up? If, um, you don’t mind me asking.”

Jaehyun looked up from browsing your portfolio with Mark. “We were looking to take one photo.” He held up his index finger. “We wanted to have a friend that’s from around here to help us find the perfect spot, and photographers always know the best places.” Your eyes widened. A friend? Did he really just say that? “Just one photo?” You decided to ask, the whole prospect of clarifying what Jaehyun meant by ‘friend’ was a little too overwhelming.

The three of them nodded. “We want just one photo for our dorm. This stop is important to us, and we want this to stay away from social media. It’s just going to be for us. And for you, for your project, of course,” Mark explained. “We don’t want someone that is too professional and we don’t want a fansite to take it. It seemed to us that a friend would be the best choice.” He smiled gently at you. “We’ll provide you with a ticket and backstage pass, as well as paying you based on the program’s price for the photo to be touched up and framed.”

You tripped over your words. “Well, I… I don’t think I’m in a position to turn you down, but…” Johnny cocked his head to the side. “But..?”

You gulped and sheepishly avoided eye contact. “I can’t speak Korean,” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers. Mark smiled sweetly at you. “That’s okay. We’ll translate for you. So, what do you think? Would you like to spend a day with us before our show?”

You smiled, deciding to be a bit more daring. They did say, friend. “You’re asking that like there’s even a shred of a chance I’d say no.”

All three of them grin. “Thank you, I was hoping you would say yes,” Mark says. “Your portfolio is stunning.”

Your face goes red and you're barely conscious enough to stand with them as they prepare to leave. Johnny and Jaehyun hug you again, praising your work before taking their leave, but Mark doesn't join them.

“Our manager has your teacher's contact information, but I want to involve the company as little as possible… if it's not too sudden, could I please have your number?” Mark smiles sheepishly, offering his unlocked phone to you, open to a new contact page. It's as if he has no idea of the impact he has on his fans. Sometimes you forget that NCT is made up of normal humans, and the one standing in front of you is a year younger than you are.

“Of course,” you take it gently and add your contact info, taking a quick selfie to add as your little profile picture, all while Mark watches you searchingly. “Here you are,” you hand his phone back, hesitating on saying what you were thinking, “since you want to be friends, feel free to text me.”

Mark takes his phone back with a smile, sending you a quick smiley face to make sure the number was correct. The room is silent for a moment, your face feels as if it's on fire and Mark returns the stare you gave him when you walked in.

“Come on, Mark!” you hear Johnny’s voice from outside the classroom and you both turn toward it. You smile sheepishly.

“I shouldn't keep you, should I?” you ask, voice soft and a little embarrassed.

“No, but I wish I had more time. I'll text you, I promise,” he says, hugging you once more before leaving you alone and speechless.

You wondered if all fan interactions were like the one you just experienced. You were aware the members of NCT were known to be humble and kind, but they were much calmer and affectionate than you expected. The idea that you just saw Mark's smile in person made your own cheesy grin spread across your face as you packed up your portfolio.

After class, you headed back to your dorm, a skip in your step. Once you opened the door and stepped inside, you felt like you could collapse. Fatigue washed over you like a tidal wave, and you knew it was time for an afternoon nap. Rhiannon was still in her lab, so you could grab at least 20 minutes of shut-eye before she would come back and beg for you to make dinner. You set your bag down by the door with your shoes and set a course for your bed. As soon as you were able to slide underneath the covers and nearly drift to sleep, your phone vibrated.

You reach into your pocket, confused. Rhiannon was the only friend that had your number, and if she even thought about her phone in a lab, she would be kicked out. Once you unlock your phone, you finally remembered who else you gave your number to.

Mark: Hey!

You licked your lips as your chest twinged and filled with butterflies. You screamed internally for a few seconds, the moment hitting you a little harder than before. Mark Lee had your cell phone number and he was texting you first.

You: Hello, what’s up?

Mark replied almost immediately, which startled you a little bit. You turned over in your bed to get a little more comfortable.

Mark: We were just finishing up settling into our hotel rooms. I wanted to know how you're doing, are you in class? I hope I'm not interrupting anything

You: No, I got home a little while ago. I was gonna take a nap tbh

Mark: Oh! Sorry, I don't mean to take away sleep from a college student

You smiled a little bit. He was too sweet. As if your nap wasn't going to ruin your sleep schedule.

You: Its fine, if I had a nap I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway

Mark: So you're free then?

Your eyebrows furrowed as you typed your response.

You: Uh yeah, why? Did you all want that picture now?

You put your phone down, a little overwhelmed. If they wanted it now, you wouldn't see them again until the concert, which wasn't until Friday. Perhaps you should have expected they wanted to do this as fast as possible, their Canadian and Chicago stops were planned with vacations in mind considering Johnny and Mark's heritage. When your phone buzzed again, you almost jumped to grab it.

Mark: Well no not yet. I was just wondering if you wanted to get coffee or something. Or tea if you prefer that

Your eyes widened.

You: Really?

Mark: Yeah. I dunno, I want to take the friend thing more serious than the guys. They just wanted to use that word so it was like an unspoken contract that you wouldn't post this everywhere y'know?

Your heart sank a little bit, but you could see how important privacy was. If you were in the same position, you would have done the same.

You: I understand… I'm still kind of a stranger though, are you sure?

Mark: That's why I'm asking. I don't want you to be. So, will you meet me?

You: There's a Tim Hortons on the first floor of M building near where you met me on campus, I can be there in 40 minutes

Mark: See you in 40 minutes then :)

As soon as you read that text, you tossed your comforter to the side and raced into the bathroom. You fix your hair and could barely decide whether to change your outfit or not. He did see you earlier today, would he think you were trying too hard if you changed?

“Keep it together, (Y/N),” you told yourself, patting your cheeks with your hands as you eyed your complexion in the mirror. “He just wants tea and coffee, nothing major.”

Just then, the front door opened. “Are you talking to yourself again?” Rhiannon called from the foyer.

“No,” you called back, clearly lying as you took one more scan of yourself in the mirror before leaving to greet your friend. “You’re back early. How was the lab?”

“Tiring,” she answered. “My bitch lab partner came in even earlier than usual to make sure I didn't have the chance to set up our station again.” She rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack next to yours.

“Yikes,” you reply, watching her wander into the kitchen. “Are you gonna tell your professor that she is trying to sabotage your grade?”

Rhiannon sighed. “I don't know if the following shitstorm would be worth it,” she says, plugging in the electric kettle. “I'm gonna make some tea, you want any?”

You shook your head, even though she probably couldn't see you from the wall separating the kitchen and foyer. “No thanks, I'm going out to Tim's in M building.”

Rhiannon took less than a second to appear in the archway to stare at you. “Why?” She questioned, squinting at you.

“Mark asked me to meet him for coffee.”

“Mark,” she repeated, crossing her arms. “I thought you hated Mark Davids.”

“Not that asshole,” you shot back. “Mark Lee.” You began to look for a pair of cuter shoes as Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

“You got the job?!” She exclaimed, her voice nearly reaching a squeal. "YOU MET MARK LEE? WITHOUT ME?!"

“Yeah,” you smile sheepishly, taken aback by her shouting. you picked out your favourite pair of shoes, red converse high tops. “He just seems like he wants to hang out right now though.”

“Oh my God,” her voice nearly lowered to a whisper. “Mark Lee just asked you out.”

You rolled your eyes. “He didn't ask me out, he just wants to talk,” you explain, pulling on your shoes to tie them.

“I dunno, he could be it,” she says, waltzing back into the kitchen. “You never know!”

You sigh. “See you later!”

“Tell him to get Haechan's number!”

After a 15-minute subway ride and a lot of hurried walking, you hauled open the pristine doors of M building, the newest addition to your college campus. Right before you was a little Tim Hortons with a tiny student’s lounge to accompany it. There was a little bit of a line to the micro cafe since night classes were starting up around now, but the student’s lounge was close to empty.

You took in a deep breath, fully stepping inside and beginning your search for Mark. It doesn’t take long to spot him, he’s sporting yellow hair and a white face mask, accompanied by two red Tim Hortons cups at a table in the corner of the lounge. It takes you a moment to fathom your position - about to meet someone you’ve been crushing on for months through a computer screen for coffee in a lounge at your college. On top of that- he’s already bought you something.

“Hi,” you meekly greet him, approaching the table. Mark looks up from his phone and his eyes immediately crease into the crescents of his beautiful smile.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” He pulls his mask off, “sit down, I, uh, got you some tea. You kind of struck me as that kind of person, so I hope I got it right.”

“Thank you, Mark. You really didn’t have to buy me anything…” You smile nervously, your face feeling hot and your heart beating a mile a minute. Mark seemed a little nervous, just like you. It was a sobering moment, taking the cup he pushed toward you and opening it to take a sip. Your eyes widened. Your tea was exactly the way you always order it, nearly to the grain of sugar.

Mark watches your expression, happy that you seemed to like your tea, “I wanted to treat you. I know how weird this must all seem for you, but for some reason, I feel like I know you.” He runs his hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact for a moment.

You look away from him as well. There's a moment of silence between you, the bustle of students slowly diminishing as the sun sets behind you.

“I, uh, can't really relate to you in that way,” you whisper after you worked up the courage to break the silence. “A lot of your life is on display.”

“You're right,” Mark agreed. “There are a few things I keep to myself, though,” he smiled cheerfully. “But what I mean is hard to explain.”

Curious, you nod toward him, “try me.”

“When I was standing in line, I was trying to figure out what to get you. I wanted to treat you since I asked you to come, and I kind of expected for you to say no since your professor said you had class today and-”

“Mark, it’s fine, stay focused.” you smile faintly at him and wait for him to continue, sipping your tea again.

He blushes and nods sheepishly. “When it was my turn, I got what I wanted and the second I thought about you, I recited medium steeped orange pekoe tea with two cream and one and a half sugar like I had been getting it for you for years.” He stops for a moment, presumably watching your stunned reaction.

Your breathing was feeling a little crooked, and you couldn't quite place what you were feeling. You tried to take in a deep breath, shaking your head when Mark began to look concerned.

“Sorry,” you apologize quickly. “I, uh, kind of know what you're talking about. This is all just a little; I don't know…”

“Overwhelming?” Mark finished, nodding his head. “I can't stop thinking about it.”

You tried to smile. “I guess you gave the bug to me,” you joke. “Want to get some air?”

“I'd like that.”

The two of you walked down a path that led off-campus, talking. It was as if the two of you had forgotten your positions in life; Mark a celebrity with his life on a pedestal and you just a fan that forgot how much you really knew about him.

You were rediscovering his cheerful nature, his loud and hearty laughter that was a whole-body endeavour, learning that he plays the guitar, his love of ice cream and sweet things. His favourite colour was blue, and he loved Christmas so much he already had a growing list of things to buy for his friends as gifts.

The sun was nearly hidden behind the hills of the park you wandered into, admiring the newly blossomed cherry trees. You were showing him a small bed of flowers decorated to look like a Canadian flag when Mark asked the dreaded personal question you had been hoping you would never have to answer again.

“How did your parents find out?” His tone was soft, curious. He didn't sound as invasive as others have been in the past, but the question still made you bite your lip to keep from frowning.

“A gang fight,” you answer, bitterly. “My dad punched my mom in the face so hard that day, she needed to go to the ER. It actually took three months for her to figure out why the print of my dad's fist hadn't faded from her cheek.”

Mark didn't speak for a moment. “Was that too much to ask?”

You looked up at him from the flower bed, smiling faintly. He looked good in the final evening glow. “I don't mind that much, but...”

“I'm sorry,” he said, tentatively placing a hand on the small of your back.

“It's okay,” you start, his sympathy nearly made you melt. The two of you begin walking again, Mark absently running his fingers over cherry petals as you both passed the trees. “I got out of it all pretty quickly. They fought when they were high, and that was almost all the time. Sometimes, I feel scared just thinking about how my life might end up. If any of it is all as real as everyone says it is.”

Mark stares at you, and there is sympathy radiating off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet.

You hold back a frown and decide to break the silence. “Anyway, how about your parents?”

“A hug,” he answered, nodding, a smile returning to his face. “it's not the most common first touch in the world, but I hope I find mine the same way.”

“That does sound nice,” you agree softly.

“I've heard it's all up to fate and magic,” Mark says, charm in his voice. “I've always wanted to believe in that.”

“I'd like to believe in that. Makes life seem a little more bearable. I’ve just always been so cynical through my childhood, so much so that all of my hope for a fairytale ending faded a long time ago. I never really thought that anything good would come out of it. If the universe really wants me to find someone, I guess I can’t really do anything about it.”

Mark smiles, although you can tell he is hiding a smidge of disappointment. “I suppose that's one way to think about it,” he replies. “I just want to know someone so well that I don't have to think twice about it. Like knowing the exact way to cheer them up when they're sad. Like the perfect cup of tea or their favourite stuffed animal. I guess that takes a little bit of magic.”

You stop in your tracks, thinking about the perfect tea he had given you earlier.

“What's wrong?” Mark stops and turns around when he notices you're not keeping pace.

“Nothing,” you lie with a smile, watching Mark's scepticism through the darkness of night.

“Okay,” he says softly, looking up at the sky. “I guess it's late, huh?”

You join him in looking up. If the city wasn't always so lit up, this spot would be perfect for a shot of the starry night sky between the small canopy of cherry trees. “I guess it is.”

“How far away is your dorm? I can walk you,” he suggests, taking your hand. You're frozen, too stunned by the gesture to pull away.

“You don't have to,”

“But I want to,” Mark grins. “It's the one way I can make sure you get back safely.”

“You're too kind…” you pause for a moment. Mark is staring you down, waiting for you to say yes. “I'm not allowed to say no, am I?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Nope. Come on, let's go.”

Scoffing lightly, you concede and begin walking again. “You can take me to my subway stop and I can tell you which train to take to go back,” you offer, assuming he would need to be back at his hotel before it got too late at night.

“No,” he said quickly. Your eyes widened at his tone and once he noticed your reaction, he lowered his voice. “I just… have these gut feelings. I'd like to escort you right to your dorm,” he clears his throat, “um, if I'm not crossing any lines.”

You feel sympathy for him. Just looking at Mark, you can tell he's worried about you, but you can't quite see the reason. “Okay,” you agree softly.

It's silent for a while as you both walk through the well-lit city. It's not until you pass a food truck on the way to the subway station that either of you says something again.

“You know, you and I walked around that park for hours and we didn't even know how late it was until the last minute,” Mark comments, still holding your hand and pulling back gently to keep you from walking past him.

“Yeah, you're right,” you blush, you had to admit to yourself that you hadn't lost yourself in conversation or such comfortable silence like that even on a date. "We forgot to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Mark admits with a laugh, “and these hot dogs smell good.”

You look up at him. “I'll buy.” You wriggle your hand out of his grasp and run toward the cart before Mark can catch you, readying your wallet.

“Two hot dogs please, one with relish and one plain, please. Also, burn the plain one a little bit, thanks.”

“You're slippery,” Mark says, watching you pay for the food.

“You bought me tea, it's only fair,” you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and nods at you, only breaking his gaze when the man at the cart hands down the hot dogs a few moments later. “The one with relish is yours. You hate ketchup, right?”

Mark takes his hot dog, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah,” he pauses. “I just haven't really told anyone outside the guys and my family.”

You're halfway through a bite of your ‘dog and you nearly choke on it.

“Hey, hey!” Mark reaches out for your shoulder, hoping that you wouldn't pass out. “Chew and swallow! Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out.”

You swallow and cough, shaking your head. “Don't worry, I'm fine,” you say. “This is just a weird feeling.”

He nods. “Yeah. But I don't really mind it. Come on, let's walk some more.”

It was totally surreal to you, walking and eating with Mark. He was right, there was this strange feeling washing over you every time you looked at him, different than watching him on a Vlive broadcast or music video. Like you knew something about him that nobody else did, and it made you feel both good and scared out of your mind. It felt invasive.

One subway stop and a little bit of a walk later, you both arrive at your dorm building. “Here we are,” you announce. “My roommate is probably going to kill me for coming back so late.”

“Should I go in with you? To protect you?” Mark is smiling, but you can tell there is a hint of seriousness.

“If you want. She will probably ask for something from you, though.” You open the main doors and enter in your code, leading Mark in with you.

“Like what?” Mark furrows his eyebrows. “She's not weird, right?”

You nearly laugh out loud. “She's weird all right, just not the kind you're thinking of. She wanted me to get Haechan's number from you, but I got so absorbed in talking with you that I forgot to ask.”

“Oh,” Mark is following you close behind, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. “That doesn't sound too bad, but his reaction should be interesting.”

You shrugged. “You don't have to do it. Anyway-” You're cut off as the door to your apartment opens, Rhiannon stepping out and pressing her hands to her hips.

“Look who's finally back,” she states, and you can immediately tell she is angry. “It's almost 1 AM!”

“Shh! I'm sorry, okay? I lost track of time! I was with-”

“Mark,” she says, her voice less harsh when she notices Mark is standing behind you, sheepishly smiling and waving at her. “At least you had the initiative to walk her home.”

You squint at your best friend. It's clear she is trying not to freak out in front of him. “Are you gonna let me inside?”

“Not yet,” she states. “Mark, I love you,” she says quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you to her. You're smiling awkwardly at him, shrugging and mouthing ‘sorry’.

Mark smiles awkwardly and nods at you. “Uh, thanks,”

“Thank you for bringing (Y/N) back. Has she asked you about Haechan?”

“Yeah. I'll text you guys his number when I get back- which I probably should…”

You step forward. “Do you know how to get back?”

Mark shakes his head. “I think it's on Yorkville, I might have to use my GPS.”

You shake your head. “It's easy to get there. Head to the station you and I were just on, take the southbound for 5 stops. Once you get above ground, you should be on that street.”

Mark smiled at you. “Thank you.” He approached you to give you a hug, which felt warmer than the other two from earlier in the day. When he turned to leave, a pang hit your chest.

“Mark,” you called. Instantly he turned around, his expression curious. “Let me know when you get back safely.”

He nodded, smiling warmly. “I will, I promise.”

You watch him leave, a little shocked that spending the entire night with him didn't feel like it at all. You're only broken out of your thoughts when Rhiannon drags you inside your apartment and shuts the door.

“You scared me half to death, you bitch! At least text me when you're gonna stay out this late! I thought you were just having tea! I was this close to calling the cops!” She presses her index finger to her thumb and shoves her hand towards your face as you stand before her, a little humiliated.

“Your fingers are touching,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“Exactly!” she exclaims. “I was one button away from speaking to 911! You're goddamn lucky I heard you and Mark coming down the hall!” You open your eyes when she gently touches your arm. “Don't scare me like that.”

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll keep in touch next time.” You smile awkwardly at her. “I was just so caught up in talking and trying to make sure it wasn't a dream.”

Rhiannon nodded and returned your smile. “I know. You should go to bed, you have class in the morning.”

“Yeah. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Once you were in fresh pyjamas, you had some music on in the bathroom while you dry your hair with a towel. A quick shower before bed always was relaxing enough for you to fall asleep quickly. Snuggling up in bed after that long day was especially nice, gathering up your teddy bear to hug close. You're just about to drift off when your phone buzzes.

Mark: Hey, I'm back safe. Thank you for the directions

You: You're welcome

I had a really nice time tonight

Mark: Me too

You have class tomorrow right

You: Yeah, it's a short day though, just a small photoshop lab

Mark: Do you want to hang out again when you're done? By the way, the number I promised - __________

You: I'd like that. Thanks, I'll forward it to her

Haechan was cool with it right

Mark: Me too :) yeah he was cool with it, he owed me a favour anyway

Sleep well ok?

You: I will, you too?

Mark: Yeah I promise

Goodnight (Y/N)

You: Goodnight :)

After putting your phone down on your nightstand, you peacefully drifted off with a smile on your face.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #nctu #kpop fanfictions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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