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colossalcriminal · 7 months
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two and a half dimensional.
The art of politeness is a daughter taught, daughter learned module. So frequently intertwined with the ribbons of life, the courtesy of holding the door open for someone, the feminine chivalry of nurturing, politeness is the good woman's strategy to survival, the silk bow to a daughter's peace.
The phenomenon of being a daughter who craves to be a son is one that a man will never understand, because he'll never know the duty of harnessing the comforting touch of a sister, but he has the liberty to memorise its warmth.
But, the closest I'll be to being my mother's son is to be the spitting image of my brother, but I have her eyes and share her lips, and I walk hand in hand with the same passion that's been softened into a quiet advocacy for politeness.
What does this great politeness entail? Does it queue to slash the sharp tongues of judgmental men, or does it preach the practice of counting the women of our lives as blessings? I hope it spreads gospel that for each child born comes a village of women in tow, but today I am a girl who writes of a feminine revolution of some sort and hasn't experienced the feat of passing on the education of kindness.
And one girl knows it's a cruel world when a woman of indifference is considered to be half-baked, the next girl takes note of this opinion and cries out proof of her individuality, and the last girl wonders how it came to be that women have been perceived so poorly for so long, that any sense of interest is considered unique and worthy of a son's listening ears.
One day, I break from chasing the privilege of someone's son, he rounds a corner and runs out of earshot as I sit down and paint my nails with my mother's polishes, I pick a light shade of pink.
I smile prettily as a daughter because there's a sense of beauty to my suffering that a son couldn't possibly relate to, and it tilts my head up high.
The next day, I'll pass by a fruit stall and smell the product of mango season. I'll pick out the ripe mangoes, ready to be peeled and cut, like my mother taught me to, the same way her mother taught her, and my pink nails will shamelessly stand out against nature's bright yellow. 
But, today I am a girl, and tomorrow a boy stands behind the fruit stall, he smiles at me, and I wonder if he knows just how close I am to catching him.
just something quick and not really thought out, perhaps even thought-provoking.
not all ideas need to be perfected, this one isn't.
almost everything is intentional.
i love you
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colossalcriminal · 8 months
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in small celebration of One for the Money, Two for the Show hitting a hundred notes in the first twenty four hours of it being up and multiple requests for a part two, i will be writing a second part!
a few people have asked to be tagged, and so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, too.
happy weekend<33
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colossalcriminal · 8 months
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One for the Money, Two for the Show - a.h
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: The title of father looms on Aaron, and he can’t seem to let go of his mistress, and she wants nothing but for him to provide her with release.
Content warnings: cheating, swearing, takes place in s1 episode 1. angst??
Aaron Hotchner’s lifelong tenure as a family man begins now.
He’s got his wife, his baby’s on the way, a nice house and a big car, a true family man.
It was inevitable for him, he wasn’t the kind to doubt marriage or children, life would take its course and he would let it, and he was sure he’d never have the chance of interacting with anything that would change that.
This odd, perhaps even life-altering, wonder had arrived in 2004, in the form of a new team member, a pretty girl. Mankind's greatest enemy would be a pretty girl. One singular woman could be so captivating she could tear down industries and destroy the world's infrastructure, and he was sure he had met her.
He himself was fresh in Quantico, just in from Seattle.
"Do you need any help?"
He wanted to decline her offer, he really did, but the intoxicating scent of strawberries had taken over his brain, and he could not produce the word 'No'. "You don't need to."
Y/N waved him off, sitting down across from him, picking up half the stack of his papers. "No worries, I like helping. I'm also trying to make a good impression."
“Don’t worry, I think you’ve made a good one.” He reassured.
Several hours passed them by, the sun had risen in their hours of work, light was peeking through the closed blinds and it was finally Saturday morning. They were much quieter now, and she had moved to sit beside him rather than across. "Take a coffee break?"
The older agent shook his head. "If I drink any more coffee, I'm never going to sleep again." She giggled, pouring herself a mug before leaning on the desk, looking down at him. "You can go now, really, I can finish this off."
She didn't budge. "I'm not leaving you behind, Hotchner." Her tone was teasing, a smirk accompanying her words. “What was it like in Seattle?”
“Rainy.”
“Oh, I love the rain.” His eyebrow is raised. “It’s romantic.”
Their faces are close together, she can smell the remnants of his aftershave and it’s nearly intoxicating. “This is not ideal.” She whispered to herself, and he pushed his lips onto hers, and despite her initial internal debate, she kissed back with equal ferocity.
He still doesn’t know what possessed his body, nor does he recognise the electricity flowing through his veins when he touches her.
In the distance, heavy shoes hit the cold floor of the BAU as the pair sprung apart in fear of the new presence in their office. "What the hell are you guys doing here? It's Saturday."
Y/N downed the last of her coffee. "We could say the same for you, Gideon." She quirked a brow at her unit chief and the unknown man beside him. "We've been here since yesterday, literally."
"Since Friday evening, yesterday?"
"Yeah."
Gideon shook his head, turning to gesture to his counterpart. "Well, while we're here. This is Dr Spencer Reid, he'll be joining the team. Dr Reid, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner," Aaron nodded in acknowledgement, offering his hand to shake.
"I don't really do handshakes." Spencer said, sheepish, relieved when no one was offended.
"And this is Special Agent Y/N L/N." She merely smiled. "I just wanted to show Dr Reid around on a weekend so the office is empty." It was smart to avoid Monday morning's usual rush in the bullpen.
“It’s good to meet you, Spencer.”
"You both should go home."
"It's too early, the subway doesn't start up for another hour." She interjected.
Aaron looked at her with a softness in his eyes that would be difficult to decipher unless you were at the receiving end. "I could drive you home."
The woman couldn't get a word out before Gideon snapped his fingers. "There you go. Now get some sleep and stop wasting your weekend away."
It has been determined, every family man needs his young, alluring mistress.
She was on medical leave in 2005, Adrien Bale’s warehouse bombing had done a number on her. He payed her visits, like any good lover. "How have you been?"
Y/N got up, moving to straddle his waist, he welcomed the intimacy, his fingertips drumming along her waist. "I've been okay." They joined in a kiss, him smiling against her lips. "How are you, Unit Chief of the BAU?"
His smile did not cease as she praised him with his new title. It was nice of her, too kind, as his own wife didn't celebrate such promotions. The higher the rank, the longer his working hours. "Better."
"You want something to eat?" Her hands travelled up his arms, soon to rest on his chest as he shook his head.
"I need to tell you something."
The seriousness dripping from his words, tinged with regret, had her pushing off of him and sitting on the other end of the small sofa. "What is it?"
His eyes narrowed from pure stress. "Haley's pregnant."
"Oh." Her mouth was left agape, just a little, until she regained the will to close it. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you."
"Y/N."
"I hope it's a happy, healthy baby."
Aaron attempted to take her hand, only for it to be snatched away. "Don't react like this."
"Act like what? I'm just happy for you."
“Don’t go quiet on me.”
It’s sounded like an order, and she was never one to disobey. Y/N scoffed. “What, you want me to scream and cry like a crazy mistress? Do you think I like knowing that you're going to bed with her every night? That you spend Christmas, New Year's, every fucking holiday, all with her!" He was quiet, and she stood, chest heaving. "All I get is office quickies and sneaking around on cases, because I'm the other woman! That's what I deserve."
“You deserve better than that.”
Her hands ran through her hair, clutching at the roots. “I’m the other woman,” She repeated to herself in disbelief. “This has been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life.”
She was stumbling, grabbing her bag, she left the apartment and slammed the door behind her.
Aaron remained seated for a moment, his head in his hands. Her declarations of hate were loud, and clear as day, yet he found it difficult to breathe when she wasn't in the room.
Y/N hadn’t been around since then, not even at the grocery store, until Spencer’s faithful call.
"They want both of you back in the saddle. Medical leave's over."
Her and Gideon exchange tentative looks. “You're sure?"
Aaron smiles, just a little, at the hint of excitement in her eyes. "Order came from the director."
"Well, we better get started."
They each file out of the room, all except for two. Y/N intends to stay just to read the case file a little more, while his objective is to catch her alone for only a minute. "I came to your place a few weeks ago."
Her voice is monotoned. "You shouldn't have."
He seems unaffected by her response. "You weren't there, no one knew where you were." Her head tilts upward a little, flattered by his efforts to find her.
"I’ll send out a national announcement next time I go on holiday." The man plucks the manila folder from her grasp, just about softly catching her left hand in his grip. "Aaron."
"I didn't know if you were coming back to me."
"Don't do this because you know I'll give in." He comes closer, and closer, with every half second that passes.
Her hand is flat on his chest, halting him. “I was so attached to you, Aaron. My life depended on you,” She dares not look up at him, her gaze fixates on his tie. “Our affair had made me jealous, and I don’t want to hate your marriage, and I really don’t want to hate Haley,”
Y/N peers up at him through thick, wet lashes. “so please, don’t make me.”
His actions have a mind of their own, encouraging him to lean down and just kiss her like he’s been itching to for several months, and so he does. Because Aaron Hotchner can’t always do what he wants, but when it came to her, his Y/N, she’s putty in his hands, and vice versa.
"I miss you." He murmurs after they part.
"I know, but we can't do this anymore."
He steps away, and she’s the first to leave the tiny office.
When they’re alone there’s a potential to hurt a lot of people, it’s dangerous, and so they don’t catch themselves making that mistake until they’re outside Richard Slessman’s house, towards the back.
She’s on a call. “I love you.” The affections he hears pang at his heart. “Bye, mom.” He can breathe, she tucks her phone away.
"Everything alright back home?"
Y/N shrugs. "Yeah, she just gets worried.” She looks down at her shoes, and his eyes flicker to it for a second. "I didn't ask, earlier, how's Haley? And the baby?"
"They're good. It's a boy." Her chest inflates a little, he notices, and his eyes tear away from her silky blouse.. "I'm sorry, I don't want to-"
"You're having a baby, Aaron, you're allowed to boast." The grin that envelopes her lips was one that should been photographed, but he can’t ignore the way the corners of her eyes don’t crinkle like they usually would, or how her eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. "That's amazing, though. I'm happy for you. A boy."
Her actions contradict her words, she looks away, a way of avoiding the obligation to smile any longer. "Thank you."
"By the way," She grabs her handbag from the nearby ledge of the house, pausing at the sight of it before rummaging through. He recognises it, he bought it. A small stuffed animal is outstretched to him. "I got this for him when I was away. In the future, maybe he could look at it and think of his Aunt Y/N."
He chuckles, looking down at the toy in his hands, a little plushie of a dog. "Of course. Haley and I really appreciate this." She nods, unsure of what to say.
“I have something for you, too.” His is smaller than hers, it’s in a small velvet box and it makes her breath hitch in her throat. “I wanted to give it to you a while ago, I wanted to tell you that I was finally leaving Haley, that we could be together properly in the way that you deserve.”
She opens the box, and the ring inside is nothing short of exquisite. “Fuck, Aaron.” 
"But things didn't go the way we, I, had planned."
Her head is slowly shaking in incredulity. “This is crazy.”
"A good kind of crazy?" His features are hopeful.
Her breathy laugh is pained. "This is a crazy kind of crazy, border-lining insane."
A smile plays on Aaron’s lips anyways.  "This is it, my final, grand gesture. I love you, Y/N, I always will and I would give up everything I have for you right now if you asked me to."
She takes a single step towards him. "You don't mean that, because I won't let you. I won't let you do it." She places her right hand on his cheek, the other still holds the open ring box. "You love Haley."
"But I'm in love with you."
"It'll go away eventually, and I'm telling you this because I know you. You'll hold that beautiful little boy in your arms, and you'll forget about all of it."
The older man shakes his head, but not necessarily in denial as the surface of his eyes become glassy. "I'll never forget."
"I won't either, but we have to let this go."
“The ring is yours, you deserve it.”
Y/N shuts the box, and it makes that satisfying sound, and she drops it into her purse with a smile, and the wrinkle at the corners of her eyes makes him grin like a boy. 
And although she wants nothing more than to shout her love for him from rooftops and kiss him while August heat slips away as September looms on them, she readjusts her handbag on her arm and turns the corner around Slessman’s house.
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colossalcriminal · 1 year
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𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱
here you’ll find the list of characters and fics i’ve written relating to supernatural.
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Goodbye, Apple Pie - Fem!Reader Sam and Y/N aren’t too thrilled when Dean stumbles back into their lives.
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colossalcriminal · 1 year
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Goodbye, Apple Pie - s.w
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sam and Y/N aren’t too thrilled when Dean stumbles back into their lives.
Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing. kissing?? Takes place in season one.
“Do we really have to go?”
Despite pouting at his laziness, the corners of Y/N’s mouth tugged upward ever so slightly. “If you really don’t want to go we don't have to, baby.” 
He sighed humbly as she straddled his hips, hands flat on his chest. She had almost relieved the feeling of his back against the wall with little support. “You think you’ll be ready in ten?” His answer was expected. Even with the choice he was offered, Sam could never say no to her. Wherever his wife went, he went.
Their mattress was situated on the floor, a slightly uncomfortable situation. She did her best to make it look nice with patterned sheets, but the sight of their duvet touching the floor when the bed was neatly made did irk them both.
“I can be ready in fifteen.” She promised, pressing a chaste, grateful, kiss to his lips before departing back to the bathroom.
They had a bed frame once, with a nice headboard. It probably would’ve lasted them years if Sam's guilt hadn't gotten in the way, and if it wasn’t so easy to sell it for such a hefty number.
A nice sleeping area, most of his savings and skipping some classes to pick up extra shifts at work among other things were worth practically nothing when it came to his girl. 
His girl who deserved everything, his girl who should’ve gotten better than a Vegas wedding with only an Elvis impersonator in attendance, his girl who didn’t mind they were absolutely dirt poor.
But, she was also his girl who was tearing up in confusion and glee when he presented her with the prettiest wedding band that matches his.
Sure, a bed frame could’ve given him a few years of good sleep, but Sam knew it was worth it when he saw her face, and he prayed that this piece of jewellery would stick around until he could buy her a bigger one.
By the time they reached, the bar was crowded and the Halloween decorations had made it seem busier, as usual, they’d already been approached by multiple friends in silly costumes.
“I’m so proud of you, and your freakishly good LSAT score.”
He smiled at her. “Have you heard back?”
To him, it was already obvious from her reaction. The way her eyes flickered down to her drink, her grin now sheepish. “It’s your night.”
“So, you did hear back.” There was no escaping. Y/N rummaged through her purse, handing him the torn envelope. “Y/N Winchester,” He murmured the contents of the letter, the sound of their shared last name rolling off his tongue with a slight smirk. 
“Congratulations, it is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford School of Medicine, class of 2010. Holy shit, you’re going to Stanford Med School.”
Y/N nodded. “I’m going to Stanford Med School.”
A breathy laugh of relief had turned into one of excitement as Sam embraced her, holding her so close to him she lifted off the ground in his grip. “You’re so amazing, you know that?” He told her, settling her down, but she remained firmly in his grasp. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
<3
She could hardly sleep, anyway.
Unusual, she slept like a rock, especially after a night of drinking. Sam had indulged a little more than her, just this once, to celebrate their futures.
The thud had brought her to her feet, slipping on one of Sam’s t-shirts, gently padding along the cold floor. Y/N made sure he was asleep before exiting the bedroom to search for the intruder. 
It had gone quiet again. Perhaps she imagined it?
No, she had just gotten a peak at him.
It all happened so slowly as she approached the stranger from behind, standing on the tips of her toes to wrap her arm around his neck. He squirmed, his breathing constricted, she took her chance to pin the man to the floor. “Dean?”
She lifted her arm just a little, allowing him to speak. “What are you doing here?” He wheezed, regaining his breath.
“I live here. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Y/N?” The light turned on, and Sam’s sleepiness had worn off quickly when he found his wife on the verge of murdering his estranged brother. “Dean, what are you doing here?”
The pair stood, the former moving toward him as he wrapped a protective arm around her. “I was looking for a beer.” The intruder raised his eyebrow slightly at the couple. “I didn’t know you guys were still together.”
“What are you really doing here?”
Dean pursed his lips at the woman, one he was sure he’d never see again after she ran away. It’d been five years since he last saw her, she was just seventeen, handling a gun like a Texas Ranger. “We gotta talk.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, crossing her arms instead. “The phone?”
“If I’d called, would you have picked up?” An awkward silence. “Listen, Y/N, good seeing you again, but we’ve got to discuss some family business.”
Sam interrupted, his arm not moving from its position around her. “She’s family, Dean.”
“What?”
“Your last name is literally on my driver’s license forever.” Y/N deadpanned.
“You’re married?”
“As of last year.”
“You got married at twenty-one? Are you stupid?”
The younger brother scoffed. “Actually, it’s the best decision I’ve made yet, so whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”
It took a second, but Dean nodded. “Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”
He didn’t seem too bothered by the news. “So, he's working overtime on a Miller-time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later.”
“Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days. We have to go.”
“Come on, you can’t just break in in, middle of the night, and expect us to hit the road.”
“No, I expected you to hit the road. I didn’t think you’d get hitched to a girl you you’ve been dating since you were sixteen. I need you to help me.”
Y/N groaned. “We get it, Dean, you’re upset we got married. Did you want an invite? Hunters go missing all the time, they’re always fine.”
Dean finally looked her in the eye, and she saw the worry that clouded his features. “Not for this long. Are you going to help me, or not?”
“We’re not. We swore we were done hunting, for good.”
<3
“How much to make you go away?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the cash in her hand. “I’ve only got twenty, but that should get you something.”
His eyebrows raised in slight surprise. “You’re living with twenty dollars in your pocket?”
“Money’s been tight, lately. I’m sure it’s more than what you have, though.”
Nodding in agreement, he got a glimpse of the shiny wedding band on her finger as she leaned against the car. “Whose idea was it? The wedding.”
“His. Vegas, we got blackout drunk after, too. You would’ve enjoyed it.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath. “He wanted you there, Dean, he just didn’t know how to ask.”
Her words didn’t bring much comfort. “Is there anyone else who can help you?”
He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was insinuating. “Your dad’s not in good shape, last trip got him real bad.”
The features on her didn’t move, her expression was stony. “Where is he?”
“Somewhere in North Carolina, last I checked. Still upset you ran away, I am, too. It would be good to have you on this hunt, like old times.”
“I appreciate that you haven’t asked for much, in the last couple of years. Sam misses you, I know he does, but we’re so happy and safe, I need you to understand that.”
Dean looked down at her, features softening at her teary eyes. “Please, help me, Y/N. Just this once.”
She nodded, blinking. “We have to be back first thing Monday morning. Sam’s got a law school interview. His future is important to him and I, and if you’re a good brother, it’s important to you too.”
<3
“Are you sure you want to go?”
Sam pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hands sliding down her upper arms as she packed several articles of clothing into a duffle bag. “It’s one trip, that’s it. Just to find dad.”
The girl paused her action. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?”
“We didn't run away, babe, we went to college.”
She turned to face him, her hands cradling his face. “One trip.”
“Hey, if anyone’s going to fall back into old habits, it’s you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Y/N rolled her eyes with a slight smile, giving in to his affections. “We’ll be back by Monday morning, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Sam leaned down, two fingers under her chin as he joined their lips.
“How long are you going to take?” Dean called, his voice growing suspiciously louder before the door to their bedroom swung open. “Shit, my bad.”
“Jesus, fuck, knock!” She parted from her husband to glare at her brother-in-law.
“You guys really sleep on the floor? And I thought I had it bad.” 
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colossalcriminal · 1 year
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Housekeeping
Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Harry gets a part-time gig cleaning the house down the street to escape the Dursleys for a few hours a week during the summer, he soon recognises the residents’ daughter as his own schoolmate.
Content Warnings: None, really? Not proofread. There’s no specific time this takes place, you could say it’s the summer after fifth year. Reader is also a Ravenclaw but it doesn’t have too much of an impact. Mentions of a functional family.
“There you go, Harry. Don’t worry about the downstairs, today. Just some light dusting upstairs and wiping the windows.”
Harry nodded, smiling down at the many shiny coins that lay in his hand.
He got to work, somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t much to do today. He wondered if there really was more, but the L/Ns were too nice to ask. Dusting along several shelves that lined the wall of the upstairs hallway, he made his way to the first room. 
It’d been his first time in this one. The door, for the first time ever, was slightly ajar, a stark difference from its usual shut position. It wasn’t too clean, the trunk open and closet half empty, not yet finished with unpacking for the summer holiday. Books and trinkets were scattered about the table, bed haphazardly made. The walls were painted a pretty shade of cream, almost completely covered with posters of musicians such as Celestina Warbeck and Lorcan d’Eath, he was surprised to see them accompanied by several Ravenclaw banners and a blue and bronze tie hanging from the bedpost.
He had an inkling that the L/N family knew of magic and wizards, but for their child to attend Hogwarts? Harry did as he was paid to do, wiping the windows. Dusting the shelves, he was oddly determined to find out who lived in this bedroom.
A Ravenclaw.
Judging by the clothing style and size, which he knew very little about, she couldn’t be much younger than him. 
The boy refused to snoop through the stack of letters on her bedside table, only one name catching his eye. Dean Thomas.
Were they friends? He hadn’t noticed Dean with a girl, but lately, he hadn’t noticed much at all. Were they dating? “Who are you?” Harry murmured, sighing as he went to look at the framed moving photographs.
With narrowed eyes, the name he’d been searching for had uncovered itself in his brain. “Y/N L/N.”
△⃒⃘
It was warmer than it was a few days ago when he was wiping windows and dusting shelves, Harry walked down the street, knocking on the door of number 8 Privet Drive.
Would she be home?
The door swung open several minutes later, but it wasn’t to address him. Perhaps his knock was too quiet, too nervous, to be heard. “I’ll be back late, tonight!”
“No, Y/N! Not a single minute after twelve!”
“Let's make it twelve-thirty!” She shut the door before her parents could retaliate, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “Oh, I think you’re cleaning the kitchen today.” Y/N told him before scurrying off, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder.
His eyes trailed after her as she walked away. Summer was most definitely here, one could tell from her skirt and vest, along with the sunglasses that covered what he remembered to be very pretty eyes.
Shaking his head, Harry scolded himself for looking too long, getting one last glimpse of her wonderfully styled hair before entering the house.
He’d seen her, she’d spoken a total of eight words to him.
△⃒⃘
Thursday came, the second and last day of the week he had to clean, Harry would have to wait four more days to return on Monday to find any sort of reprieve from the Dursleys.
He insisted on wiping the countertops slower, ensuring maximum shine, scrubbing with utmost precision while Mr. L/N sipped on tea in the living room and Mrs. L/N judged the flower arrangement on the dining table.
The front door shut, and no one flinched. “I’m home!”
She placed her bag onto the table her mother was sitting at. “Hair up please, darling, Harry’s just cleaned the floor.”
Y/N huffed slightly before bunching her hair up into a clip, plopping down onto the sofa next to her father. “Hi, dad.”
Her father’s eyes remained on the newspaper. “Hello, you.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Hi, hungry. I’m dad.” She pouted at the awful joke. “You should’ve eaten while you were at the burrow.”
“I wasn’t hungry at the time.”
Harry kept to himself, brows furrowed. The burrow? He’d never seen her there, it must’ve been a remarkable coincidence that their lives overlapped so heavily, yet they have yet to speak more than ten words to each other. 
“Go make a sandwich then.”
“I’m lazy.”
She retreated to her bedroom after a light chat with her mum, and soon he was due back at number 4.
△⃒⃘
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Harry?”
“What?” Y/N almost dropped the plate she held while setting the table.
“What?” Harry’s face was one of surprise. The two spoke simultaneously. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, Mrs. L/N.”
The older woman waved him off, supplying her daughter with a fourth plate. “Nonsense, we would love to have you.”
And so the quartet sat for dinner, the teenage girl beside her father, the boy beside her mother. “This is really nice, Mrs. L/N.”
“Thank you, dear.” A short pause. “Are you and Y/N good friends in school?”
The pair weren’t sure of what to say. “We don’t talk much, mum. Different houses and that.”
“Speaking of houses, that final game for the Quidditch cup!” Mr. L/N began, eliciting a sigh from Y/N. “Absolutely ridiculous! I always tell Y/N, just because you score the first few points, doesn’t mean you calm your attack, don’t you think so, Harry?”
“I can’t say much, sir, but I know that Y/N is a great player.”
“Not great enough for Ravenclaw to beat you.” She murmured, slightly annoyed. “We would’ve won that match if Davies hadn’t substituted Chambers for Bradley.”
Harry smiled. “I have no doubt. Fair game, though?”
With hesitance, she nodded. “Fair game.”
He took notice of her face, the lipgloss she wore and the darkness of her eyelashes, a blush creeping up his neck.
As dinner soon came to a conclusion, Y/N was tasked with the light burden of walking him to the door. “See you Thursday.” She dropped the coins into his hand, their fingers brushing against each other, but only he took notice of the warmth radiating between them.
Had he been hallucinating?
△⃒⃘
“Mum and dad are out, come in.”
He nodded meekly, the confidence he’d built up since Monday dissipated. “You’re working on downstairs, today. The floors.” It was his first time seeing her at home, comfortable. Not leaving, or just returning.
But the thought of it reminded him of a particularly embarrassing day.
The upstairs flooring was completely carpeted, easier to clean than downstairs as all he had to do was a quick vacuum.
He pushed the machine along, running it over every imperfection he could spot, until he found himself before a certain door that was now shut, like always.
Harry contemplated. Her bedroom counted as upstairs, right?
The boy was itching to refresh his memory of her room, dying to know if her decor had remained the same, despite it being just a little over a week since he’d last seen it.
With an odd spur of confidence, he wrapped his hand around the old knob, twisting it and opening the door with a quiet click.
He didn’t expect her to actually be home, and he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed her door open just about three inches, a bespectacled eye peeking through. It was much too loud to hear the opening of the door, with the noise of the vacuum and the melody of Celestina Warbeck’s debut album playing at a considerably loud volume.
She laid on her stomach, bed lazily made underneath her, her cheek resting on her palm, the other hand holding an arithmancy textbook.
Her legs occasionally swung back and forth in the air. Y/N was clad in just a pair of pajama shorts and a vest to combat the summer heat they weren’t used to in London, or Hogwarts. 
Harry’s breath hitched into his throat, all of his willpower being used to ensure he was not to choke and break out into a coughing fit at the sight of her chest pushed up due to her positioning. After all, he was a teenage boy.
With a gulp, he quietly shut the door, shaking his head at no one but himself.
She didn’t instantly run upstairs, instead, she returned to her seat at the dining table, picking up her quill and continuing her scribble. 
Y/N’s system was neat, efficient. Several relevant textbooks were scattered around her, each open to a different section. Multiple past essays she’d written, and scored especially high on, displayed for her to copy any impressive vocabulary. The television was on, but she didn’t seem to be distracted, instead, she hummed along to the tune of whatever Weird Sisters song was playing, continuing to write.
Grabbing the broom, he began his duties.
Minutes passed, downstairs was a lot of ground to cover.
He worked around her. “Would you like anything to eat?”
Harry’s head snapped up to find her already looking at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry? Erm, no. Thank you, though.” She nodded, unsure of how to feel after what felt like his rejection. “Do you like music?”
The girl chuckled at his question. “I do, a lot. You?”
“I don’t listen to it much.”
“You should come over more often, then. I have a massive collection of records upstairs, we could listen together, find out what’s to your taste.”
He only nodded with a small smile, internally giddy a the thought of this being their first conversation, instigated by no one but them. His heart nearly burst at the thought of being in her room, a record turning while they chatted about whatever. “Do you go to the burrow a lot?”
“Only sometimes, to see Fred and George. I’ve never seen you there, do you go often?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“Must be a coincidence, we keep missing each other.”
In his effort to get the mop out and ready for use, his shoulder jerked, hitting the shelf next to him.
Multiple books had come off at the impact, falling onto the floor and landing with a harsh thud. “Here, let me help.” Harry didn’t hear her, and he didn’t notice the speed at which she’d walked around the dining table and to the shelf, too soaked up in his nervousness and silently scolding himself.
Y/N crouched down, collecting the fallen books into a pile. “Thank you, I’m sorry for the mess.” He forced out.
She let out a giggle, then another, and then a proper laugh. He only stared at her in utter bewilderment, wondering whether he was a joke, or she was a madwoman. “Sorry,” She calmed down, a few chuckles still coming between her words. “you’re just so oddly charming.”
The Ravenclaw took notice of his expression, an adorable mixture of worrisome, flushed and somewhat flattered. “It’s a good thing. You’re cute.”
“Cute?”
She shuffled closer to him to reach for the stack of books he’d picked up, the pair of them now fully sat on the cold floor. “Yes, Potter. Cute.”
He turned his head to face her, they were now aware of their proximity, the closeness. The lack of space between them. His brows furrowed nonetheless, his mouth forming a pout. “Cute? Really?”
“Would you prefer another adjective? Adorable?” Her face moved toward his, a bashful smile playing on her lips. “Harry?”
“Yes?” The call of his name didn’t aid him in snapping out of his trance, he was hypnotized by the colour of her eyes, the strawberry scent of her moisturizer filling his nostrils. “Can I kiss you?”
With her nod, their lips joined, his hand travelling to cup her cheek.
The front door shut, with a brief announcement from her parents, declaring their return. “Better get to work.” Y/N whispered, patting his chest twice before returning back to her study station.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 
here you’ll find the list of characters and fics i’ve written relating to sherlock.
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Fall For Me, Fall For You - Fem!Reader Sherlock and Y/N contemplate their nature.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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Fall For Me, Fall For You - s.h
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sherlock and Y/N contemplate their nature.
Content Warnings: nothing, doesn't really make sense? might be out of character for Sherlock.
"I'm just trying to make sense of it all, really."
The car was almost freezing, leather interior bitterly cold to the touch, headlights ever so often driving by, surpassing them. Sherlock, of course, in the driver's seat as always. No one payed enough attention to their surroundings like he did, even on the road. "I don't even know if there's anything to make sense of." She finished.
"You told me to pull over." Sherlock reminded, almost stern.
"It's not fair, you know? You're able to deduce all that bullshit about me, do I even know who you are?"
His head hung low. In shame? Maybe. "I don't think even I know the specifics of who I am." The mood, although already quite low, dampened at his confession. "When has my bullshit ever been wrong?" His weak attempt at prying a smile out of her failed.
"You'll eventually figure it out. Who you are." He didn't say anything, only raising his chin at her statement. "You don't fall in love often, do you?"
The man raised an eyebrow at her. "And you do?"
"I'm not sure. For all I know, we could be the same." She shrugged.
"I think we are, the same."
Y/N looked at him, vision trailing over the line of his jaw, to the curls that rested atop his head. She thought about the feeling of his cheek in her grasp, running her thumb over the sharp, pronounced bone structure. "Is it not the same to fall in love with the birds and the blue sky?" Her voice was a mere whisper, she shifted in the cold leather seat.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her question, the manner of it more poetic than anything he'd ever heard. "You would compare a lover to the blue sky?"
He was no romantic, of course. "Would you say we're lovers? Star-crossed lovers?" The woman queried, her gaze on him curious.
Scoffing, he refused to look in her direction, not out of malice, but in fear. "Hardly star-crossed."
She finally smiled, content with his reply. "Good." Y/N peered down to her shoes, then up to the dashboard as a small smirk tugged on the corner of her lips. "Sherlock, do I ask too much of you?"
"Not nearly enough, darling."
"Would you kiss me?"
"At the very least."
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱
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Ideal Woman - Fem!Reader Y/N doesn't need any man to entice her with a better life, but when Thomas Shelby returns, she might not be able to help herself.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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Ideal Woman - t.s
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader
Summary: Y/N doesn't need any man to entice her with a better life, but when Thomas Shelby returns, she might not be able to help herself.
Content warnings: Illegal gambling, smoking, drinking, snitching, money laundering, allusions to smut. Reader is said to be in her early 20s, roughly 8 years younger than Tommy as the story takes place in late 1918.
"Alright, Y/N?"
Ralph grinned at the young woman as she shrugged on her coat. It was during the day, safe to go for a quick drink before the pool hall got busy in the evenings, God knows she'll need it to avert drunk men from destroying her establishment. "Just heading out for a drink."
He pursed his lips. "I don't recommend the Garrison for you today." She raised an eyebrow at his words. "Thomas Shelby's back."
"I'll welcome him back a hero, then."
Lighting the cigarette that rested between her lips, Y/N inhaled, the burning feeling within her chest soothing her as she readjusted her coat, hoping to shield herself from the nippy December cold.
She took another drag from the cigarette before entering the Garrison, cigarette now between her fingers as she stepped in, settling in to her usual spot at the end of the bar. "A whiskey, please, Harry."
Thomas Shelby, a man with a mind plagued by war, barely recognized the figure that sat seven seats away from him. He remembered, a girl from so long ago a certain warmth to her touch, a softness to her features and a glow lingering off her skin. She was now a woman, a woman with no smile who found relief in a glass of whiskey, a woman with sharp features all over, sharp jaw, sharp eyes.
Harry noticed his staring, taking it upon himself to inform. "Y/N L/N." Tommy nodded, already aware of her name. "A businesswoman now, runs the pool hall at the end of the road. A bit sad, though."
This piqued his interest. "Sad? How so?"
The barman shrugged. "No one knows. It's a shame, really, so young yet so sad."
With a nod of thanks, the Blinder stood and began making his way to the snug. Just his luck, a certain woman was stationed between him and his destination. "Thomas Shelby."
Slowly, he turned at the call of his name. "Y/N."
"Didn't know you'd be back so soon."
He attempted a chuckle, unable to produce a witty comeback. "Miss me?"
"Just a little."
With her reply, a surge of confidence had shot up his backbone. "Join me for a drink in the snug then."
Y/N finally looked him in the eyes. She was afraid this would happen, afraid of getting lost in those big blue eyes of his, as if she were in a maze. After all these years, she was still so captivated, biting her lip at the sight of cold, icy blue. Withdrawing the cigarette from her lips, she blew the smoke in his direction with a charming smirk. "Alright."
He held the door open like a true gentlemen, mind practically blank as she sat across from him. Tommy took time to observe her as silence clung onto the air, from her shoes to the gorgeous shade of pink that coated her lips.
"Business going good?" She queried, receiving a nod.
"I'm surprised," He announced. "four years ago you were a barmaid. How does a girl like you have a pretty silk skirt like that?"
It was no ordinary question, not to mention the brash nature of it, she knew what he was truly asking. "No, Tommy, I'm not married. I'm always here for you to sweep me off my feet." Y/N quipped. "I have a small place, not too far from here."
"The pool hall?"
She seemed impressed at his knowledge. "You ask about me, Shelby?"
Ignoring her question, Tommy quirked a brow. "Business must be good down at the pool hall then?"
The young woman knew what he was insinuating, after all she was aware of the true nature of the Shelby family's criminality. "I'm not a threat to you, don't worry about me. You do your work, I'll do mine."
"I never said you were."
Y/N stood, downing the last of her whiskey and grabbing her bag. "You should come down, sometime."
<3
Tommy wasted no time appearing before the shop the next day, with a somewhat sparse bouquet of fifty white carnations.
"Members only. To become a member, please take a seat." Ralph said, voice monotoned as if he said the words multiple times each day. He looked up at the visitor. "Mr. Shelby."
"Where would you like me to sit?"
The clerk nervously grinned at the joke. "Ms. L/N is right through there."
With a nod, he began making his way through, observing the various men with their drinks, money and pool cues. It was obvious who was losing, whether it was a high stake bet or a playful game of pool.
Y/N was in a far corner, brushing an unoccupied table of any dust, frequently eyeing the rowdy members, hoping to catch any misconduct. Instead, she caught a sight of icy blue once again. "You came."
"You sound surprised." He somewhat awkwardly handed her the bouquet, tense shoulders loosening ever so slightly at her smile.
A soft smile, completely abstract compared to the sharp features of her face, beautiful sharp features that hold a beautifully soft smile.
"Thank you." Pretty lipstick painted lips thinned out into a shy smile. "If you can give me a minute to grab my coat, we can go for a walk? If you want."
"Alright."
Handing the bouquet to Ralph with very strict instructions to put them in water, she shrugged on her coat, a distinct, deep emerald green finished with glossy black buttons.
He took note on how she left it open, despite the mind and body numbing cold, probably to show off the creme colored chiffon dress and black stockings underneath, a change from the white tights she wore many years ago as a teenager. "How are you adjusting?"
Tommy only nodded as the woman beside him left the topic alone. "How are you doing?"
The question was foreign to her. "I've been better." Y/N answered, but the look on his face told her he wanted to know more, to know everything. "Harry couldn't afford to keep me working at the Garrison, so I tried to find work as a maid, or a governess, anything. But-"
"But they wouldn't take you because you're a pretty girl that'd make any husband tempted to fuck you." The Shelby finished for her, the corners of his lips tugging upward at her shy gin.
"Your Aunt Pol took me in, payed me to look after the house, Ada and Martha. So I saved up, and bought the store and the place above it."
"So what's above then? Top secret?"
"More like my flat."
She lit a cigarette, offering it to her companion who accepted. "What's this flat of yours like, then?" Tommy teased, catching a glimpse of the lipstick print on the cigarette, stomach doing uncharacteristic flips of excitement when his lips made contact with the mark.
"Maybe one day you'll see it."
They continued through the streets of Small Heath, occasional small talk making the odd appearance until they stopped where they began, the pool hall.
<3
Months passed, and the pair often spent time together on dates. Thomas Shelby wasn't too much of a romantic, but he certainly had his moments as they spent their time together in wholesome bliss. He didn't ask questions about her operation and she didn't care for the details of his, thus creating peace within their bubble.
"Thank you, Grace." Y/N smiled at the new barmaid, sensing her uneasiness. "I'll see what I can do about Tommy, yeah?"
Grace perked up at this, nodding gratefully.
"You've got to go easy on her." She told her date, placing their drinks on the hardwood table before settling under his arm.
The Blinder didn't react. "Arthur's going easy on her." He lit the cigarette that hung from her lips. "There's a new copper in town."
The young woman shifted, humming as she took a long drag. "I know, I heard. What do you think he's doing here?"
"Cleaning up the streets."
"Communists?" Eyebrows furrowed at his lack of response, Y/N moved away from his hold. "If something was going on, you'd tell me, right?"
Tommy cocked his head, plucking the cigarette from her clasp, tracing a finger down her jaw. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"Will something happen, Tommy?"
He ignored her question, cradling her face in his hands, thumb running over the sharp edge of her cheekbone. "Pretty girl." He whispered, eyes locked on hers, unable to look away.
Her gaze wasn't as strict, roaming from the freckled skin of his cheeks to plump lips that were a little too far away. "Is that all I am, a pretty girl?" She taunted with a pleased smirk.
Huffing at what seemed like a ridiculous remark, he shifted his hand to the back of her head, brushing through the neatly styled hair with slender fingers before pulling her close, lips colliding with no hesitation.
The privacy of the snug had only made the kiss more romantic.
It wasn't anything like how Y/N imagined it, her guess was that Tommy Shelby didn't differentiate between work and women, but it was obvious from the cradling of her cheek to the delicate swipes his tongue made across her lower lip that her imagination was wrong, as she greatly appreciated the soft nature of his touches.
"Sorry!" Grace squealed, shutting the door before it was able to open fully.
The couple broke apart, her arms secure around his neck, his hooked around her waist. "Come in, Grace." Tommy didn't utter a sound unlike his girlfriend, only eyeing the blonde with a slight suspicion as the two ladies made light conversation in hopes to recover from the awkward moment. "I've got to get going to my parents'."
"I'll drive you." The Shelby announced, already raring to go.
Bidding others at the bar adieu, the couple departed from the Garrison's. The drive ahead was silent, a sense of giddiness filling the air around them. "Stop here." Y/N pointed to an alleyway just before her parents' house. "Have to change. Be my shield, will you?"
She handed him the cotton dress, rushing into the alley as he followed behind. "Ashamed of me?"
"I only give them thirty five pounds a month, can't let them know I wear silks while walking these streets."
The sight of her slipping off the pretty white dress had erased whatever thought he harbored.
Fully dressed, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek with a swift goodbye, only to be held back by the grip on her wrist. "Is that it?" Rolling her eyes, the businesswoman laid her hands against the smooth fabric of his suit.
"Kiss me once and you think you're going to get a lifetime's supply?"
"I sure hope so."
Heart soaring at his reply, Y/N connected their lips, rubbing any residue she left on his mouth off with her sleeve.
<3
"There's someone here for a membership."
"Send him in, Ralph."
The office was a dreary section of the pool hall, only fostering a desk and over a thousand documents. Membership documentation, reports, incidents and in a certain cupboard resided a lot of money.
A man entered, layered in multiple coats to fight the weather, his speech breathy as if he'd been running. Y/N couldn't quite recognize where she'd seen him from. "Mr." She looked at the form before her. "Charleston. Fifteen pounds, or."
She was praying whatever he had was good, certain a man of his character wasn't able to afford one of the most expensive yet elite poolrooms in Small Heath. "The new copper in town is on a mission to find guns, a lot of them."
"This has nothing to do with me, Mr. Charleston. The matters of the police aren't my business, or worth the fee of a membership."
Charleston grinned maliciously. "I know who has the guns," He paused. "Thomas Shelby."
The lady gulped, returning her attention to the documentation before her. "Sorry, sir, I can't help you here. Either it's fifteen pounds or you can leave."
"I'll take it to the police."
She couldn't, no, Y/N wouldn't let her boyfriend's idiocy reach the police, whether it was true or not. "That wouldn't be a very good idea."
"I bet the police would think differently."
Her hands slammed the table in horror, making the older man jump. "I have those guns." The lie had shocked both parties as the former composed herself. "Tell you what, Mr. Charleston, if you give me your word and never speak of this again, you can have your membership for free."
He seemed overjoyed by the offer, taking it instantly.
<3
Tommy raised his fist to knock on the door of the pool hall, well into the night as he waited for it to close, a bouquet of white carnations in his hand.
His smile had disappeared when he was pulled on harshly by his girlfriend, forced upstairs into a flat he hadn't seen before. She snatched the flowers from him, turning away to replace the ones he'd bought just over a week ago. "You're going to tell me what the fuck is going on, now."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Y/N scoffed, facing him as she steadied herself against the counter, mind clouded with rage and what seemed like hurt. "I encouraged you to do the powder trick with the Chinese, had no problem with you fixing races without Kimber, but guns, Tommy? Guns that belong to the fucking state?"
He stood, eyes narrowed in equal anger and confusion. "Who told you?"
"All that matters is that if you do anything with those guns, you're a walking corpse. You'll be hung, Thomas!"
Taking long strides towards her, Tommy gathered her wrists in his hands gently. "Who told you?" His voice was low, terrifyingly steady.
"Those who want memberships but can't afford it can," She sniffled at her confession. "tell me of any illegal activity. If it's valuable, I take it to the coppers and they pay me, a lot. One of your boys came in-"
"One of my boys?"
"Delivery. He came in, told me, I lied and said it was me. Gave him a new membership to shut him up and let you deal with it." Lip quivering, Y/N looked up at him, at the sight of his stoic face that masked the rage underneath. "I don't accept anything on the Shelbys, you know I wouldn't."
"I know." Keeping a hold on her arms, the Shelby guided her to the small dining table fit for two, kneeling before her. "You're safe, the guns are hidden, alright? We're safe."
"I could get shut down completely."
"Not on my watch."
A strange silence fell upon them in their unfortunate state. "Would you like tea?"
He nodded, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. "I would."
She stood, making her way to the kitchen but not before resting a hand on his shoulder on her way there.
Tommy stood tall, discovering his surroundings. The lazy-made bed, papers with too many words piled on the bedside table, photos perched on shelves and surfaces, no doubt taken long ago from her teenage years.
He joined Y/N, hovering behind her as his hands rested on her waist, chin nestled in the crook of her neck. "I could watch you like this forever."
"Really? Forever?"
"And more."
"Careful, Shelby, your seducing might work."
He didn't stop at her warning, spinning her around to meet him, swaying to no beat in particular as he worked on the tricky zipper at the back of her dress. "I love you." Tommy muttered against the bare skin of her shoulder, pressing amorous kisses from her neck to her collarbones.
"I love you, too." She voiced, tugging on the short hair atop his head, messy steps making their way towards the bed.
Their endeavors had escalated so sweetly under the confines of her duvet, wanton moans complimenting the creaky bed, the craving for skin against skin everlasting with tangled limbs.
"I wish you'd join me." The Peaky Blinder spoke, tracing the silliest of shapes on her stomach, Y/N propped herself up enough to look down at him, but not enough to interrupted the imaginary art he was tracing onto her abdomen. "We could go legal, limited. Arthur and John don't have the knack for business like we do."
"I thought you hated the word? Limited?"
Tommy shrugged. "I'd be with you. Freedom is a concept, an idea. You're here, you're real. Beautifully real." His hand travelled from her belly to her hips, then to her waist and soon reaching her hand, holding it in his, proving his point.
"Are you proposing?"
Without a word, he leaned over, stretching off the bed to reach into his coat pocket. "Finn lost the box, but I have the ring." He held the jewellery carefully, round cut diamond glimmering in the sliver of sunlight that'd successfully peaked through the curtains.
Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth, to conceal her elated gasp. "Y/N L/N," Thomas started with a smile that most definitely reached his eyes. "will you marry me?"
"Oh, yes, Tommy. Of course. Fuck, yes!"
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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The person you met… was the person cool and nice to you?
he was!
I'd gone out with some friends to a popular spot, they were off doing something and I'd opted to stay behind. He approached me as I was smoking, (I'm an occasional smoker) and I offered to share my cigarette.
It was cold, we sat together sharing the one cig, having light conversation about where we're from, it was lovely.
when I returned to my friends, he came up to me later in the evening and asked if we could eat together. We went to the nearest fast food joint, talked and had a good time.
After eating, I went to search for my friends and he disappeared. It was a one time thing, but really nice nonetheless.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
Text
Muggle Inventions - s.b
Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sirius and Y/N's first meeting at the astronomy tower.
Content warnings: Smoking, mentions of gambling, swearing. Reader is presumed to be in Gryffindor, but could be in any house. Takes place in their 6th year, it's stated that reader's family live in London, but her nationality isn't mentioned.
A short Harry Potter fic based on how I met someone last night.
Parties weren't a rare occurrence in the Gryffindor common room, with students such as James Potter and Sirius Black, the tower was never quiet during the weekends.
The astronomy tower wasn't a long walk away, anyone could make it across the courtyard within minutes. Y/N resisted any reaction to the piercing December cold, finding relief in the cigarette that rested between her fingers.
"Managed to sneak some in?"
She jumped ever so slightly at the unknown voice, turning to just about recognize the silhouette of a boy she saw often in the corridors. "Mhm."
He sat down beside her silently, taking the cigarette from her fingers, accepting her equally quiet offer and taking a long drag. "What brought you to Wormtail- sorry, Peter's party?"
"Ludo forced me to come."
"As in Ludo Bagman?" The young girl nodded, taking her puff back as they took turns going at it. "Quite a gambler he is."
"And he cheats." She added, eliciting a chuckle from the boy. "Your name?"
The Gryffindor was shocked, no one had asked him for his name in 5 years due to his ever growing fame within the halls of Hogwarts school as Sirius Black, notorious womanizer. He was certainly relieved that his playboy repertoire hadn't made it to the brain of the gorgeous girl next to him. "Sirius Black. It's very... old fashioned. Yours?"
"Y/N L/N. It's very..." She struggled with a word to describe herself.
"It's very you. As in, it suits you."
An intoxicated Mary Macdonald stumbled onto the balcony in a fit of cackles. "Hey, you guys!"
"Hi, Mary." Y/N smiled at her friend. "You alright there, darling?"
"Yeah, yeah. You guys good?"
Sirius nodded with a tight smile, and after much assurance, Mary had rejoined the party, leaving the pair and their cigarette alone once again. "Where do you live?"
"An odd question for someone you just met."
He laughed at her statement, the smallest hint of a smirk on her lips as she flicked the ash off of the smoke. "If you think about it, we do live in this castle together, we're roommates. Spouses, if we must."
Y/N shrugged. "Fair enough. I live in London, by Harrow on the Hill."
"Nice place?"
"It's alright, fucking boring. What about you?"
"I live with James, near here in Scotland." He declined the cigarette offer, watching as she took the last puff before stomping it out. "I'm hungry, we should go eat."
"Sure."
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
Note
Hi! I just wanted to thank you for writing for house. I just started getting into the show and I'm honestly kinda sad at the lack of content especially in the reader insert section (it's one of my main comfort fic genre to read) :') I love your writing and really appreciate you writing! Keep up the amazing work lovely <3
thank you! hopefully sometime next week I will get back to writing regularly, and I'll have a ton of house requests out :)
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
Text
Wine Drinkers - f.w
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Everybody has vices, and everyone has a limit.
Content warnings: alcoholism, cheating, emotional and verbal abuse, allusions to smut, toxic toxic toxic. Fred doesn't die and the war is not mentioned, set during 1999 (Fred and reader are 21).
"You're fucking crazy!"
"Well, at least I can go an hour without a glass of whisky in my hand!"
Placing the glass down rather harshly, he approached her, only for her to take two steps back for every step he took forward. "Well, it's your fucking fault."
A newfound rage had issued within Y/N as her chest heaved. "I'm so fucking sorry that you're a boozer, Fred! And I'm sorry that I force you to fuck every woman you look at!"
"What did you just call me?"
"I called you a fucking boozer, get over it!"
She stood still, unfazed by the carelessness embedded into her words as he shortened the distance between them. "And if I don't? You're gonna run away?"
The mention of her endeavors had Y/N shifting, uncomfortable in her own skin. "I wouldn't have to run away if you weren't an emotional fucking terrorist."
"You still don't have to go."
"And you don't have to be such a prick."
And with that, she grabbed her coat and slammed the front door shut, leaving Fred Weasley to groan in anger at no one but himself.
Oliver Wood's distinguished career as player for Puddlemere United's quidditch team had always been what felt like a dream. Despite his rising fame, the stress of training and loneliness had made him frustrated.
All that changed a year ago.
Another victory for Puddlemere was being celebrated at a nearby muggle bar, the room bustling with players in muggle clothing rather than their robes, drinks being passed around.
Oliver couldn't help but notice a familiar figure bent over the pool table, taking her shot and missing the pocket by merely a centimeter. "Motherfucker." He heard her mutter.
"Need some help, L/N?"
She looked up, dull eyes surprised by his presence. "Wood. I wouldn't expect you to know your way around a cue."
He smirked, planting himself beside her, a hand on the small of her back. "It's close enough to a broom." He urged her to stoop down to her previous position, hot breath fanning over her cheek as he adjusted her arms by the pool cue. "There you go."
She drew the stick back, following through and grinning as the ball fell into the corner pocket. "Not bad."
In truth, she hadn't expected to bang Oliver Wood in the dirty bathroom of a muggle bar, but Fred wasn't her first thought when he was fucking her senseless into the wall. Y/N hadn't slept with anyone besides the redhead in four years, but damn did it feel good to get back at him for their fight earlier that day.
"I never thought you'd come to a place like this." The quidditch player breathed out, her head against his shoulder as they experienced the aftermath of their quickie.
"I live near here, at the apartment block on Oxford. With Fred."
"You two still together?"
"Yeah."
He never minded her relationship status, aware of their state, and his friendship with Fred hadn't lasted after school. It was an unspoken deal, just sex for him to destress and for her to feel something other than vexation.
Christmas at the burrow was always particularly a magical occasion, and never a small one. Children, spouses and friends were always welcome to spend the day with the most thoughtful gifts and homemade cooking.
The young couple entered through the door, Fred calling out their arrival as the family came to greet them. Hermione and Ginny were the first to hug Y/N, pitiful eyes looming at her, flickering in her boyfriend's direction. "Come on you guys, it's Christmas." The elder girl reasoned.
She avoided any interaction with Fred, opting to play exploding snap with Harry. "What's going on with you and Fred?"
"Nothing."
"You're not a very good liar."
"You're not very good at this game."
The boy snatched the card away before she could touch it. "It's been like this for a year, Y/N, we miss the way you guys were before. When is it going to end?"
"What's going on over here?" The Weasley sauntered over, slinging an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders.
Y/N gave him a minuscule smile. "Nothing, darling."
He accepted the answer. "You want a drink?"
"No, thanks. I think you've had enough too."
Fred lowered his voice. "Come on, babe. Don't be a fucking buzzkill."
"You're unbelievable." She whispered back, walking away from him with a scoff.
The entire night was practically unbearable, with the pair whispering sly comments to each other and sending dirty looks from across the table. The entire family could feel the tension, and poor Molly was nearly brought to tears when she saw the grief in Y/N's eyes.
Choosing not to apparate home due to the population of muggles in their area, they settled to take a cab instead, too tired to walk.
"I hope you liked your gift."
"I did, Fred."
He placed his hand over hers, smiling lazily when she held it with no hesitation. "Thank you." He whispered, not sure as to why he was thanking her in the first place. For her gift? For holding his hand even though he'd been a massive dick?
They arrived home, the air holding onto such silence, a pin could drop and it would echo throughout the small flat. Fred gripped her hand before she could get away, leaning in to kiss her before being pushed away. "I can smell the alcohol on you." She grimaced, walking towards the kitchen.
"Then you should go screw Oliver Wood."
Y/N steadied herself against the counter. "Go fuck yourself, Fred."
"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to be like that when you're fucking my friend."
"He's not even your friend anymore."
"Right, that makes it so much better."
She popped open a bottle of wine, ready for the fight that was to come. "And you fuck half the population of London."
It went quiet, the sharp retaliation she braced herself for never came. No insult, or shouting. It was silent, the only noise was the slight grunt that escaped Fred's lips as he fell onto the sofa beside her. "We could be different, you know? Like how we used to be."
"No, we can't, Freddie." She paused, taking a swig from the bottle. "Remember 6th year?"
Fred pounded on the door to the girls dormitory, and no one dared to question how he'd outsmarted the charmed staircases. "Y/N, open the bloody door!"
"Go away!"
"You're not breaking up with me."
The door swung open. "Yes, I am."
Crossing his arms, he towered over her. "I won't let you."
"Why are you making this so hard?"
"Because I'm in love with you, alright? And I always will be."
The Weasley shrugged. "I didn't lie. I am in love with you, always will be."
"You think we could do it? Go back to being happy?"
"I think so."
He stood abruptly, gathering the stray bottles of wine, whisky and various other vices such as cigarettes, throwing them all into the bin by the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
"Making an effort."
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
Text
𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱
here you'll find the list of characters and fics I've written relating to harry potter.
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Unlawfully Real - Fem!Reader Fred and Y/N have always been the type to drive each other crazy, but it's only a matter of time before they drive each other crazy, despite many obstacles.
Wine Drinkers - Fem!Reader Everybody has vices, and everyone has a limit.
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Muggle Inventions - Young!Sirius Black, Fem!Reader Sirius and Y/N's first meeting at the astronomy tower.
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Housekeeping - Fem!Reader When Harry gets a part-time gig cleaning the house down the street to escape the Dursleys for a few hours a week during the summer, he soon recognises the residents’ daughter as his own schoolmate.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
Text
Unlawfully Real - f.w
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Fred and Y/N have always been the type to drive each other crazy, but it's only a matter of time before they drive each other crazy, despite many obstacles.
Content Warnings: Cheating, Takes place during Umbridge time but I haven't mentioned it at all for a clean plot, minor swearing.
Set in 1996, during the twins and Y/N's 7th year. For any confusion, winter holidays at Hogwarts apparently begin the Friday before Christmas (December 22nd, 1995.)
Merry Christmas to all that celebrate, and I wish you the happiest of New Years! Thank you for being patient with me, I know my list of fics to come has no dates, and that will remain the same until mid January as I am also moving house. As a thank you for your patience and 200 followers, here's my first ever Harry Potter fic!
"I'll see you during Christmas, yeah?"
"Yeah, of course." She leaned up to peck his lips. "Bye, Tom."
Tom said his goodbye, watching his girlfriend board the train. Y/N slipped into a nearby carriage containing the all too familiar Weasley twins, Lee Jordan and Oliver Wood. She glanced at her watch, 10 minutes until she had to make her rounds. "Tom Montague? You're joking." Fred commented, catching the head girl's attention.
"What? How did you know?"
"Freddie was stalking you through the window."
"Shut it, Lee." He muttered somewhat playfully. "Isn't he like a thousand years older than you?"
Amused at his exaggeration, she looked to him with a quirked brow. "He graduated last year, he's training to be a healer at St. Mungo's."
After subtle hums and responses of approval, except for Fred, the topic had been easily changed. "Hoping for a clean quidditch season, L/N."
"Of course, Wood."
"What do you even see in him?"
Carelessly leaning against the bookshelf, Fred frowned at the pile of books perched on his arms. "He's nice."
"Nice? You say hello to him if he's nice, not date the poor bugger."
Y/N let out an airy chuckle, almost a sigh, dropping 2 more books onto the stack as a punishment to the boy. "He's serious, he's pursuing what he wants to do." The Gryffindor nearly scoffed, placing the tower of countless textbooks and novels onto the nearby desk. "What are you doing?"
Taking one long stride towards her, he leaned down, hot breath fanning over her cheek. "You think I can't be serious? Can't pursue what I want to?"
Lump forming in her throat, she concealed her cough as a nervous chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous, Fred." She forced out, picking up half the stack of books as she pushed past him.
Letting out a deep breath, he followed after her slowly.
"You and Fred, huh?" A fellow student questioned Y/N with a smile.
"Shut up, Beth."
The couple of weeks after the library incident were torture, and the young girl couldn't stop herself from counting the days to winter holiday. A little over 10 weeks was way too long to wait for a holiday.
She sighed, fingertips tracing over the rough stone brick of the castle wall, hallway so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Perhaps she'd made a mistake accepting the position of Head girl, oh how she yearned to crawl into bed and wake up tomorrow to a delicious serving of pancakes, but instead she'd arise to finish whatever assignment she had before rushing off to class.
"Psst."
Jumping at the new sound, Y/N yelped at the presence of Fred. "What the hell are you doing? Go back to bed!"
He smirked, inching closer. "Or what? Are you going to take points away? Give me detention?"
She rolled her eyes at his taunts, not aware of their close proximity. "You test me a lot for someone at risk for a suspension."
"You're very testy."
His voice so close, plump lips too far, she took in the situation before her with a breath. "Fred?"
Leaning into the sound of her call, their lips brushed together ever so slightly. "Yes." He said it as a statement, not a reply or a question, a firm statement.
Smooth lips collided over hers, the most wonderful clash of teeth against teeth was soon forgotten by the warmth of his tongue against her own. A small gasp elicited from her as she hit the harsh stone wall, Fred releasing his own breathy laugh.
Suddenly, 10 weeks was too little time for the young pair's wanton endeavors as Y/N counted the days to winter holidays less and less. Perhaps if she didn't count at all, time would halt just for her, as a favor.
December 22nd was looming on them, only a mere two weeks away, savoring was all they could do for now.
"So, I was thinking," The ginger began, completely enamored by the girl beside him, under the sheets. "when you come over for Christmas, we could go ice skating down at the pond when it's frozen."
Her mouth fell agape, eyes nearly clouded opaque with sorrow. "Sorry, Freddie." His furrowed brow begged for an explanation. "I promised Tom I'd be at his for Christmas."
There it was, the reminder, it was bound to happen. The Montague boy had never come up in conversation, but every now and then he would find her owling a letter to him or giggling about him to oblivious friends. The secrecy of their affair was only further proof that Y/N wasn't his to keep. "Right."
Fred looked away from her, swinging his legs over the bed to sit right at the edge, is eyes didn't move from the old carpet of the girl's dormitory. "So, none of this was real."
Y/N shook her head profusely, tugging on his shoulder in an attempt to persuade him to look at her. "Don't say that, of course it was real, it was real to me."
He just turned, catching a glimpse of her tear stricken face, a gut wrenching pain blooming in his chest at the sight. "Then choose. Me, or him?"
"What?"
"You either spend Christmas with me or him." It was a simple declaration, something that sounded so trivial had the entire weight of their relationship balancing on it.
She was voiceless, no words leaving her mouth as tears cascaded down her cheeks. He took her silence as his answer, gathering his things and stopping at the door. "Goodbye, Y/N."
The five days left of term went too slow for anyone's satisfaction, hours feeling like centuries and minutes feeling like years. Students craved a break from school, and the festivities of Christmas while Y/N L/N just wanted to get away from Fred Weasley and his unwavering demeanor.
It didn't bother her that he didn't seem affected by their 'breakup', why should she care about how he recovered in the matter of days? It didn't matter that with every friendzoning smile he sent, a dagger was only being pushed deeper and deeper into her heart.
"Merry Christmas and happy new year, L/N."
"Happy Christmas, Wood. Have a great new year." She hugged Oliver in hopes of prolonging the goodbye process. Bidding her friends adieu, Y/N plastered on her best smile, praying for any sort of higher power to be on her side just for today. "Tom." She greeted, nearly timid.
The pit in her stomach only doubled in size when he scooped her up in a tight embrace. She nearly grimaced, mind clouded with the thought of Fred's arms wrapped around her so lovingly. "Y/N! I missed you, my family are somewhere over there."
Gripping Tom's wrist, the distant gleam in her tear glazed eyes was enough to silence him. "Tom, I can't." His eyes narrowed at her confession. "I can't do Christmas with your family, I just- I'm sorry, I can't be with you."
The obvious disappointment only placed a frown on the girl's face, no broken heart, no spillage of tears. "Alright, I'm sorry if I did anything wrong."
"No, no, Tom. You were perfect. Any girl would be lucky to have you, but it just can't be me. I really am sorry."
He shook his head. "No, it's okay. Do you need me to drop you home?"
His politeness even after breaking his heart had made a sad smile etch itself onto her lips. "My parents have sent the car over, so I'll drive myself home."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, it's not too far."
The drive home had seemed longer than usual. Perhaps she'd taken the wrong road? No. Y/N couldn't bear it when her intrusive thoughts of a certain Weasley were louder than the music on the radio.
The scene of their breakup had played on repeat in her head. She couldn't help but laugh at how he gave her a choice, and she didn't choose either of them. To hell with the Fred Weasleys and Tom Montagues, she was just fine on her own.
She arrived home feeling lighter, sunglasses pulled back on her head as she dropped her trunk by the door.
"Hello, darling! We didn't know you'd be home for the holidays!"
"Neither did I."
Telephones were possibly the best invention muggles had ever thought up Y/N mused to Hermione over the phone, twirling the cord around her finger.
"I went to the burrow a few days ago on boxing day."
The bright witch was one of the fewer people to know of her infidelity. "And?"
"In truth, Fred's a total mess. He has been for the two weeks you've been apart."
She shrugged as if Hermione could see her, lips pursed. "That's not my problem." The head girl spoke, voice cracking ever so slightly, revealing her lack of meaning.
"They're doing a small get together for New Years Eve, you should go. Maybe even get back together."
"I don't know, Hermione."
"Trust me, if this works, no one is ever going to hear either of you moping ever again."
She sighed as the conversation steered away from the topic, eventually ending in goodbyes. News of Fred's devastation had caught Y/N dumbfounded. Perhaps reconciliation would be good for them, she couldn't deny the nights she'd spend occupied with thoughts of him, with every Christmas gift she opened from friends she hoped one would be from him, although they never planned on getting each other anything.
Maybe reconciliation was possible.
Seeing her again was equivalent to 100 pounds of weight being lifted off of his shoulders.
In truth, he never expected her to walk through his front door any time in the near future. When his mother went to the door expecting one of Ron's friends, she and the family were pleased to find Y/N instead, shyly waving.
The house bustling with activity, everyone finally old enough to be up late to welcome the new year, it was a good few hours before she could finally approach Fred.
"Hi."
He remained winded for a moment, his gaze running up and down her frame in pure admiration, an action he didn't hide as well as he thought he did. "Hi, uh, you look beautiful."
She giggled at his nervousness, a bashful smile gracing her pigment coated lips. "Thank you. Happy new year." He returned the wish, an odd silence falling between them. "I broke up with Tom." Just the words she'd been itching to get out, and he'd been itching to hear.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It was long overdue. What have you been up to?"
The redhead sent her a boyish smile. "George and I are thinking of opening up a joke shop, actually."
"That's great! I'm happy for you both."
"Yeah, thanks. I thought I'd take something away from what you said, it might not be serious but I am pursuing what I want to do."
The air around them felt thick, almost suffocating. "No, Fred, I think it's amazing."
"Alright everyone, countdown is beginning!" Molly called out, entering the living room.
Not even the shrill voice of hers could interrupt the young pair.
"10!"
"You don't need to be serious, or anything other than yourself. And I'm sorry if I made you feel that way because you, Fred Weasley, are perfect."
"9!"
"Really?"
"8!"
"Yes, and I mean it."
"7!"
"I'm sorry for leaving you like that."
"6!"
"Don't worry about it, Fred."
"5!"
"I think I'm in love with you."
"4!"
"What?" The counting had only gotten louder.
"3!"
"I'm in love with you!"
"2!"
"I think I'm in love with you too!"
"1! Happy new year!"
As loved ones around them paraded, graciously greeting 1996, Fred and Y/N didn't even notice the world around them as their lips connected. "I'm definitely in love with you." She murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
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colossalcriminal · 2 years
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ooo I like surgeon reader with Robert Chase!! could you done one where the reader is falling for Chase and vice versa but then she gets hesitate once she finds out he fell in love and got married to someone else who previously worked in the hospital. with happy ending
Begging for Heartbreak - r.c
Pairing: Robert Chase x Reader
Summary: In which Y/N is cautious about her not-boyfriend-boyfriend's past love life.
Content Warnings: Mentions of divorce, mutual pining.
"God, I'm done for the night."
Haley, a fellow surgeon, groaned as she swung her bag over her shoulder, slamming her locker shut. Meanwhile, Y/N shrugged on her white coat, readjusting it on her shoulders. "Tough shift?" She received a nod. "Go home, get some sleep."
The former nodded, a sly smirk creeping onto her face. "How's it going with Chase?"
She nearly snorted at the question. "There is nothing going with Chase."
"Why not?"
"Because," She had nothing to say. No excuse, no reason.
Haley whined at her friend's daftness. "Okay, there's no real reason for you to not go for it. He likes you, you like him. So what if he was married?"
The doctor froze. "Married?"
"Yeah. He and Dr. Cameron were married. Not for long, though."
"Allison Cameron?"
"This is weird, I thought you knew." Haley looked to her watch. "I better get going, you have to start your shift."
-
Y/N had taken extreme measures to ensure that Robert Chase stayed a mile away at all times, by declining his coffee offer, to rescheduling her surgeries for earlier times. She'd successfully gone 3 days with little to no contact with him.
She wasn't sure which was more disheartening, the fact that he has an ex-wife, or that his ex-wife is a doctor.
"Is Y/N avoiding me?" Chase called after Haley who was finally working a day shift.
The woman shrugged, near a pout. "I don't know. She may just be a little on edge about things."
With a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand through his blond hair. "What do I do?"
"Take her out to dinner, show her a nice time."
That's what he'd do, he decided.
It took another day for him to hunt her down again, finding her giggling at the nurse's station with a coffee in her hand. "Y/N."
She practically jumped at his presence, nearly spilling the hot liquid contents of her cup. "Sorry, ladies, I gotta go. I have a consult with a patient. Julie, tell me how that dinner goes." Y/N began walking away, her colleague not far behind as his long legs took very long strides, soon walking right next to her. "Sorry, Robert, I'm busy."
"Where have you been?"
"What? Did you chase me down?"
Robert couldn't help but crack a smile at the pun, before remembering the matter at hand. "Why don't you go to dinner with me tomorrow? A date."
They'd only been on a couple of dates, coffee dates, breakfast, but somehow dinner seemed like a step so large it loomed over her like a shadow. They reached her office, her hand wrapping around the handle bar of her door as she turned to face him. "I want to, I really do, but I can't."
He frowned, defeated. "Why? Did I say something? Am I not good enough?"
"No, no! You're great, you're amazing, you really are." She'd let go of the door now, wringing her hands. "It's just, we could never work. I'm a doctor, you're a doctor. That's a concoction for distaster."
"Loads of couples here who are doctors work! Julie and her husband, John from the ER and his spouse are doing great."
"What about you and your ex-wife?" The question had caught him off guard as his mouth was left agape. She took his silence as confirmation, entering her office. "Exactly."
Chase followed her in, finally regaining his voice. "We didn't divorce because we were doctors. We divorced because," His head hung low. "she didn't like the impact House had on me. It was either I leave the hospital with her, or she leaves me."
Y/N's silence had left him anxious. "I'm sorry you went through that."
He nodded. "I really like you, Y/N, and nothing so trivial will ever stop me from wanting to be with you."
"I like you too, Robert." She readjusted his lab coat. "Dinner, tomorrow night?"
"Sounds good, I'll pick you up."
"Where are we going?"
He pondered for a moment. "Italian?"
She shook her head. "Indian?"
"Chinese?"
"We'll decide tomorrow."
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