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avis-writeshq · 7 months

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01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk.

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.”

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual.

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“In Culver City,” Derek adds.

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file.

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department.

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?”

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out.

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently.

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases.

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star.

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition.

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over.

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle.

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face.

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you, Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff.

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set.

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk.

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses.

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face.

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee.

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it.

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end.

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing.

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.”

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly.

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?”

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan.

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?”

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope.

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic.

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways.

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos.

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV.

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly.

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim.

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic, and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology.

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there.

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries.

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group.

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house.

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t.

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck.

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his.

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something.

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water.

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time.

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away.

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw.

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her.

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face.

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel.

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around.

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek.

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact.

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you.

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?”

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl.

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly.

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him.

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again.

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

***

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.”

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels.

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice.

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker.

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick.

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

***

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours.

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather.

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files.

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket.

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well.

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work.

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger.

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag.

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway.

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you.

“I won’t do it again,” he promises.

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles.

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant.

next part →

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4K notes · View notes

elliebarker · 21 days

Note

yessss cc fic plz there’s not nearly enough

fuɔk me. ( c. clark )

category: caitlin clark x girlfriend!reader (angst, fluff)

summary: after seeing you talking to another after one of her games, caitlin goes into an obsessive spiral of jealousy, unknowingly sending you down your own rabbit hole.

warnings: way sadder than i intended

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: i tried capital letters, y’all fw it?

_________________________________________

“I mean, it was electric, truly.”

Caitlin’s voice echoed into the microphone of a random media reporter who was interviewing her. She tried her best to stay focused on the questions whilst the camera clicked and pump-up music blared. Iowa had just won a home game and she knew you were in the crowd. She regained consciousness with the present and began answering the interview questions with basic textbook answers about ‘the Iowa culture’ and how great her shots felt, whilst scouring the stadium for you. You interlocked eyes and waved to her. She waved back and politely wrapped things up with the media girl (hehe) and headed your way.

In the minutes she had spent with her eyes off of you, an umich girl from the opposing team had walked up to you. She was, in Caitlin’s eyes, getting a little too friendly. Smirking, and smiling too wide. Caitlin backed away, choosing to head to her teammates instead and pose in photos with fans. See… people love me she thought. And we literally bet them and that fucking umich girl had the nerv-

“Caitlin!” you ran, hugging her from behind. “You do so good, omg!”

“Thanks, babe.” She slipped away from you, cold and isolated. Caitlin spent the night with the girls on her team, which wasn’t irregular for away games, but you were looking forward to getting to spend time with her when she was actually in town. You were slumped in your apartment, staring at yourself in the mirror, picking a pulling at your skin, hair, and hair. Meanwhile, Caitlin was glued to her phone in the corner of the room her teammates were in. Staring at that umich girl’s stats and Instagram. Caitlin knew she was a good player, she knew she was a good girlfriend, she knew you. She knew you wouldn’t do her wrong but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. About finding someone different. She knew she wasn’t there for you all the time, on account of her schedule with basketball that seemed never-ending. She felt like a bad girlfriend. You deserved the world, more than she could ever give you.

Sounds of shoes squeaking and balls dribbling filled her ears as Caitlin entered Iowa’s gym. After nights of stressing, overthinking, and flashes of your interaction with the umich girl appearing in her head, Caitlin was ready to clear her head with some practice. She stretched, dripped the ball a bit, and began shooting. First shot, miss. She went and grabbed the ball. Second shot, miss. Everyone has bad days. The third shot, she could barely focus, overwhelmed with this stinging feeling of inferiority as she missed that basket. “Fuɔk me,” she muttered under her breath. She suddenly turned around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Kate was standing, now facing her. “Hey Caitlin, can we talk?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of off…down, you okay?”

“Um yeah,” she tried to hold her guard up, “yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled, “Need to lock in.” Kate laughed, agreed, and went on with her practice.

Later that day you, being friendly with the Iowa team, reached out to Kate. You texted her,

You: hi kate!

i haven’t seen caitlin in a bit and just wanted to check in and make sure she’s doing okay

Kate: Hey! Thanks for reaching out, she has been acting a little weird.

I was going to ask you but I guess you don’t know what’s up either.

You: no, i don’t know

has she talked about me?

at all?

Kate: No, not really. Is everything okay?

You: (…)

You stared at your phone for a solid five minutes attempting to keep your emotions under control.

You: yep! everything's good

just been a hot minute since ive seen her

but thats prob just cause shes so busy lol

Kate: Fair. But if anything does you can always talk to me.’

You: awww thanks kate! that's so sweet.

Days passed and you finally got a day to spend with Caitlin. You had invited her over to your apartment. You had excitedly and worriedly done up your hair and makeup, cleaned and refreshed every inch of your apartment: fresh sheets and fresh flowers, and made sure to wear an outfit you knew she liked. You felt it in your bones that your behavior was suspicious and 100% fueled by insecurity but you told yourself that you were doing this to make Caitlin feel comfortable, let her relax from working so hard. Totally not convincing her to want to stay with you.

You and Caitlin were in your bed watching a tv-show and you could sense something was off. “Hey baby, can I get you anything?” you ask, trying to make yourself useful.

“Um, yeah sure,” she replied, “water works.” You scoot yourself off the bed and head to the kitchen. Caitlin watches as you walk away, thinking about how you’re perfect in every way. She pulls out her phone, and her most recent search on instagram, umich bitch, is controlling her thoughts again.

You come back with a glass of water for Caitlin and see she’s engulfed in her phone. Goddamnit you’ve bored her.

“I’m sorry,” you muster out. The stress of the possible end of your relationship that you conquered up in your head makes you almost fold into tears.

Caitlin sprung up, “Sorry, babe, sorry about what?” she went to hold you. You slithered yourself out of her arms,

“You’re probably sick of me, I need to stop holding onto you.”

“What?” Caitlin asked, “Okay, first of all, I would never be sick of you. You are the most gorgeous, fearless, kindest, perfect girl I’ve ever seen. I would be crazy to ever let you go. But I know you deserve, you need better than me.” your tears turned to happy ones as you exclaimed,

“Caitlin what? You are the best girlfriend in the whole wide world.” You grabbed her face in your hands as hers found their natural place around your hips.

“I love you,” she whispered before moving her face close to yours and kissing you passionately. Your arms wrapped themselves around her neck as you leaned into the kiss. You slightly pulled away, whispering back,

“I love you too.” Caitlin then pulled open her phone, to delete the umich player from her search history, but not without catching your nosy eye. “Wait. This was about her?”

“What?” Caitlin said, trying to sound clueless.

“I spoke to her for five seconds? Wait…you were jealous?” you inquired.

“No- I- who-” she stuttered, trying to deny it. “Also, I don’t get jealous.”

“You goofball,” you said, pulling her into a deeper kiss, to which Caitlin picked you up and plopped you back onto your bed, pulling you into her chest, and kissing your forehead.

“I don’t get jealous” she re-enstated.

“Mhmmmmm…” you replied, nodding your head, in a non-believeing tone. “Got it. Not jealous.”

“I’m being serious,” she said. You, too lazy to lift your head, nodded and closed your eyes falling into a deep sleep, to which Caitlin would follow you.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #wbb #ncaa wbb #wbb x reader #caitlin x reader #wbb fanfic #caitlin clark fic

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sorryimananti-romantic · 9 months

Text

Aurora

strategist!yunho x spy!reader

falling in love with the enemy?au

genre and warnings: some fluff, loads of angst, slow burn, suggestive, manipulation, betrayal, lies lies lies, blood and violence warnings, swearing, human lab rats, mentions of self-harm (picking at old scars), lmk if i missed sth.

word count: 26.5k

synopsis: you're finally working at halaland's most prestigious research centre as a skilled cryptographer. reality is, you're a utopian spy trained by the crescents to uncover the suspicious activity in the medical research department. to get there, you must first become a part of jeong yunho's strategy team and win his favour. however, as you both get closer, the presence of secrets burden you both and you know you're up for eventual heartbreak when you fall in love. you dread when he'll learn who you truly are.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (made sure i got my ass working on this and yeah couldn't have done this without her <3)

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you stepped within Halaland, legally, for the first time. One could argue about the legality of your admission into the country but as far as everyone was concerned, you were a Halaland native returning from Mist Island after training.

“The wind is not different. The land is the same. I wonder why we have so many differences?” You wondered out loud and Seonghwa shot you a warning look, making the others in the car squirm.

“No matter how much this place feels like home, remember what you are here for,” Seonghwa looked at all three of you as he said. Everyone nodded in synchrony. “As of this moment… we’re strangers and I’m just the poor Mr. Park who was unfortunate enough to be collecting young female researchers from around the continent. Now… I hope you all remember who you are?”

“Aurora,” you called your new name, the way it rolled off your lips feeling foreign even to you. “For the cryptography team.”

“And the strategy team if you’re lucky,” Seonghwa reminded you of the first step towards your ultimate goal and you gulped, nodding. While he talked to Byeol and Nami, you resorted to watching the apple farm pass by as you drew closer to the Capital.

If someone had asked you a few years ago- before the war with Utopia began- what profession you saw yourself in, you’d say teaching in a breath. Teaching maths. Your original dream, before Halaland announced war on your home and snatched everything from you- family, friends, and dreams.

It was ironic that you were now in the very land you hated to the core, as their researcher. As the notorious Halazia Research Center- home to the most dangerous weapons on the continent- came into view, you couldn’t help but wow at the endless array of towers and buildings that must make up half of the Capital. It looked plain enough for the horrors it had been producing for a decade now. You straightened and put on a practised smile before you stopped at the gate for identification.

Thankfully, none of you held your breath as they went through your tags and got a good look at you. Seonghwa said a few words to the guards and then they let you through, leading the car to the Security Office.

You got off and took a quick glance around at the grey structure and the signs in their native language before greeting the middle-aged man who you very well recognised.

“Ladies, it’s a pleasure to finally have you here,” he took off his hat and tipped his head in greeting and the three of you curtsied. “I am Dr. Eric Cho, co-director of Halazia. I hope your journey wasn’t too troublesome- I understand you had to travel through land due to the circumstances…”

“Not at all,” Byeol passed her trademark gummy smile, one that charmed not only men but women as well. “I always wanted to see what Utopia looked like. I have to admit it wasn’t much.”

Dr. Cho seemed to like that attitude and he laughed out loud. “I’m sure it’s got some hidden gems too.”

“We travelled around the border so they probably don’t have much to share about the sights,” Seonghwa dug out cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to the doctor and you watched them light each other’s cigarettes, sharing a moment which made rage simmer in your throat but you tightened your smile- Seonghwa was only acting. “Shall I take them inside?”

Dr. Cho motioned for one of the officers to escort you inside the Security Office and you weren’t surprised by how thoroughly you were all checked- they didn’t spare one inch on your body, which made you feel a bit uncomfortable. When you were done and came outside, Dr. Cho scanned you.

“Are you the one who decrypted our code in the shortest time so far?”

“3 minutes and 28 seconds, Doctor,” you saluted. “Aurora Han at your service.”

“That’s a whole 2 minutes shorter than the previous record-holder,” his eyes twinkled and you passed a proud smile. “Do you know what can happen in 2 minutes?”

“The world can change in 2 seconds.”

“I like her,” Dr. Cho laughed. “Cryptography Department, is it?”

“Keep an eye on her,” Seonghwa nodded. “Puzzles are not the only thing she is good at.”

Before the doctor could ask more, Byeol and Nami were out and the five of you had lunch where the doctor briefed you about the ambitions of this research centre and what they were striving for. It was pretty well rehearsed and felt like something he had narrated multiple times so you just listened to every word and nodded like a schoolgirl. After that, you followed an officer to the Cryptography Department where you filled the paperwork so you could get a pass and start working from tomorrow.

“Shall I ask one of those guys to give you a tour of the department?” The officer asked, looking pretty tired.

“It’s alright, I’ll just find my way to the dorms, I think the fatigue is finally catching up,” you said and he bowed before leaving. You picked up your belongings and exited the office, taking a deep breath.

This was it.

After 3 years of training as a member of Crescent- a group of spies in Utopia that infiltrated into Halaland to find something, anything to win the goddamned war, you were finally here. As you walked along the corridors, peeking into the labs and memorising the path, you couldn’t help but feel both terror and a sense of accomplishment. You weren’t afraid, no. You were terrified of the fact that whatever you did here could turn the tide of the war.

You were looking at the picture of the alumni of the department, recalling their names in your head. You remembered what the Captain- the mastermind behind the Crescents- had said time and time again:

“The easiest way to get wherever you want is to get into your senior’s good graces. The easiest way to get caught, however, comes after that.”

You were staring holes at the picture of the person you wanted to approach first when someone cleared their throat behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“You seem to know them.”

You turned around with a hand on your heart, greeted by a tall figure in a uniform you very well recognised, the black outfit producing a striking contrast with the gold medals and red details. The Strategy Department.

“Of course I know them,” you managed to say as you took a careful step away. “Who doesn’t?”

He smiled, standing beside you. “Are you the new recruit?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you couldn’t help yourself and he grinned. You stifled a smile- he had quite a friendly face. “Do you work here too?”

“I work… around,” he said and you didn’t probe further. “I’m mostly on the field though. I bring data back. So… Miss?”

“Han. Han Aurora,” you told him and he nodded.

“Aurora,” he tested, a subtle raise of his brow as he scanned you and you licked your suddenly dry lips. “Do you need help finding the dorms? I reckon you’d want to get rid of your bags before you memorise every face on the frames in this hall.”

“Sadly, yes,” you replied. You could return his humour if that was what he wanted. He seemed to be pleased and offered to hold your bags but you insisted you were fine.

“Let me have my gentleman moment, please,” he laughed and you finally handed him your bags.

“I thought you’d have quite a bit of those moments on ‘the field’,” you commented as you walked beside him.

“Not really,” he shook his head. “I’m only a gentleman when I’m not on the field.”

You ooh-ed dramatically at that, making him grin. After walking to the third floor and taking a few turns, you finally arrived outside the rooms.

“Men on the left, women on right,” he pointed. “You could probably choose your own room there. We don’t have many women in this field.”

“Well, I’ll take my bag from here,” you smiled. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Jeong Yunho, from the Strategy Department.”

—-------------------

The lab in the Cryptography Department was going to be your workplace and it was everything you had expected- a bit tense, occasional jokes to lighten the mood, some of them scribbling while the others typing endlessly into the computers. You weren’t surprised by the vibe.

However, you were surprised when Jeong Yunho from yesterday introduced himself as a member of the Cryptography Department.

“He’s everywhere, you’ll get used to it,” Dr. Takashi, your team leader, said dismissively.

“When you’re from the Strategy Department… you need to be everywhere,” Yunho explained with a grin.

“Sounds fun,” you made a face and began setting your things on the desk, glancing around. “So what are your contributions to the Cryptography Department, Mr. Jeong?”

“Call me Yunho,” he smiled. “I’ll admit, not much. It’s you guys who will be cracking all the codes. Meanwhile, you, Miss Aurora, will be reporting to Dr. Takashi there with all your findings at the end of the day, and if you’re good enough, who knows? You might be assigned to my team.”

“He’s just pulling your leg,” Kate, who sat nearest to your desk, rolled around in her chair and looked pointedly at Yunho. “He’s the Strategy Department’s ace. Anyone who comes under his wing either ends up losing it or begging to quit, because once you’re assigned to him? Your life gets harder.”

“Ah, is that why you’re purposely slacking off these days, Kate?” Yunho raised a brow in challenge and Kate pursed her lips guiltily.

You remembered every detail about Jeong Yunho from the files you had read on him. Skilled cryptographer though he was playing humble here, very skilled strategist and you supposed the title of ‘ace’ fit him since his contributions stretched across multiple departments, including the Medical Department- your end goal. You knew in your bones that this man was dangerous and you could not afford a single mistake around him, but the fact that he was so… relaxed? Cheerful? Quite a contrast to the otherwise tense environment in the lab.

It put you off guard, and you did not like it.

“Shall I… try then?” You asked, drawing their attention. “I’ve been told I’m not that bad a strategist.”

“Hmm, my team has grown smaller in number in the past few months,” Yunho considered. “I like that ambition. Dr. Cho had a lot to say about you, so if you prove yourself, I might personally put in a request for you to be on my team.”

“I’m suddenly not sure if I want that,” you laughed nervously and Kate snickered.

“Yunho, you’re scaring the new kid! Get out of here, it’s only her first day, don’t overwhelm her,” Kate practically pushed Yunho out of the cubicle, his laugh ringing in the lab and the others present smiling faintly as he passed by. You frowned a bit- it was only a few hours into your first day but it was already full of surprises.

The rest of the day passed by with you studying the codes that came in for the day- thankfully, Halaland hadn’t cracked Utopia’s code of communication yet. You, of course, knew exactly what it said, being one of the masterminds behind the code creation, however, you knew you were going to be treading on dangerous waters here. You remembered what the Captain had told you-

“It’s harder to pretend that you don’t know anything than to pretend you know something. So when you see our code, how will you blend in? If you don’t provide a meaningful contribution, they’re going to transfer you out of the Capital. That means you’re done for. However, if you crack the code entirely, that means you’ve studied similar codes, which means you might be acting as a spy. So what will you do?”

“Lay low for a while and then plant an idea in someone’s head,” you had replied. “When the person gets closer to cracking the code, I’ll step in and steal the spotlight. They might call me shameless for it but in the end, what will matter is that it would be me who eventually cracked the code.”

It was only a matter of ‘when’ now, and you would thankfully be getting that message through this very code soon, by the Captain himself. Before that, you were going to start putting your plan into action and build your background so that you coming to the solution wouldn’t seem out of the blue.

And that meant you had to trick the entire Cryptography Department. That was easy- they lived in their own heads.

But could you trick Jeong Yunho?

Later in your room, you changed into your nightgown and sat at your desk, peeking out of the window to see Dr. Cho conversing with some strangers. You shut your eyes, recalling the lesson you had learnt every day for the past two years-

“You’re my asset, Aurora,” the Captain said and your eyes widened in surprise- the man rarely ever complimented anyone on their skill, let alone call them their ‘asset’. “You’re everything I needed.”

“And what’s that?”

“An innocent face with a deadly brain and a frozen heart,” he patted your arm, looking down at the scar that ran down from your elbow- an ugly gash that was a sign that you were a survivor. “You’d make my perfect little spy. You’re my ace, Aurora.”

You picked at the scar as you told yourself what you were here for.

Revenge. Plain and simple. Revenge for the people you lost, the home they took from you, the families they broke.

All hail Utopia, you whispered to yourself as you met eyes with Dr. Cho through the window.

—----------------------

You let a few uneventful days pass by before you took your first step- which was to steer your colleagues further away from cracking Utopia’s code of communication by pointing them in a similar but totally opposite direction.

It was simple enough- creating notes from the past few attempts of the Cryptography Department, reading books and books of code and puzzles in your spare time which you would spend either in the lab or in the cafeteria, anywhere where you had eyes. You immersed yourself in codebreaking like your teammates but with your progress, you proved everyday that you were better than the others by a good margin.

It was to the point that even your colleagues like Kate, who had initially cared if you were eating well, stopped caring altogether- you could clearly handle yourself. However, as soon as they stopped, you made sure to slack on eating, to doze off while working or scratch your hair out in frustration when you came upon a dead end. That certainly prompted some of them to ask you to take a break, reminding you that a burdened mind would be no good here.

Yunho visited twice- once with confidential information that only Dr. Takashi had the privilege to hear, and the second time to ‘glance’ around, as he put it.

He fired two people that day.

You were standing by a window and recalling the events of that day when Yunho spotted you and joined.

“What are you looking at?”

“The sky’s clear,” you replied casually.

The sky is clear. No aircrafts. No smoke. No cries of the mourners filling the seemingly permanent darkness of the sky.

“I hope you weren’t too surprised by the events of that day,” he glanced at you and you wondered if he had read your mind. “You should have guessed by now that whenever I visit, I’m actually evaluating.”

“I’m… not exactly surprised, I expected that,” you laughed nervously, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve heard enough about you and your fellows from the Strategy Department. I’m just… wondering why Strategy holds the authority to do that. I thought the Head of Cryptography did that?”

“You’re right,” Yunho nodded. “But your Head of Department is far too busy for such meagre tasks. He lets us handle it. Why do you think we hold that authority?”

You looked at him this time. “Because every second is valuable, and you cannot afford to entertain people who’re not contributing?”

“Something along those lines, but to be exact, we cannot afford the people who waste our resources. We’re few in numbers but we need maximum output. And for that, we need people who do not slack, or who at least try. So my next question is, how much are you trying, Aurora?”

Your heart sank despite all the training you had done before arriving here. “I cannot be the judge of that.”

“Exactly. You said you’re not a bad strategist. I see potential in you, but so far I haven’t seen output, Aurora. So if you at least want to stay in the Cryptography Department, I’ll need to see something significant soon.”

Asshole, you thought. You cleared your throat. “I do have this notion that I'm entertaining. I won’t spill until I’m at least 51 percent sure, but I think it could turn the tide.”

“Is that so?” Yunho raised a curious brow.

“I’m just trying my best… Sir.”

Yunho laughed heartily at your sudden use of title and you almost glared daggers at him though his hearty laugh forced your lips to curve a bit. “I’m not pulling rank on you- that was not my intention. But… you keep working on that, okay? I’d like to hear what you’re thinking, even if you’re 49 percent sure.”

With that, he walked off and you watched his tall figure until he paused and turned, catching you staring at him.

“And Aurora?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Yunho for you,” he smiled, disappearing into the shadows. You found yourself stifling a smile at the man who could be both ice cold and warm as the sun.

Who could either unintentionally push you to success in this mission or destroy you if he learned of your true identity.

—---------------------

It was your first day off since you arrived at the facility, but you weren’t going to waste it roaming around. You had a number of tasks for today and you couldn’t risk getting caught.

You woke up at the crack of dawn and went out for your usual jog but to meet Seonghwa this time and exchange information. A few days ago you hid a letter behind one of the tires of his truck and you were going to get your answer today. You spotted Seonghwa and said hi.

“I hope you’ve adjusted well,” he asked, not daring to glance around. The people here may not have their eyes everywhere but they sure had ears.

“I’m managing,” you said with a short laugh. “Did you just get back?”

“No, I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said and you nodded slowly. “I think I’ll be on the road for a while this time.”

“I see… have a safe journey, and may the fates be with you,” you said- the farewell greeting of Mist Island. “And may you not have a problem with the tires. That one looks flat.”

“Yeah, I called someone to help me out with that,” Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck tiredly.

“Well, I’ll be resuming my jog now.”

“Go along, and good luck with whatever the hell you’re doing here,” Seonghwa laughed lightly. “If I get praised to have found you, I’ll assume you’ve succeeded.”

“Of course, I’ll make you proud,” you saluted sarcastically before going back to your jog and analysing the conversation you just had in your head.

You had talked in code- subtle hints on what to do. Seonghwa was going somewhere far but would be travelling through Utopia- the reason he said he’d be on the road for a while. You had pointed out the flat tire where you had sneaked in a note for him a few days earlier. He had answered your question- you were doing good and now you needed to play the cards right- you needed to proceed with the plan.

So later that day, you went to Dr. Takashi and asked him why everyone in the department was analysing Utopia’s code according to maths and logic, rather than language itself.

Dr. Takashi looked at you in confusion. “What exactly are you implying?”

“I’m saying,” you swallowed, pretending to gather your courage- you knew Dr. Takashi rarely bought anyone's bullshit. “Yes, codes are usually connected to maths. It’s some simple formula, some calculation. But what if Utopia’s code is a play on language itself? Utopian language? What if, for instance, this word-” you pointed at what seemed like a random scribble, “-what if this word is a made-up word from different words, or even languages?”

“I understand what you’re implying, but I’m sure someone has already entertained this possibility before you. What makes this time different?”

“If we can crack even one word…” you began. “We could decipher the entire code. We just need to focus on patterns and repetitions and check the similarities with Utopian vocabulary or other languages.”

Dr. Takashi thought for a moment, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. He looked at you for a few moments and then picked up the phone. You raised a brow in confusion, watching him click 2 for the Strategy Department.

“It’s- it’s just a possibility I was wondering we could entertain- are you gonna fire me?”

“Relax,” Dr. Takashi chuckled and then cleared his throat when the line connected. “This is Dr. Takashi from Cryptograph. Could I have someone from Strategy? I think we might have something worth checking out.”

This time your surprise was a bit genuine- you hadn’t expected him to immediately ring the Strategy Department. You prayed Yunho would come- you had met another person from that department and he really wasn’t pleasant to be around.

But when Yunho entered, he had a knowing smile. “I knew it had something to do with the newcomer.”

“You’re quick,” Dr. Takashi commented. “You should hear her out.”

“51 percent sure?” Yunho asked and you nodded, the doctor looking between you two, lost. “Go ahead then. Surprise me.”

You showed your own framework and explained how with an approach that targeted repetitions and patterns in the Utopian language and worked on unjumbling it might work better and resultantly, shorten the workload. You explained that the focus should be on lingual patterns instead of mathematical ones. If you manage to crack some part of the code, you could at least make some sense of the whole message.

“That’s actually not such a bad idea. Why hasn't anyone entertained this possibility yet? It’s not a new approach as far as I know,” Yunho asked.

“A similar approach was suggested by someone a few days earlier, but they weren't sure just how to implement it. Aurora here, however, seems to have built her own code as a set of guidelines. Certainly makes work easier.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘guidelines’...” you faltered but the two weren’t impressed by your lack of confidence.

“You built this code in how many days exactly?” Yunho asked, grabbing the document and checking it out.

“One day. 14 hours, to be exact.”

“And this is new? I haven’t seen something like this before, have you, Dr. Takashi?”

“I don’t think so either,” he peeked at the table. “I think you’re not meant to be here, Aurora.”

“What do you mean?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“I mean you should be creating instead of cracking,” Dr. Takashi was clearly impressed, glancing at Yunho as if to dare him to contradict his statement. Yunho, however, remained quiet until he had finished reading the code.

“I think I’ll have the team split into half- one of them can go with this approach while the other continue with their progress. I’ll have you manage that, Dr. Takashi. As for you, Aurora…” he glanced at you, face void of expressions. “Continue entertaining more possibilities- don’t waste time merging with a team unless you’re sure you’re onto something. And this time, I’ll have your ideas that you’re only about 40 percent sure as well.”

You nodded eagerly and he finally smiled. “Good work there.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and Yunho asked Dr. Takashi if he could have a word. You went back to your seat and watched the two talk in hushed voices, glancing at you. You pretended to get back to work, glad that you were the only one who could hear the thumping of your heart.

You’d done it. You had diverted the attention when they came close to actually cracking Utopia’s code. And you might just have landed a seat in the Strategy Department- you were pretty sure the two were discussing it, though you knew the type of person Jeong Yunho was, he would wait a good while and test you a lot more before ever giving you access to the facility’s perhaps most important department.

—-------------------

You stood outside the Medical Department- the largest building in the entire facility, and you sure felt like an outsider in front of the enormous doors. You showed the guard your permit and identification card and he let you in, handing you a pamphlet with a map and requesting that you follow the directions instead of roaming around.

You ignored that. You came to roam around.

You stood in the hallway, a stretch of white and gold leading to glass doors on either side of you, the one on the left for emergency (ICU) and handling outdoor patients (OPD). Most of the traffic was around there, but-

The Medical Research Department was on your right, a semi-restricted area that you needed to get access to. The one the Captain told you about. Your origin as a spy and your end goal.

The war was going to turn 10 this year. Halaland’s war hadn’t always been with Utopia- in fact, Utopia had once been Halaland’s strongest ally, until some political strife that was unknown even to the most trusted agents of Utopia caused Halaland to ‘unwillingly’ turn their weapons towards Utopia- which happened about 4 years ago.

The Captain had told you that the strife was born due to some disagreement in Medical Research. Utopia and Halaland had worked very closely there, and now it was your job now to see if it was just a coincidence that none of the Utopians made it back alive after being expelled when the two went against each other.

You wondered if the Captain was right. What could be in Medical Research? Drugs? Did they finally discover how to extend their life? Or some unexplainable discovery no one could ever begin to comprehend the notion of?

You waited until someone started going towards the right, following a middle-aged woman through the hallway until she turned towards a lab, leaving you alone in the corridor. You hid the map in your pocket and walked until you reached the sign with the layout of the building- Level 1 being the ground floor which contained labs for testing the official samples, Level 2 being the experimentation labs, and Level 3 being the restricted section. You knew all this from the information the Captain had gathered from ex-employees of this facility.

You also knew you could get access to Level 3- the restricted section- if you become a part of the strategy team. That wasn’t the end, though. Your priority was the basement that they called Level 0. The one that not even the residents of the Medical Department knew of.

The one that, if still in operation, might have something that could lead Utopia to salvation.

You heard someone come and you pretended to be lost, looking at them for help. It was a man about your age. “Looking for someone?”

“I’m wondering if I should give my blood sample here or in the OPD,” you let your voice shake nervously.

“Cryptography Department? You must be here for your monthly exam,” he asked and you nodded. “Well, you’ll have to go to the OPD for that, but if you’re already here, I’ll save you the trip, follow me.”

You thanked him, walking a few steps behind him and he asked if you had received the map or instructions before entering. You told him it was your first month here and the guard was too busy eating snacks to provide help. The man shook his head, telling you this wasn’t the first time someone had strayed here.

After giving your blood sample, you walked back to your department slowly, calculating the outcome of each move you could make from here on. There were a number of paths the Captain had sketched for you, but he had trusted you as long as you reached your goal with minimum damage. But no matter what, you had to win Jeong Yunho’s favour and get yourself in his strategy team if you wanted to get to Level 0.

And maybe it was time you showed Yunho just what you were made of.

You went straight back to your lab and started working on another code-cracking framework you had been building for the last two days. Once you were done, you analysed it with a few samples of Utopia’s code.

If anyone could actually figure it out (which you were sure no one in this lab would) it could break at least half of Utopia’s code language. For days, you had built everything for this exact moment. With your heart skipping beats to the point you had to sit down and shut your eyes for a few seconds, you got up and walked to your colleague Sam.

“Can I have a moment?”

He looked up, pushing his glasses up and his tousled washed-out hair away. “Sure. What’s the matter?”

You took a seat next to him. “You specialise in the structures of codes, right? I was wondering if this framework makes any sense to you- I thought an external opinion would be good because my brain’s a mess right now and I don’t want to dump this away without being sure.”

“Ah, let me see,” Sam started going through the document and you watched him look unimpressed until you pushed at the Utopian code’s samples you had been working on, which was when he detected the pattern and looked at you in surprise.

“Where did you get this?”

“The framework? I built this-”

“No, the samples,” he began, opening his drawer and pausing to check the date on your copy of samples before rushing through his drawers, creating a mess and then asking Kate to get two copies of the samples from all the dates you had already analysed. You pretended to be nervous but you were actually sweating visibly.

“Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah- yeah, everything is okay,” he nodded, his pitch uneven. “I just need to make sure you have the right samples.”

Kate arrived, looking intrigued and you both watched Sam double-checking everything and even calling the linguist in the room. You kept scratching at the skin around your fingernails until Sam finally took off his glasses and looked at you in disbelief.

“I think you’ve done it, Aurora. We’ve never been closer to cracking the entire code.”

You almost cried out in disbelief, looking around to see the rest with genuine smiles on their faces. Sam told you to follow him to Dr. Takashi’s office where the two of you briefed him on your progress and he immediately pulled the codes that had been intercepted today and let you work on it. You decrypted about 25 percent of the code.

“It makes sense,” Dr. Takashi studied it. “Unless we’re all gaslighting ourselves to believe it does. I think we should still get Strategy to see it- if they can get this to the engineers, they might be able to feed this format into their machines, which would make decryption a matter of mere seconds. We could win this war, Aurora, because you sit holed up in a corner with those stupid gummy bears and your codes, do you understand?”

This time, your tears of happiness were real, though not for the reason they thought.

I can win this war.

“I guess it’s a battle of who falls first- Aurora’s teeth or Utopia.”

“That’s a bad joke, Sam,” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “My teeth are perfectly intact. Gummy bears are harmless.”

“Says who?”

You turned to the familiar voice- Yunho, entering and looking just as surprised to see you. “Don’t tell me you called me because someone has cavities.”

You turned to Dr. Takashi- when did he call him? Or did someone else?

“Those gummy bears might have contributed to the decryption. Take a look at this, Yunho, and tell me what you make of it.”

Yunho looked sceptical as he glanced at you before sitting down. You gulped involuntarily as he analysed the document faster than even Dr. Takashi who was supposedly the expert here. He checked the decrypted sample.

“You broke the code?” He glanced at you.

“A bit of it, it seems?”

Yunho stared at you as if he had figured you out, scanning every bit of your face and your body language. When he finally got up, you almost sighed in relief. “I’ll get this to the Department. Aurora, follow me please.”

You gathered up the rest of the documents, arranging them as you followed Yunho who looked even taller in his uniform- perhaps he had just returned from the ‘field’. He turned as if he had felt you staring at him and smiled encouragingly, allowing you to fall in step with him.

“So what’s it about the gummy bears?”

“I may have a severe addiction, Sir.”

Yunho grinned at the way you formally put it. “And that addiction may have contributed to this outcome? If so, I might send a request to the government to send funds for… ‘snacks’.”

“Definitely,” you grinned but it fell when you felt another nervous cramp in your stomach. “Can you please tell me what to expect? I might fall down at this rate, I’m very nervous.”

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Yunho said and your heart lurched at the way he so casually said that. “Well, Strategy is nothing like the Cryptography Department. I’m not saying your bunch is relaxed but everyone is always tense in our department. You’ll see what I mean- just try not to speak unless you’re spoken to, and try to… stick with me.”

You made an impressed face. “Thank you.”

“Thank me later,” Yunho said and you exited the building, the evening sun casting a golden glance and making Yunho’s skin glow beautifully.

“Try not to stare at anyone if you can help it,” Yunho caught you looking and you felt like you could disappear- so much for training to be subtle. Yunho always caught you looking at him and that did nothing but worsen your unnecessary want to keep looking at him.

“I don’t stare at just anyone! What do you take me for,” you almost mumbled. “You stare more than me.”

“That’s because I’m figuring you out.”

“Who says I’m not looking at you for that reason too?” You countered.

Yunho paused, stifling his smile. “Figuring people out is a part of my job, Aurora.”

Sure is.

“Figuring people out is a part of my personality,” you simply said.

“And would you say you have me figured out? With the amount of times I’ve caught you looking at me, I bet you have…”

“Are you…” you laughed. “Trying to flirt or something? And no I haven’t figured you out, you’re a hard nut to crack.”

The sound of Yunho’s laugh warmed your heart. “That wasn’t my intention, I’m just pointing it out!”

“Sure. Your ears are very red, by the way. You might want to do something about it before we enter your department.”

Yunho shook his head in amusement. “You… you’re really something, Aurora. Before we get in there, I’m offering you something- would you like to be a part of my team?”

You raised a brow. “Just like that?”

“I think I have figured you out enough to be able to make that decision,” he got serious. “Honestly, I almost did this a few days ago when you presented that framework. I found that it made things much easier. I think with your current findings… we’ll definitely have something.”

You considered for a moment, trying to figure out what the glint in his eyes meant. Was he actually impressed? Even if he was, which you supposed everyone was at this point, he definitely had some plans for you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to join his team or someone else’s in Strategy, but goodness, was he a breath of fresh air in this land that suffocated you to the core.

“Can I tell you my answer after we’re done for the day?” You asked and he nodded earnestly, motioning for you to follow him.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the department was the noise. There were people freaking out, to put it simply. Messages exchanged across the room, people rushing around with documents in their hands, superiors barking orders- a stark contrast to the comfortable silence of Cryptography. To reel you in from that mess, Yunho put a hand on your back to guide you across the hallway, leading you to the office upstairs.

“We’re meeting the supervisor. She’ll know what to do with you, and she might offer you something better as well. I know I would too, if I was her.”

“Well, that’s certainly relaxing,” you shivered and he grinned. “Let’s get it over with.”

With a knock, Yunho entered and bowed with you following suit. “This is Aurora from the Strategy Department.”

“Ah, the one you can’t shut up about?” The supervisor said- a very elegant middle-aged woman. You turned to Yunho who was yet again blushing from his ears. “I’m Dr. Angela Choi. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” you said and took a seat.

“What do we have now?” Dr. Choi asked.

Yunho handed you whatever files he had and urged you to go ahead and explain. You straightened and knowing now was the time you needed to impress the Strategy Department, you fell into explaining the background of your approach first, briefing her about whatever progress you had made up until now.

“That’s certainly one way to look at it- more plausible than what we had so far,” Dr. Choi studied your framework. “I like this. Even if it doesn’t work, the approach you’re taking is fresh. Perhaps because you’re young?” She laughed.

“Come on, you’re not too old yourself,” Yunho laughed along and you could sense they were comfortable with each other. “Aurora, she’s… quick. Intelligent.”

“Yes, I think someone like her shouldn’t be hiding in Cryptography,” Dr. Choi seated back, looking relaxed. “Perhaps she should join our department. Maybe with the computer scientists? They’ve been trying endlessly to make their decryption devices more efficient. They just don’t have the right data to feed in. I’ll hand them this data- it could change the course of this war. You understand that, Aurora?”

“I do, but,” you looked around. “I expected this conversation to be more… tense.”

“I understand. I must seem very laid back, huh?” Dr. Choi smiled. “I haven’t sat in my office in ten days. I was occupied at the field, at the heart of all operations. Strategists have to be able to work well under pressure.”

“Not just the strategists…” you sighed. “It’s just very different here than in Mist Island.”

“Ah, yes, Mist Island. They were losing the war, weren’t they, until they joined us?” She asked and you nodded. “Those who have more to lose, they break under the idea itself. We have a lot to lose too, yes, but we’ve been winning this war for years now. It’s only a matter of time until it ends.”

You were genuinely impressed by her confidence, even though it disgusted you to the core how little they cared about the losing side. Dr. Choi continued. “We’ve created a somewhat relaxed and peaceful environment so our cryptographers, engineers, doctors and nurses don’t feel burdened. We give them deadlines, yes, but we, the strategists, take all of their burden. We don’t want anyone else to break under pressure or we’ll lose. So, how well can you handle pressure, Aurora?”

You looked at Yunho whose smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You wondered why. “I can handle it well, Doctor.”

“Very well. Consider my offer but if you want to stick to your current department, that’s alright too. Mr. Jeong, if you can escort her back?”

“Yes,” he got up and bowed and you followed him outside, navigating out of the hustle until you exited the department and Yunho exhaled like he could finally breathe.

“Care for a drink?”

“You must really want me to join your team,” you smiled and he shook his head in amusement.

“I’m just really thirsty, but I’m also wondering what’s on your mind.”

You accepted and he took you to the cafeteria, taking the window seats. You looked at him. “Halaland must have an ace up their sleeve. I’ve seen what the losing side looks like and this is far from it.”

“Perhaps,” Yunho’s tone was cryptic. “Isn’t it good to be on the winning side?”

“That’s debatable too, but that’s also the reason I’m here,” you told him. No lies there. “What does your team offer?”

“Field work. Assessing the situation and taking steps accordingly. Guiding the cryptographers and the other departments. We make the decisions that could save lives, but our decisions are not always in our favour. And most importantly, in war there’s sacrifice. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

You nodded, eager. You were so close to your destination now. “I like that, but tell me… do you always scout people like this?”

That took Yunho by surprise and he laughed and you couldn’t help but join. “You’re the first. I’ve never had to practically beg someone to join my team. Usually the higher-ups make that decision for me and I only decide if I want to keep them.”

“You might change your mind later,” you shrugged.

“I won’t know until I work with you though,” he sipped his coffee, scanning you. “So? Do you like Dr. Choi’s offer more?”

“I’ll join your team,” you said and watched how he relaxed a bit. “I don’t want to be holed up with the machines. That’s not my forte.”

“Do you mind me asking… who trained you before you came here?”

Your heart skipped a beat as the face of the Captain flashed behind your eyes. But you had another name to give- another mentor who was just like you, a spy who made his place here. “Dr. Kang who, I believe, is in the Medical Research Department here?”

Yunho raised a brow at that, surprised. “Dr. Kang trained you? He must have trained you for the Strategy Department then. Why begin with Cryptography?”

“He wasn’t sure I could handle it,” you placed your cup on the table. “And he might be right. We’ve all lost something in this war, haven’t we?”

Yunho unconsciously glanced at what was visible of the scar on your arm and you caught that, tugging your sleeve down which took him out of his trance. So he had noticed. He cleared his throat, meeting eyes with you.

“We all have,” his voice was thick with emotion and you could tell he had lost something- or someone important too. “Well, let’s hope you can show Dr. Kang that you can handle more than he thinks.”

“Do you know Dr. Kang personally?” You asked, actually curious. There was no way-

“Kang Yeosang, right?” Yunho was smiling. “He’s an old friend. He got me here.”

Your heart sank. Yunho was Kang Yeosang’s old friend? Was he also a spy then? But… there was no way you could confirm that. And if he was not a spy for Utopia…

That meant he was more dangerous than you had thought.

“Wow… what a coincidence,” you exhaled. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I met Dr. Kang. I hope I can see him soon.”

“He’s quite busy these days. Very hard to run into him now,” Yunho finished his coffee. “But tell you what- next time I have business in Medical Research, you may tag along.”

“Sure.”

“Is there a reason you aren’t mentioning that you have medical experience as well?” Yunho asked and you sighed internally- he really was testing you at every point. You wondered why. “I mean… I looked at your resume before making the decision to offer you a spot in my team. But you haven’t told me anything about your previous experiences at all.”

“Does it matter?” You asked. “Everyone in Mist Island was trained to gain some medical experience. I don’t like to go into the details, but the one who found me insisted it be mentioned.”

“Is there a reason behind that? You don’t have to tell me exactly what, I just want to know if you’re okay with medical field work if we’re required to do so in the future.”

“Yes, there is a reason why I don’t like mentioning it,” you told him. “Dr. Kang knows my history. If you trust him… you can trust me, can’t you?”

The way Yunho did not immediately agree told you he must know something- either about you or his old friend. You cleared your throat. “I’m okay with medical field work. I’m not the best but I can certainly assess the situation and act quickly.”

“That’s good enough,” Yunho grabbed his things from the table and you started getting up as well. “I won’t pressure you to do anything you do not want to, so when I offer you an assignment, you don’t have to worry about me firing you if you do not accept it because you’re uncomfortable. I only fire people who are-”

“A burden, a waste of resources, yes, I know the drill,” you finished for him and he grinned, walking with you outside.

“Well then. Pack your stuff, and I’ll see you tomorrow in Room no. 8 of the Strategy Department. Sleep well, Aurora.”

He was about to go but you grabbed his arm lightly and he paused, turning in surprise. “I haven’t thanked you for your kind offer.”

“Thank me later,” he winked and ran off, making you wonder just how you were supposed to thank him ‘later’.

—----------------------

Yunho was nothing like the person you had come to know in the past month when he was working. If you thought you knew him, you were so wrong.

You weren’t sure what surprised you more- the switch of character or the fact that you misjudged him. Perhaps because it was your first time interacting with someone outside of work first. Perhaps you should have expected it-

No. He was different.

He was a natural leader, you were finding. He was respected and possibly even feared by the fresh recruits- your fellows from Cryptography weren’t wrong about him. He took charge of the room, barked orders, maintained punctuality down to the seconds and wanted results. Quick. And anyone who couldn’t deliver was given an earful in private.

He told you he would cut you some slack only on your first day, like he did with everyone. You were no longer ‘Yunho’ and ‘Aurora’. He was ‘Sir’ and you were ‘Miss Han’ which put a strict distance between you. He did not joke around while working at all. You learned that he was right when he said he had to be on his toes, had to make important decisions and choose what to keep and what to sacrifice.

It had been over a week now- you had shifted your dorms, the current room giving you the view of your former workplace but blocking the sun, which you didn’t mind. It was a bit more luxurious too and gave you better room for optimisation, but you had nothing much here anyway.

The emptier the better.

Yunho was the leader of your team- Team no. 8. He reported to Dr. Choi who reported to the Head of the Department. The decision-making usually fell to the higher-ups and the team leaders, and the working dynamics were good. You wondered if that was the reason Halaland was winning.

You wondered how Utopia was handling things- you missed home. You missed the smell of citrus in the air, back before the smell of smoke and blood became a norm. You missed the constantly cloudy but blue sky before it took on an eternal darkness- you were beginning to hate the sun here.

You missed your family who were no longer here, gone together in the dead of night, leaving you forlorn in this world. You missed the new family you had found among the Crescents- even though they insisted attachment would do you no good, the Captain himself had been like a big brother to you. Perhaps because all of you had bonded over mutual loss that you found yourselves unable to not depend on each other, not find comfort in each other. They were home, no matter where you went after that.

You didn’t realise how long you had been standing at the end of the corridor where the dorms were, at the only window in the building that faced west towards Utopia, scratching at the scar on your arm until you felt gentle fingers lace through your hand and place them softly on the window sill.

Again, you were surprised for many reasons as you looked up at the man who was always there when you least expected him, whose footsteps were so silent yet presence so filling, whose gaze was so warm even when he put distance between you. He stood next to you, his hands right next to yours as he looked outside.

“I’m curious what part of this view exactly is so captivating that you’ve been standing motionless for so long,” he commented, peeking out with an unimpressed face. “All I see is barren land and a boring sky.”

“That’s exactly what I needed,” you said, glad your voice didn’t crack, glancing at what you had done- you never let the scar heal. You were always picking at the long gash somewhere. A reminder, you told yourself, though you didn’t need to hurt yourself to be reminded. It already hurt enough. “I didn’t want to be distracted by a pretty view.”

“Makes sense,” he turned towards you, glancing at the bleeding scar again. “Does that hurt?”

You didn’t expect him to inquire directly about the topic you both had danced around since you met. “Not really.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he tsk-ed. “Do you have a first-aid kit in your room?”

“No?”

“You should have,” he looked disappointed. “I’ll ask someone to give you one. If you’re going to the field, you should definitely have a kit with you at all times.”

“But I’m not… or am I?” You narrowed your eyes and he stifled a smile.

“I thought I’d ask you how your first week had been before offering you to join me,” he put his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. “Was it too much?”

“Not at all,” you glanced down again- it was starting to sting a little especially with the blood wanting to trail down-

“This won’t do,” Yunho sighed. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Just… stop questioning me for once and come with me,” he said and you thought you heard the tiniest bit of frustration in his voice so you followed him to the other end of the hall and realised he might be taking you to the men’s dorm. He unlocked the door to his room and you immediately felt like you were being hugged by him- the clean, almost aquatic scent of whatever product he used filled the room.

It was nice.

Yunho motioned to the couch and you glanced around before taking a seat- it looked as empty as your room, the only sign of living some clothes hanging around or food in the kitchen from where Yunho got his kit and came to sit beside you.

“I can do this-”

“Let me,” he insisted, looking at you for permission and when you nodded, he took your arm and examined it, drawing your sleeve up hesitantly until it was above the elbow. He dipped some cotton in alcohol and cleaned it, the sting drawing your focus and when you winced, Yunho shook his head.

“You should stop picking at your scar if you want to work in the field,” he began, his voice low and thick now that he was so close. “It would be a shame if it got infected. I want my members in top condition, you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answered and he grinned.

“I told you, it’s just Yunho for you- when we’re not working,” he insisted and you nodded. “You can ask me now. I can see you have questions.”

“What exactly will we be doing?”

“I cannot tell you until we’re on the mission,” he finished cleaning. “But we might have to travel a bit and transfer confidential data.”

“I guess I’ll join? I have nothing better to do.”

“Ay, are you saying your time at the department is a waste?”

“I mean- yeah, I could keep working but this would be better-”

Yunho laughed, wrapping a bandage around your arm and you pouted when you realised he was back to being the goofy senior you had come to know in your duration here. “I know what you mean, you don’t have to explain yourself. You’ll learn a lot from the field but you should know that everything we see, everything we observe is strictly confidential. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do, and that’s why I am working here,” you told him and he liked your answer.

“There,” he tied the bandage. “I don’t want to see you picking at your scar again. If you feel like doing that again… come find me and I’ll distract you, okay?”

“Come find me,” you quoted back with a scoff, surprising him. “When you’re the busiest person I know? I thought you were friendly with me just to get me on your team, and then suddenly there’s this distance between us and you’re ‘Sir’ and I’m ‘Miss Han’ and you keep ordering me around and pushing me-”

You stopped when you saw how he was smiling, head resting on his hand, elbow propped on his leg. “What?”

“Carry on,” he urged. “I’m enjoying this.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, your heart suddenly aching at the sight of him- you were getting really annoyed at the way he made you ramble and had you expecting more when in fact, you should be anywhere but here-

“Just say that you missed me, Aurora.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “Thank you for the help. I’m going,” you said and got up but he grabbed your wrist, making you sit right back and you gaped at him as he failed to hold his smile, the smile that changed his entire face and made his eyes curve-

“Well, I definitely missed this,” he said but his eyes changed as he locked them with yours. “You can find me anytime you want. If it’s too much, if anything’s bothering you, you can find me, okay? I won’t let you down.”

You raised a brow. “Do you offer this to everyone?”

“Maybe? Some of it?” He wondered out loud, indicating he might not have offered this to anyone at all, for that matter. “My point is… I know we all have scars, Aurora. Not all are physical. The physical scars? They hurt more here, don’t they?” He pointed at his heart. “You’re… a part of my team now. I want your wits gathered. I want you relaxed because you’ve seen how tense the rest of my team is. I think I can depend on you if you can depend on me- and when we go on this mission, I’d be glad if I’m right about this.”

“Just say that you missed me too,” you laughed and he joined, realising he was still holding your wrist, letting it go gently. “Okay. I’ll try to find you next time.”

“Good,” he nodded, satisfied. “...good.”

You realised he was spacing out as his eyes travelled all across your face. You stared right back- at his kind eyes, at his incredibly charming face, at the way his hair fell on his forehead and when his eyes met yours, he held your stare for a moment too long before clearing his throat.

“Well, I’ll brief you tomorrow about the mission so you still have time if you want to change your mind. Think it over tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you finally got up, straightening your clothes. “Thank you… for everything.”

Yunho smiled at that and you left for your room, staring at the bandage until you fell asleep.

—---------------------

It was two days later that you found yourself on the road with Yunho, travelling in a military car escorted by soldiers. You two were the only ones facing each other in the backseats but Yunho was currently busy going through some documents and you recalled the conversation you just had with him in the office.

Your colleague Hani, who had field experience, had briefed you about the clauses in your contract- what to do in case you found yourself in a compromising situation or if your life was being threatened in exchange for information. You had a strict non-disclosure agreement already signed, but this was a fresh reminder that anything could go wrong.

And that your life had little to no value so you shouldn’t bother saving yourself by exchanging information. It was like this everywhere, but since it was the enemy you were now working for, you hated the idea of even getting a scratch for them, though the Captain had told you that you would be put in such a situation eventually. Today, you were going to play your part in a rehearsed skit. And today was all about your acting skills.

You touched the locket around your neck that Yunho had given you before leaving. He caught you tugging at it and you put it inside your uniform- all black with red details like Yunho’s. He cleared his throat. “Nervous?”

“A bit, but I’m fine,” you admitted. He was probably inquiring because the locket was your death sentence- a cyanide pill you could use only if all else failed. You recalled the moment when he had secured it around your neck himself and then put his hands on your shoulders, making you lock eyes with him.

“I’ll pray you never have to resort to a situation where you have to use this,” Yunho’s voice was firm. “If you’re in pain, you live through it. Think about your family, your friends, or whoever you’re fighting for. You make it back alive no matter how hard it is, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But,” and this time, his voice was steel and gaze so harsh that you wondered if this was the same person who told you he could ask the government to provide funds for your gummy bear addiction. “If you think of betraying your team and someone loses their life because of you? I’d rather you have eaten the pill.”

Your heart sank dangerously and you recalled when the Captain had held you just like this and told you what fate you would meet if you ever betrayed them. You nodded firmly, once. “Of course.”

Immediately, his gaze softened and he patted your arm as he let go. “I know how hard it is to make a decision, especially when they have something on you. But the enemy, no matter how appealing their offer is, you do not give in, okay? If the pain really is too much to handle… I wish you’d live through it instead of opting for this solution.”

“I understand,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “I really do.”

Now, in the car with Yunho who scanned your face as if trying to figure out just what was going through your head, you decided to ask him. “What if we lose each other in the middle of the mission?”

“Glad you asked,” he sighed. “I’ll show you the points where we can gather as soon as we’re entering the town.

And when you did, he sat next to you, pointing at 5 random points that were chosen for today’s mission. He told you their strategy was to always have new points to gather at during every mission so nobody could snitch on them. When you finally reached Sector 1, Yunho made sure your bulletproof vest was secured under your uniform and you had no bugs on you- ‘protocol’, he called it, though you made sure he saw you scowl. You stopped at an old hospital that was now abandoned and got off, the harsh sun making you flinch and immediately wear your shades.

“This hospital used to be the heart of this town, before a bomb struck here,” Yunho told you and you nodded- you recalled that. It was a few years ago when Neverland managed to strike here and you always wondered how someone could be heartless enough to target a hospital.

It made sense later- Neverland, now Utopia’s ally but earlier the enemy, probably also got a whiff of whatever the hell was going on with Halaland’s Medical Research Departments. Innocent lives were lost but you hoped at least something had come out of it.

“I always wondered why anyone would target hospitals,” Yunho said out loud as if he had read your mind.

You cleared your throat. “Halaland targeted hospitals first. I hope you haven’t forgotten your history… Sir.”

Yunho glanced at you, eyes unreadable behind the shades. “Of course I remember. That’s why I said ‘anyone’. What do you think? Why would someone target the hospitals?”

A test, perhaps. You pretended to think. “Doctors… They’re the backbone of any war, and perhaps the most precious asset especially in war.”

Yunho nodded, satisfied. “It’s a low move. I don’t support that, but like I said, sometimes when you strategise, sacrifices must be made.”

“And what came out of sacrificing doctors?”

“That’s not for just anyone to know,” Yunho pointed to the backdoor and you followed him.

“So am I ‘just anyone’?”

“As am I,” he sighed. “I’ve only heard something did come out of it, and something valuable was lost when this hospital was targeted. Pretty sure they weren’t talking about the doctors or the patients.”

You wondered if he really did not know or was pretending. You spotted a shadow behind the door and Yunho confirmed it was the man you were supposed to meet. He led you inside and the man met both your eyes before handing Yunho an envelope- the contents inside you referred to as ‘the key’. He turned to you and you handed him your key. With a nod, you parted ways and exited the hospital.

“That’s about it,” Yunho exhaled in relief. “A simple exchange of information. No words spoken. The information is not for our eyes nor can we interpret it. We’re only couriers.”

“So was that man a spy then?” You asked. “Do you receive information from other lands?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Yunho admitted and you believed him. “But I reckon he must be. You wouldn’t make such a fuss for a local.”

You started driving back, pretending to be relieved that the mission was over when in fact, you were counting the minutes.

And then it happened- you heard the sound of a gunshot and you flinched even when you saw it coming. The soldier escorting you spoke in the radio to make sure everything was clear, but-

“We have a tail, Sir- 2 SUVs. We’re waiting for your orders.”

You looked at Yunho who dared to peek outside before calling in his radio, “Turn west. We’re taking Route no. 3. Provide cover-”

Another gunshot and this time you had to cover your ears and crouch down out of instinct as the windshield shattered. Yunho’s eyes were wide with horror as he took in the sight of the shot driver, the soldier frantically trying to steer the car while putting one hand on the wound on the driver’s chest. You straightened and looked at Yunho.

“I can either drive or provide medical attention- or fight back. What do you want me to do, Sir?”

“How good is your aim?”

You let the faintest hint of a smirk grow on your lips. “Good enough, Sir.”

With that, you dragged the driver’s body to the backseat with the soldier’s help who immediately put pressure on the wound and checked the pulse. Yunho crawled to the driving seat and you borrowed the soldier’s rifle and examined the situation- one of your escort cars was down and you only had one at your front and on your right now.

So you waited until you sighted the tail- a black SUV. You aimed for the tires and shot once, twice, hitting the mark on your second shot which gave the escort car behind you a chance to shoot at the passengers. You broke the rest of the windshield with the butt of your rifle to clear your view, surprising Yunho, and sat on the frame to take another shot, managing to break their windshield this time. They fell back and the escort cars provided cover. The soldier honked and the three of your cars picked speed, the one behind you shooting aggressively. It seemed to have worked and you lost your tail, managing to follow the designated route.

You slid back to your seat, turning to check if you could assist in any way but it was too late- the soldier looked grim as he met eyes with you.

“He was gone within a minute.”

You bit your lips, wondering if you could have saved him had you not been selfish and hesitant about practising medical attention on people anymore. You glanced at Yunho who was clenching his jaw. With a sigh, you rested on the seat as you calmed yourself down from the adrenaline and braced yourself for whatever was about to happen next.

The drive was pretty much silent until you reached the Research Centre, a medical team ready to take the people who lost their lives in the mission. You learned that two other soldiers had died. After paying your respects, you escorted Yunho to your department where the supervisor, Dr. Choi was waiting.

“I heard it went well,” she said and you raised a brow, glancing at Yunho who appeared tense.

“We lost three soldiers today.”

“But you have the key?” She asked, referring to what you had received from the supposed-spy.

Yunho didn’t say anything, just handed the key to the doctor and she didn’t open it. She looked at you. “Report.”

You swallowed. “We had no tail until after we left the hospital. About 800 metres on Route no.1, we received the tip from Escort Car no. 3 about the tail. As soon as Mr. Jeong ordered us to embark on Route no. 3, our driver was shot and we had to improvise. The soldier with us went on to provide medical attention to him while Mr. Jeong drove and I attacked. I managed to puncture their tire and shoot through their windshield which Escort Car no. 2 informed us, helped eliminate one of the 5 passengers in the black SUV without a plate. That’s when we lost them and continued our return.”

“I see. Anything you’d like to add to that, Mr. Jeong?”

“I’ll let you make the conclusion,” Yunho answered, looking like he could kill her. “I don’t know if it’s my position to say this but maybe you should take a look at who’s friend and who’s foe again. No one other than me knew our meeting point. Me and the person we were meeting.”

Dr. Choi shifted in her seat, looking amused. “You’re telling me that I should look into that person and you?”

Yunho shrugged. “I think you know exactly what I meant.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek as you looked back and forth between them. They were practically having a stare down and Dr. Choi finally nodded slowly. Yunho said he would take his leave now, leaving you alone with the supervisor who simply smiled.

“He gets like this when a mission doesn’t go smoothly.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly. So it had happened before. “Anything I should do, Dr. Choi?”

“Let’s see,” Dr. Choi opened the envelope and skimmed through the contents. “Not for now, no. You can take the rest of the day off. You did well.”

—-----------------------

Though your mission today had gone exactly the way you had wanted to- a successful exchange of information followed by an attack, staged by the Crescents just so you could prove you were indeed someone who could be trusted- a test, you realised now, from the Crescents as well- you still felt unsatisfied for a number of reasons.

Firstly, you had not expected the driver of your own car to get shot. You could very well have been hurt as well. You still felt guilty about not caring enough to provide medical assistance- the soldier, you were sure, only knew the basics. You could have saved him. You felt partially responsible for that loss.

You were also worried about just who in Crescents lost their lives in the mission today. You prayed it was no one you knew, but the thought that they were risking their lives like this upset you even when you had seen them go to more dangerous missions and not return. Now that you were a part of this, it stung more.

And then there was Yunho. His reaction to the dead soldier didn’t surprise you- you knew now that he was a compassionate soul no matter how stern and cold he might seem at times. But it was his behaviour with Dr. Choi that surprised you more- was it her nonchalance towards the lives lost that put him off or was it something else?

You had roamed around after getting the day off when it was already almost time for dinner. You met your teammates from Cryptography and checked their progress and they had a good laugh over how far you had come and if you’d last any longer. However, when you headed to your room, you spotted Yunho standing by the window you had met a few days earlier. Your heart tugged at the sight and you considered ignoring him and heading to your room but you wanted to know what was going through his mind right now.

You wanted to figure him out so bad that it was driving you a little crazy, and that was not good. Not in this field.

Cautiously, you walked to him and though he sensed you coming, he didn’t move until you stood next to him, hands on the sill right beside his, so near they could touch. You looked at the view.

“Not a very captivating view, is it?”

A trace of a smile danced on his lips though he maintained his composure. You stifled a sigh and dared to look at him- he looked so very tired and you wondered if he was exhausted due to the events of today or just tired of wearing his mask. Whatever it was, this was the first time you saw such emotions in his eyes.

“I know you offered to me that I could come find you whenever I felt like picking at my scar again,” you began, ignoring your subconscious that sounded a lot like the Captain cursing at you. “I thought I’d offer you the same. I should have offered it that day, but…”

“Thank you, Miss Han, but-”

“That’s Aurora for you-”

“-I’m not picking at my scars-”

“Scars of the heart,” you reminded him before he could tell you to bug off. He looked at you, hair a mess and over his eyes, still in his uniform with quite a few buttons undone and wondering just what your deal was. You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Have you had dinner yet?”

When he didn’t respond, you tsk-ed. “Do you want to have some ramen? I’ve heard I make killer ramen.”

Yunho finally gave in and scoffed, urging you to lead the way, following you to your room and you almost shut the door behind you when you realised he was still waiting outside.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I thought you were going to take the ramen or whatever to the dining hall?”

“Just… come in. I have better snacks,” you told him.

He shook his head. “Of course you do.”

You asked him to make himself comfortable while you went into the kitchen and started cooking. Yunho took that as a sign to roam around in your space- empty walls just like his, the only sign of life the clothes on one chair-

And the unholy amount of the unhealthiest snacks he had ever seen lining the kitchen shelves. He sat on the two-seater table next to the kitchen, watching you cook. “Do you even eat normal food?”

You glared at him, not bothering to respond, focusing on the ramen while he rested his chin on his hand as he watched you until you settled down, scooping some ramen for him and cracking open two beers. You clicked your drinks and ate in silence. He was probably still sorting his thoughts, you reckoned.

It wasn’t until he was finished, drinking his second can of beer that he finally exhaled deeply. You didn’t push, just relaxed back as you swirled your can lazily.

“Thank you for the meal, Aurora. It’s very kind of you.”

“You sound way too formal, Yunho,” you sighed.

“And you sound like me, I’m realising,” he put his head in his hands as he laughed a little. “I must have sounded like this that day, huh?”

“Now you know,” you teased.

He sighed again. “I don’t know what went wrong today. It’s happened before and I’m not even surprised,” he admitted and you nodded. “I’m just… I should have known that no one would give two shits about the lives lost today. All they care about is getting their hands on whatever information can cause the most destruction.”

“‘In war there is sacrifice’,” you quoted him and he lifted his head to look at you.

“I know. But I’m human too.”

“I understand,” you said and he wasn’t surprised at your grim tone.

There were a few moments of silence as you both sorted your thoughts out. “It’s not your fault, about the driver. You couldn’t have saved him even if you wanted to- not with that wound.”

You looked at him- how could he know just what you were feeling when he himself was a mess?

“Neither was it your fault about the events of today,” you countered. “We’re simply couriers. It’s the higher-ups who gave us the orders, knowing the risks. They should feel responsible about the loss.”

“They never do,” Yunho clenched his eyes shut as if a memory pained him. You let him have a moment and he opened his eyes, locking them with yours.

“Listen, Aurora. What happened today should not have happened, but this was your first mission. I’m proud of how you handled it.”

Your heart sank in guilt but you nodded. “Thank you.”

“I do want to keep you as my teammate, but… it’s only getting uglier as the days pass. The higher-ups have stopped caring about the lives lost as long as they get what they want. If you do not want to do this at any point, you let me know, okay? I don’t want to take you to a mission and risk losing you because you didn’t have a clear head.”

“Why can’t you do the same?” You dared to ask and he looked confused. “You could stop going to these missions too. Clearly this has happened before, and you look distraught. You could hang back too, Yunho-”

“I can’t-”

“I’m sure there are other teams that could go-”

“I really can’t,” Yunho locked eyes with you and you paused.

He can’t?

“Why?” You asked and when he remained silent, you knew then.

You knew that he was bound. Just like you, or maybe worse. You were bound to the Crescents and even though they had good intentions, they had promised you hell if you backed off anytime during your stay here. But what was holding Yunho back?

“Then don’t bury it in,” you countered. “I don’t want to go on another mission with you if you don't have a clear head.”

“Look at you ordering me around, Aurora.”

You matched his glare and he ended up looking down, his smile widening. You shared a chuckle as well. “I’m just looking out for myself, Sir.”

“There you go,” he scoffed in amusement. You stared at him for a few moments before you got up and started clearing the table, coming back to pick the cans but Yunho caught your wrist, folding your sleeve up to examine your scar that was still healing from all the scratching you had done before Yunho had bandaged it for you two days ago.

“This better be healed by the end of the week,” he muttered, tracing the skin near the scar from the elbow all the way down.

“This will heal on its own,” you said. “But how do we heal the scars of our heart, Yunho?”

“I wouldn’t know that,” he barely whispered and it was the most broken you had heard him, or anyone, sound. Your heart ached deeply and with your free, now trembling hand, you touched the side of his face lightly as if to tell him that you didn’t either. That you understood it all too well. He kept staring up at you, his grip on your wrist loosening and you brought that hand up as well as you held his face, taking your time as you caressed the strands of his hair away from his face. You were positive your loud heart could be heard for miles but you didn’t care, not at that moment.

When you were done shifting some of his hair away from his forehead, you leaned down and kissed his forehead, the first time you had kissed someone in years, the first kiss of affection after the tragic event that took your family’s life. Yunho sighed deeply and when you drew back, you rested your forehead on the top of his head for a moment.

“I know something is eating you up and making you do things you do not want to, but,” you drew back, locking eyes with him. “I want you to know that I’m with you, beside you, wherever you go from here. You’re not alone, Yunho. Don’t lose yourself. You can get through this and I’m here for you whenever you need me, understand?”

There was wonder in his eyes. Wonder and an incredible sadness. He nodded slowly and you smiled slightly, patting his cheek before turning away and picking the cans up, going to throw them in the trash can. Yunho got up, straightening his clothes.

“I- I should get back now.”

You raised a brow at the stutter and noticed his flushed cheeks and ears. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Yunho nodded, unmoving for a good few moments before he awkwardly turned to go and almost reached the door when he turned again.

“I might be asking too much but can I have a pack of your gummy bears? I feel like I’ll need them tonight.”

The laugh that left you came from somewhere so deeply buried that even Yunho couldn’t help but join, smiling widely at the sound that filled the room. You nodded and brought him a packet, still recovering.

“You can stop now, you know,” he said, embarrassed.

“I just,” you sighed, chuckling again. “It was so out of the blue, it caught me off guard. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry, Aurora,” he countered and you laughed a bit harder, putting a hand over your mouth as you waved at him to leave already. He thanked you before leaving, saying he wouldn’t want a madman on his team and you went to your room, your laugh fading with each passing moment until it turned into an unknown feeling so overwhelming that you sat down on the floor, burying your head between your arms and crying silent tears.

—-----------------------

Something between you and Yunho had shifted ever since that night.

You were still Mr. Jeong and Miss Han during work hours, and he was still the same strict boss of your team, however, he had a hint of affection in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Maybe it was from the shared experience from that mission. Maybe it was the way you now knew you had secrets that you kept from each other, only allowing the other to know there was, in fact, something. Maybe it was something about that night when you shared a moment of vulnerability.

You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it was messing you up and that was not good. You remind yourself every night that you are a Crescent. You answer to the Captain. You’re on a mission, and your goal is to uncover what’s going on in the Medical Research Department through any means necessary.

Involving yourself with Yunho is only a risk, and yet… you couldn’t help but be selfish. You could justify it as a means to get to Medical Research as much as you wanted, but you knew deep down that there was another factor and you could not dismiss it. It didn’t matter, you supposed, as long as nothing was done about it, but Yunho’s words rang in your ears:

“But I’m human too.”

Those words tangled around you like a spider’s web that you couldn’t shake off. They haunted you at night when you tried to sleep. And they were following you like a shadow right now, on your way to meet Seonghwa in the darkest hour of the night, this time in the Cryptography Department’s cafeteria where you could always come up with the excuse of ‘missing the food’ if someone spotted you.

You sat at the far end of the room, waiting for Seonghwa to come as you opened a pack of gummy bears, already plagued by the memory of Yunho- you seemed to be associating a lot with him these days. Seonghwa entered, silent as a pin and settled across from you.

“I hope you’ve been doing well,” he asked.

“Thriving, really,” you muttered and he raised a brow at that attitude. You cleared your throat.

“All well at home?” You dared to ask.

“Seems so,” he was chewing gum rather loudly. “All well at yours?”

“Seems so.”

“How long till you can get to your goal?”

“If you don’t push some strings, maybe a while,” you thought out loud.

“We don’t have the luxury of time anymore, Aurora.”

You paused. Something had happened. “Then push some strings.”

He glared at you for a few moments before sighing. “Prepare yourself. You’ll be meeting your mentor soon.”

“Got it,” you got up, ready to leave.

“And Aurora?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your distance from the enemy, will you?”

For a moment, you wanted to scratch at his face and ask him who, exactly, was the enemy here. It was the same in Utopia, the same here- the higher-ups not caring for the lives lost as long as they could get something out of it. And what were they doing to contribute to the war other than add more fuel to the flame? You were starting to question who exactly you were working for. Of course, you were ultimately doing this for Utopia, but you wanted to gut the people who sent you here too. Not the Captain, no- he only trained you. The ones who controlled him, and the ones who controlled them.

The Captain- he only dared to question them once, and you remember seeing him at his lowest then when they took away something precious from him. You didn’t know what- you didn’t need to either. You could see it- everyone could. And it was the same here, with Yunho. He was just a puppet in this horrible, horrible game.

“I am,” you practically spat, knowing he must have spotted you hanging around with Yunho casually. “And you remember who the enemy is, will you?”

With that, you left the department, feeling like you were being choked and when you entered your department you paused-

Was someone following you?

You turned but there wasn’t a soul in sight. You didn’t dismiss it as just a feeling though. You could never be too careful around here.

Someone had seen you come from the Cryptography Department, which meant you were being watched. You scoffed to yourself as you went inside your room and resisted the urge to peek out of your window.

No more meetings with Seonghwa. You were on your own now.

—-------------------------

Things were getting tense at the department, to put it simply.

You were starting to wonder if it was simply because of the information you and Yunho had received that day which was somehow important enough to shift the power balance of the war, or if it was because Yunho had dared to question the higher-ups on their lack of regard for the sacrifices in this war.

You were positive it was the latter- especially with the way Yunho was starting to look so weary. Your seniors were also being harsher on your team, going as far as to cut down on your break hours. Yunho kept looking apologetic which made your suspicions stronger. Nothing seemed to cheer him up anymore.

You were staring at him from across the room, ignoring the pile of documents in front of you as you binged on your usual choice of snack, wondering if you should go ahead and ask just what was going on when a knock sounded and Dr. Choi entered, looking grim.

“Prepare for a group mission- we have to retrieve a person now, so make sure you gear up properly- 2 of you on the field while 3 of you stay back and monitor.”

Yunho looked as confused as the rest and when he got up to ask, Dr. Choi raised her hand. “I just got notified moments ago. Apparently they’re not pleased with what happened on your last mission, though I hardly believe that’s the reason. Just… get it over with and then we’ll speak.”

“Not pleased with what happened on our last mission,” Yunho repeated with a scoff. “All we did was follow orders and stick to protocol.”

You could see the slightest hint of pity in the doctor’s eyes before she sighed. “I know. I’m only obeying orders here too. You’ll be briefed on your way there. You have 20 minutes.”

With that, Dr. Choi exited and Yunho met your eyes. You pursed your lips, shrugging. It seemed like you had no choice. Stuffing the unfinished gummy bears in your pocket, you stood and went to him.

“You and me on the field. Who else are we taking?”

Yunho hesitated for a moment. “I’d rather you stick back as the monitor this time.”

You slumped, bored. “You know I can fight, Sir. Come on, make a decision.”

“I-” he hesitated again and your heart ached as he looked down. You wished you could ask him what the matter was. “I don’t want to see any of you get hurt if things go south.”

“Dr. Choi said two on the field, Yunho, in case you were thinking of going alone this time.”

Yunho raised a brow at the way you called his name and how you knew exactly what he was thinking. He gave in, nodding. “Fine, but you only cover me, okay? No offence.”

“Can’t promise, but okay,” you shrugged and he shook his head, getting up and calling Hani, Jongho and Chris- his most skilled. “You remember the drill, right?”

“Definitely,” Jongho grinned and Yunho seemed to relax a bit after seeing his teammates in better spirits than himself. He set the timer and all of you disappeared in the locker room, getting dressed in the uniform with bulletproof vests underneath. You checked your guns and were about to leave when a knock sounded on the door. You opened it expecting Hani but were surprised to see Yunho instead.

“Done?” He asked and you nodded. “Can I come inside?”

Your heart sank and you gave him some space to enter in the relatively tiny room. Yunho wasted no time, digging into his pocket and producing a bunch of bullets and placing them in your palm. “This could get me fired or worse, but I need you to take these in case things don’t look good. Hide them on yourself.”

You raised a brow, counting them- 5. “This isn’t official,” you said and he nodded. “And what makes you think I won’t snitch right now?”

The way Yunho simply smiled- almost smirked- told you that there was a reason he needed you on his team. “You can go ahead and do that if you want to.”

Something unspoken passed between you two as you stared at each other and you finally hid the bullets in your inside pocket, making him roll his eyes in amusement before he left. For extra measure, you stocked more on the daggers before following him outside.

You learned on your way that one of the doctors from Medical Research had gone missing a few days ago and was reported to have been sighted in the west in a cabin near the enemy lines. You suspected it was the Crescents again, and to confirm your suspicions you spotted Seonghwa on your way out who saluted mockingly when he met your eyes. You had not expected it to be this soon after your previous mission and you wondered if something had truly gone wrong this time.

During the half an hour drive after which you were to travel on foot, Hani set up the radios and Jongho and Chris prepared to defend the rest in case they were attacked. This time, there were no escorts, no military cars, no soldiers- nothing that would alert the enemy. After reaching the end of the road, you and Yunho stepped out and Hani checked your equipment once again.

“If I lose your signal, I’ll assume you’re in trouble and wait exactly 2 minutes before I send one of them to inspect,” Hani said and Yunho nodded in approval. “If you lose our signal, you should proceed with the mission and come back when you’re done- if we’re under attack, you’ll know- I’ll fire a signal. In that case…”

“In that case, we’ll abort the mission,” Yunho said and Hani shook her head.

“Dr. Choi specifically asked us to retrieve the doctor at all costs. You do know what they mean by that, don’t you?”

“I don’t care what she said,” Yunho countered. “I don’t think we can make it back if you all are under attack anyway.”

Hani pursed her lips, looking at you for help. “Knock some sense into him, will you, Aurora?”

You shrugged. “If you’re under attack, I can come and help. You, Sir, can carry on with your mission- or we could switch these roles.”

Yunho sighed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m the one being reminded of protocol.”

Hani grinned. “We all have our times, Yunho. Now get your ass on the field, both of you. I’m starting the clock.”

You whistled at the friendly banter. Yunho checked on his weapons one last time before motioning for you to follow him and you took a moment to run your eyes over the expanse- all dead trees and barren ground. If you squinted, you could see the faint silhouette of the marked border between Utopia and Halaland, with armed officials prowling in the area.

“Aurora?”

Home. So near yet so far away.

“You coming?” Yunho asked and you realised you were still staring in the direction of your homeland. You jogged to him, matching his pace when you fell in step with him, peeking at the map in his hands.

“Are you sure you have a clear head right now, Aurora?” Yunho asked.

“Yeah, sure, I was just… admiring the scenery.”

“Admiring the scenery?” Yunho scoffed, craning his neck to see just what about the scenery was so interesting.

“I was wondering,” you changed the topic. “Why send us to the field to retrieve a doctor? Why not the soldiers?”

“Aren’t we all soldiers, fighting for something?” Yunho mused and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Okay, they usually don’t send the soldiers so the other departments don’t get a whiff of what’s going on in Medical Research.”

“What exactly is going on there?” You asked, finding Yunho with a strange, knowing expression on his face. You gulped. “I’m assuming you know if they sent you?”

“I don’t know either,” he sighed deeply. “I just know there is something. I’ve heard it could help with winning the war. Only the higher-ups know. I’m nobody.”

“Well… that certainly sounds suspicious, but then again, there’s always some secret in every department, I suppose,” you let out a short laugh and he agreed. “So they’re afraid the doctor might snitch? Will they even let him live if we manage to get him back?”

“That is… a very good question. We might be taking him to death’s door if we retrieve him,” he clicked disappointingly. “But we don’t know anything, so we can’t assume and make these decisions. I think the Strategy Department, us, we’re trusted enough to retrieve him. We have the skills, and who would we snitch to anyway? Pretty sure they’d know if there was a spy among us.”

You shrugged and Yunho pointed in the distance, spotting a couple of cabins bordering the town. “That’s our destination. You ready?”

You nodded and walked in silence the rest of the way. When you reached the first cabin, you were about to go around the structure to inspect when Yunho grabbed your wrist.

“You’re only covering, remember?”

“That’s not how this works-”

“That’s an order,” he insisted, looking slightly amused that only confused you further and you rolled your eyes, snatching your wrist away with a pout that he chuckled at before taking the lead.

With guns out, you went around the first cabin and then inside, finding no signs of life. The second cabin was just as empty and you were inside it now, watching the third from the window when you spotted movement.

“Uh, Sir?” You called and he turned around. “I’m spotting movement in that cabin.”

Yunho urged you to follow him, asking you to go around and stand by the window so the target couldn’t escape- if it was indeed the target. You signalled your team about the cabin. Yunho motioned at you that he was going inside and you provided cover as he unlocked the door-

“No-”

You turned at the strangle of a voice that left Yunho who ran towards the man- the target- who had just swallowed something you were assuming must be a pill, and before you could help them or react, you spotted someone else in the next room and pointed your gun at them.

“Drop your weapons, right now-”

You paused when recognition flashed across the man’s face and your heart sank dangerously. Before you could signal one or the other, the man moved his aim from you to Yunho and prepared to shoot.

Maybe it was instinct or something else that possessed you to take the bullet for Yunho, you mused, as you wondered why the person you had once called friend and had trained with- spared you. Out of familiarity? Out of regard?

Burning pain overwhelmed every other sense in your body as the bullet lodged into your arm and Yunho was quick to shoot at the man, missing by an inch but probably grazing his leg given how he seethed before hiding. You clenched your eyes shut and opened them, forcing the cloud of pain away. “Save the target, I got him-”

“No, you’re hurt-”

“I said, save the target.”

Yunho frowned at your tone and you didn’t give him another option as you loaded your gun and started for the room the man had hid himself in- he was at a dead end- this room had no window or other means of exit. You spotted him standing in the corner, gun aimed at you.

“It’s been years-”

You shot at his leg before he could speak further, earning a howl from him. One glance at Yunho to confirm that you got this, you moved towards the man and pressed the muzzle against his forehead.

“What are you doing here? What did you do to the doctor?”

“I was saving him,” he spat on your boot and you clenched your jaw. “You know that.”

You glanced behind and got closer. “Did the Captain send you?”

The man scoffed. “And what if he did? Why are you here?”

“He got me here, in case you forgot,” you seethed. “And he got you in this mess. Remember that.”

“What are you gonna do, huh? Kill your old-”

You heard the familiar footsteps of Yunho and with your eyes closed shut as if that could undo everything you were about to do, you shot your old friend, his body going limp and falling with a thud against the wall. You finally opened your eyes, bending down to shut his eyes with trembling hands.

The footsteps grew closer and you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You didn’t care at that moment. You turned to him and said, “Call the team, please. I’ll stay here.”

Yunho nodded, giving you space and leaving the room. With glazed eyes, you placed a hand on your old friend’s cheek, noticing a silver glint around his neck and you dug out what was a necklace with his code name carved on it- KB. You smiled at that, recalling when he had showed you the necklace a few years ago, very proud of it. You searched his pockets but found nothing significant so you just slumped next to him, ignoring the pain in your arm until Yunho came again, having alerted the team.

With his dagger, he cut a piece of his shirt and tied it around your arm where you were still bleeding out. You only stared into the distance, your ears ringing with the sound of the gunshots. When he was done, he patted your arm again.

“Come on, they’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you got up and exited the room, noticing the doctor with foam around his mouth. “Cyanide pill?”

“Seems so,” he said. “I’ll tell you the details later, okay? You should get treated first.”

“Just tell me this was not a waste,” you turned to him, lips quivering. “Tell me all of this was not a waste.”

Pain flashed across his eyes but he nodded. “It was not, trust me. I cannot tell you right now,” he glanced behind him at his team approaching them and you understood. “But I have something. And it’s not for the higher-ups to hear. You understand?”

Somehow, the cloud of pain cleared then. You understood. You looked back at the doctor. “Mind if I check something?”

“Go ahead,” he said and you checked his neck for something similar to a chain. Yunho coughed and you looked at him- he patted his pocket in answer. You nodded and proceeded to check the room, taking anything you thought would prove significant while Jongho and Chris packed the bodies and loaded them in the car- protocol. Proof that you were not lying, though you were pretty sure one of them directly answered the higher-ups and it was not Yunho, which meant-

You almost ran outside and looked into the distance, running your eyes across the expanse and it was then you spotted the tiniest movement in the cabin in front of you.

Eyes. They had eyes and ears everywhere. Both the Crescents and Halaland’s own spies. The question though, was…

Just who had watched everything that had just happened?

—------------------------

You had a few scenarios of how you could get into the Medical Department- either infiltrate with your ‘spy skills’ and risk getting caught, or have Seonghwa pull some strings so you could go for something like an ‘inspection’, or the personal favourite- attack.

However, you never thought you’d get access simply because you got shot during a mission.

It was surprising because every department did have their own little emergency room with the basic first aid stuff. It was probably because you had to report, and what place better to report the death of the doctor than the very department he worked in?

“Let her get treated first,” Yunho insisted, “And then we’ll report.”

“We don’t have time to spare, Mr… Jeong, is it?” The middle-aged man with an arrogant look that had to be his staple shrugged. “Besides, it looks like a simple gunshot wound.”

You could feel that Yunho was mentally and physically reaching his limit as he tried to reason with who you recognised was the supervisor of the Medical Research Department- both the restricted and the secret one, the restricted being his cover for the public. You cleared your throat, wanting to get this over with. “I think we can report first- I can hold on for a while-”

“No,” Yunho said with a tone of finality and glared at you first before glaring at the supervisor. “My partner will be treated first and foremost. You, of all people, Dr. Kim, should understand that.”

Dr. Kim groaned before ordering the staff to escort you to the treatment room. You got stitched up after being administered painkillers and you had to stuff a few gummy bears in your mouth for the instant sugar rush or else you were positive you would have fainted. You were just being administered another IV when you heard a very familiar voice.

“I got this from here, thank you.”

You watched the nurses leave and a familiar blonde come closer, checking on your IV. You almost gasped and he stifled his smile as he checked your vitals.

“Not how I expected to see you but oh well,” he whispered and you grinned.

“Not how I planned to get here either,” you said. “It’s so good to see you, Yeosang.”

“Likewise, Aurora,” he smiled before glancing around. “Tell me what happened.”

You briefed him as quickly as you could, handing him the necklace that belonged to KB. He nodded grimly and when you told him about spotting someone who must have been watching you, he nodded in confirmation.

“It’s been a while since Yunho fell out of their good graces. I bet they’re making sure he doesn’t make more mistakes.”

“What did he do?” You asked.

“He tried digging into the secrets of the Research Department after the Utopians were expelled from this centre,” he revealed and you were genuinely impressed and confused. “He had many Utopian friends and some of them disappeared without a trace.”

“Are they messing him up on purpose?” You dared to ask. “First the attack on our previous mission, and now this…”

“That’s not how they mess you up,” Yeosang tsk-ed. “That’s just misfortune. Anyways, your report better match Yunho’s or you’ll be the one who might become their target. And Aurora?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe. Remember your motive. Don’t trust the enemy. And… we don’t have much time. You barely have a week before we sign Utopia for a loss it will never recover from.”

Your heart sank yet again and you nodded furiously, understanding the gravity of the situation now that you heard it from someone who worked in the secret lab himself. He was about to leave when you called him and mouthed ‘stay safe’.

Thankfully, Yunho gave his report in front of your team and all you had to do was follow up with your story, omitting the part where you knew the identity of the man you killed. After signing a few documents, you were allowed to leave and Yunho said he had someone to meet, asking Hani to make sure you go right to your room and rest.

Hani did just that, going as far as to help you take off your clothes so you could wash up while she cooked you some ramen, commenting on the lack of your healthy food choices. You smiled- she was such a mother not just to you but to everyone in your team. She did leave when dinner was ready and you had time to sort your thoughts out, enough time to recall what happened today.

You took a bullet for the enemy.

Could you call Yunho ‘the enemy’? Yunho, the person who cared with all his heart, the person who did serve the enemy, the one who would have taken a bullet for you too just because that is who he was. And Yeosang’s revelations had only confused you further about him- you should have just asked him if Yunho was the enemy.

But perhaps, he was just as confused as you were. Yunho had dared to dig into something so big. What stopped him? You understood that he was brilliant and after losing so many skilled Utopians, they couldn’t afford losing their own. But… what, exactly, made him stop? What did they have over him that was eating him alive because he could do nothing about it? The fact that these unsuccessful missions were simply misfortune (though one was staged) meant that they had something else over Yunho.

What could it be? A secret? Blackmail? Family?

You shut your eyes as you tried recalling his file that you had memorised, just like every other file on the employees of this department-

A knock sounded and you opened your eyes, wondering if your ears were still ringing. But when another knock sounded, this time louder, you got up and hesitantly opened the door-

To reveal Yunho.

“You look like a mess… Sir,” you scanned him- messy hair, buttons undone, uniform torn from where he had cut it earlier for you, smudges of dirt and possibly blood on his exposed skin. “What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to make sure Hani didn’t kill you on her way here,” he scoffed. “Can I… come in?”

You nodded and he stepped in, awkwardly glancing around and you urged him to take a seat. You offered him dinner but he refused and you wondered if you could insist but handed him a chocolate bar instead and he accepted it, asking you just what happened during the mission.

“I found these,” you put your hand under the sofa and extracted a few pages. “Not sure what they mean but they might make sense to you.”

Yunho finished eating and examined the papers. “Medical terms I’m not quite familiar with. What do you reckon they say?”

“I don’t know, all these terms seem foreign to me,” you admitted- it wasn’t the entire truth. “You have someone who could translate it for us?”

“I’ll think about it. Shall I take these then?”

“Go ahead,” you said and he folded them neatly before putting them in his pocket. “Did the doctor say something before he… died?”

Yunho sighed deeply, rubbing his face. “I asked him why he gave up on his life at the sight of me. It’s my uniform- he recognised it. He only said that he did not want to go back and that he would prefer death.”

“‘Prefer death’,” you repeated. “That’s… something must have happened?”

“Yeah, I don’t know anymore,” Yunho slumped back. “I’m not sure I can investigate either.”

“Why?” You dared ask.

Yunho looked at you. “Do you have something to lose, Aurora?” You shook your head and he smiled. “Then you are very lucky.”

“What will you lose?” Your voice was almost a whisper and he looked down.

“Four years ago when we declared war on Utopia,” he began, “I lost a lot of friends. Some moved. Some went missing. When I tried tracing them, I always found myself at the Medical Research Department. I asked myself- why would someone missing be there when they didn’t have any relationship with the Medical Department whatsoever?”

“Oh, goodness,” you sighed and he nodded.

“I still don’t know why exactly- what exactly is going down there. I don’t know who to trust. When they realised I was digging in, they drafted my brother into the army so they could hold that over me. And after the previous mission, they threatened to place him within the enemy lines, where the war and the bloodshed is the thickest. I suppose they’ll do that now.”

“That’s… inhumane,” you breathed. No matter if Yunho was the enemy, that was still inhumane- to hold family against you. “They’re controlling you.”

“They’re controlling everyone here,” Yunho scoffed. “You cannot trust anyone.”

You raised a brow and he looked at you as if having realised just what he said. He locked eyes with you until you asked the inevitable.

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know, Aurora,” his voice was low and he shifted towards you. “You clearly have secrets you keep to yourself. I don’t know why I’m here- maybe I’ve doomed myself tonight.”

His eyes were expectant and they tugged at your heart with their warmth and vulnerability and… trust. Trust without knowing who exactly you were.

And you realised how deeply done you were for him when you found yourself saying, “I trust you. With all of my heart.”

Yunho blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stomach in knots, you leaned forward a bit as you locked eyes with him. “I trust your judgement. I trust your motives, and I wish I could share your burden because I do not like to see you like this. I wish I could be your strength… if you’d allow me to. And I have nothing to lose anyway. I could do this for you-”

Perhaps you had signed yourself for your doom, you wondered, as Yunho grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you, bringing you in for a kiss so urgent as if you were on stolen time. Stomach in pleasurable knots, you leaned forward into the kiss, running your hands through his hair and pushing them away as you kissed him better, tasting the longing and pain in the way his hands cupped your face so delicately, in the way they later traced the outlines of your body-

And made you hiss in pain when they accidentally touched the bandaged spot on your arm. Yunho immediately drew back with concern on his face and you laughed a little when he examined it.

“I’m okay, just… it took me more by surprise, I guess.”

Yunho licked his lips, eyes falling to yours as he caught his breath. He forced himself to look at you. “You shouldn’t have taken the bullet for me, Aurora. Do you know how much it pains me?”

“I know you would have done the same,” you said and he looked away as if he did not want to believe that. “I’m fine. I know what I was doing.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” you cupped his face this time, caressing it lovingly- you couldn’t bear the look in his eyes. “I would do that for you again,” you pecked his lips. “And again,” you kissed his cheek, trailing your lips up the side to plant another kiss on his temple. “And again,” you joined your forehead with his, his large hands going to hold your waist, making you feel so very safe as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, out of breath. You let him have his moment, caressing his head.

“What are we going to do, Aurora?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you kissed his head and he looked up at you. “I’ll make sure those bastards pay for what they did to you, you hear me? That’s a promise, Yunho. And I keep my promises.”

You sealed that promise with a kiss, so slow and sensual this time that it had you both wanting more. You unbuttoned Yunho’s uniform and tossed it on the floor, leaving him in a half-sleeve fitted shirt- oh, how beautiful he was. You traced his shoulders down to his arms and he snaked his hands up your waist, the sensation of his cold hands over your bare skin making you squirm a little which made him laugh, and then he was pulling you in for another kiss, this time as heated as it could be, tongues colliding and bodies rocking against each other in a rhythm that made you one.

You kissed each other for the longest time, affirmations and promises exchanged and then you lay in his arms, tired. You traced the multiple scars on his bare upper body, limbs tangled and breaths mingling as he fell asleep and you stifled in your tears, because-

Because this was love, in its pure and raw form. It took you so long to get here but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. You wondered if all that happened was so that you could be right here, in this moment, feeling so complete-

But still, with the guilt of the lies you had said, with the secrets you kept. He was going to find out, and he would hate you, perhaps with all of his heart. But…

You’d keep your promise.

You were going to make Halaland pay for not only what they did to your homeland but what they did to their own. How they broke their own.

You chanted it to yourself along with the beat of Yunho’s heart.

—-------------------

Yunho was right about his brother being drafted to the enemy lines this time. He hated that he was right, but he could do nothing about it-

Or so he thought, because something had indefinitely snapped inside of you. Your hatred for Halaland was not only because of the fact that they took away your home and family, but because they took away the families of the ones who laid their lives for the cause. What for, you wondered? Halaland couldn’t even protect its own. So now, you were hell-bent on doing something about it.

Each day, you pretended to be serving Halaland with utmost sincerity, urging Yunho to put on the same act. He tried his best and you prayed that it would mislead the superiors and whoever was watching. Every other night, you and Yunho gathered in either of your rooms to discuss whatever you found during the day- stealing from the database (Yunho was quite skilled) or picking information spontaneously (your forte). You’d match your findings but-

Whatever was going on in Medical Research was very, very serious if it was kept this confidential. You always found yourselves at a dead end- anyone you could contact was either still an employee or wiped off the map without a trace.

So each night, you held Yunho in your arms and assured him that you would make it right for him. You caressed his face and kissed his head in promise, and each night he would ask you why you were doing this for him, just like he asked you tonight.

“Call me ungrateful but I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me, Aurora,” he was tracing the outlines of your face with one finger while you rested in his lap with a thick bundle of files you had been going through since the evening- the information of all the Utopian employees in the Medical Department. “I’d really like to know what the other reason is. You can’t simply be doing this for me.”

“What do you think it is?” You asked absently, reading the data of the person Yunho had pointed out earlier- Song Mingi. One of his oldest friends here who used to oversee some business in Medical Research before he went missing without a trace. The one, Yunho had told you, who made him embark on this journey.

“I don’t know,” Yunho’s arm was a comfortable weight around you and his lips on the bare skin of your neck were welcome. “I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“You’re pretty insistent for someone who doesn’t want to find out,” you mumbled, frowning as you read Song’s supervisor’s name- Dr. Kim- the same doctor who took your reports in your previous missions. “Is it strange that every missing person is somehow connected to Dr. Kim of Research?”

Yunho stopped nuzzling into your neck to look at you and think. “He is the supervisor.”

“That file over there,” you pointed at a file on the floor. “It said that Dr. Kim became the supervisor after every Utopian was expelled. A promotion at such a sensitive time is rather strange, don’t you think, given how ‘saddened’ you all must have been having lost a valuable ally in the war.”

Yunho shifted under you, making you face him, limbs still tangled. “You’re saying the feud must have begun due to something that happened in Medical Research, right?”

“It’s a possibility we should consider,” you planted the seed, knowing very well that it was a fact. “The timing of it all is strange. Do you think we can have someone confirm this fact? Or at least give us a hint?”

“I could ask Dr. Kang, but I’m not sure where his loyalty stands now,” he faltered.

“I mean… if they still haven’t erased him off the map, probably with Halaland?” You said and Yunho chuckled.

“Not that part. We’re all answering to someone. I don’t know if he’s answering to the right person.”

“I think we can trust him,” you offered. “When he trained me, he always insisted I put my ‘moral values’ before any order, no matter who it came from. It always stuck with me.”

“I can see that,” Yunho smiled, caressing the nape of your neck. “It’s probably why I’m here too. You don’t give a shit about rules, do you?”

You shrugged and smiled when he looked a little proud. “I could say the same for you. Do you know how dangerous it is to dig into information again? Haven’t you learned anything from the last time you did it?”

“I can’t let you carry this burden alone, can I?” He asked and you pouted because you’ve had this conversation with him just about a dozen times and he always insisted he do the dirty work and risk getting caught even when he was the one who had something to lose now. Yunho pecked at your pouted lips. “I want you to come with me when I meet Dr. Kang. He could be of help, and if he’s not…”

“If he’s not, all you have to do is say the word and he won’t breathe any part of it to anyone else,” you promised, heart dipping with the lie and he chuckled at your confidence before he kissed you.

His kisses, you were finding, could be soft like feathers when he wanted them to be. And right now, that was it. And these moments always put some hesitancy when you tried returning the sentiments because with each night you spent together like this, you were certain you could never bear being apart from him, never bear if he ever looked at you with hatred in his eyes- when he would eventually find out the truth.

Yunho’s hand cupped your face and tilted it, his hold tighter near your neck. You kissed back, but-

“Why do I always feel like something is holding you back when you’re with me, Aurora?”

You bit your lips as you drew away, finding it incredibly hard to open your eyes and face him but you did.

“The only reason I hold back,” you told him, shifting in his lap so you could face him, “is because I am so, so afraid of losing you, Yunho. I’m so afraid that you’ll hate me one day.”

“I could never hate you,” his grip on your waist tightened and you looked down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you were right now. If he pushed the right button, you would spill everything-

“Look at me, Aurora.”

You did and you couldn’t take the look in his eyes- you physically couldn’t, not when you wanted to tell him so much and risk wasting everything you’d built so far, so you kissed his lips with an urgency that told him to shut up for now and just kiss you back and make you feel good, and oh, did he return the sentiment.

“Don’t look at me like that again if you don’t want me to break,” you whispered in his ear.

“What about me, huh?” He stifled a pleasured groan when you rolled your hips on his lap. “Do you want to watch me break?”

You drew away and smiled and Yunho thought it was the most sadistic smile he had ever seen on anyone and it turned him on so bad. He picked you up effortlessly as he stood, making you scream a little and wrap your arms around his neck so you wouldn’t fall, laughing into his shoulder as he placed you on the table, hands on your thighs spreading them apart so he could fit between them as he looked down at you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said and then he was bringing you flush to his body and kissing you, rolling his hips along yours as you wrapped your legs around him. He wasted no time turning the kiss as heated and frantic as the movements of your body, his hands in your hair and one still on your thigh, thumb playing with the waistband of your shorts. You were lazily running your hands along his upper body and it was driving him crazy-

“Isn’t it about time we take it to bed?” You offered, looking at the clock. “It’s way past your bedtime, Yunho.”

He didn’t miss the suggestive glance and with another sensual kiss where he pulled at your lip, sending butterflies in your stomach, he let his fingers graze dangerously close to the skin between your thighs.

“Not before I have a taste of you right here.”

You shut your eyes in pleasure as warmth coursed through you at those words and you became lost in the bliss as he started trailing his lips down your body.

Taking it to bed could definitely wait.

—-----------------------

It took you both a few days to perfect the plan to meet Dr. Kang, and you were now wondering if Yunho was turning into you as he started setting the stage so the act could play out effortlessly, so that someone would come and tell him to go to Medical Research for some dealings or strategic planning. And you wondered why Yunho hadn’t done it earlier- he was so good at it that you were a little scared and had started to wonder if he wasn’t who he pretended to be.

Yunho laughed when you asked him that during your break when you two were alone in the cafeteria. “I obviously needed a partner, right?”

You shrugged, not buying it. “You’re doing just fine by yourself. I haven’t done anything.”

“You, Aurora, pointed me in the right direction,” he told you and you looked at him. “I’m simply preparing a ride so we can go there.”

And the ride was arranged in the matter of a few days when Dr. Choi herself assigned you and Yunho, the most skilled strategists in the department, to help sketch plans for the future course of the war and Halaland’s stance. Yunho asked Dr. Choi why they were doing the planning in the Medical Department- was it to plan the placement of medical camps? Dr. Choi answered that she believed so, but even she sounded unconvinced. So, together with Yunho, you were finally going to the Medical Research Department officially.

What you hadn’t expected was to be escorted to a storage room at the end of the Medical Research section and to be confronted by the same Dr. Kim who was pretty much in your blacklist now.

“Your seniors swear you’re the smartest of the bunch so I’m going to trust them and have you sign this non-disclosure agreement,” he began, keeping it simple. You and Yunho met eyes in confusion. “I’ll tell you the details after you have signed.”

When Yunho didn’t move, Dr. Kim scoffed. “Your old friend Kang swears you’re the best strategists, both of you, so I took his word for it. Want me to call him?”

“No, I think we’re good,” Yunho said. “I just need to look at the clauses before I sign. Can I have a moment?”

“Sure,” Dr. Kim relaxed back in his seat and Yunho tapped at your arm in question. You nodded- if Yeosang had really been the one who pulled the strings, you weren’t going to complain. In fact, even if he wasn’t, this was your chance to see just what was cooking here. Yunho seemed to understand that and you both read through the terms and signed.

“Very well,” Dr. Kim got up, taking the documents. “You’re being led to Level 0 of Medical Research- the lab only the selected few know about.”

Your heart sank in nervousness- this was it. Dr. Kim led you to the stairs and continued. “We’ve recently made a breakthrough and we think it’s about time that we get some input from the strategists. The war could end within days now, do you understand?”

Yunho looked as surprised as you had expected. Dr. Kim unlocked the door and immediately, you were hit with the stench of strong chemicals and cleaning alcohol. Dr. Kim asked you two to wait while he went inside a lab and you turned to Yunho.

“Listen to me- no matter what you see today, you do not react, understand?” You said, realising fully well that you were risking your identity. “Even if you see a familiar face or something inhumane, you play along and make the decisions they would like to hear. You cannot play the hero right now, okay?”

Yunho looked genuinely confused now but he understood that there was a high chance something immoral was going on here. “I’ll try.”

“You will, for your brother,” you whispered. “And I will too. For you.”

He squeezed your hand in assurance and before he could say anything else, Dr. Kim was back. “Follow me.”

—--------------------------

You two had just gotten back to your room from Level 0 of Medical Research, and you were staring at the walls as you tried to make sense of the horrors you had seen.

You were pretty sure it was as much of a blur to Yunho as it was for you- if you tried replaying it in your head, you recalled going inside and Dr. Kim explaining the background of how they got here, but then he led you inside and showed you-

A human experiment.

A man not much older than you, tied to the bed with steel chains as if he could break them apart. What was more surprising was that Dr. Kim confirmed he very well could. He was in a confined space and you watched through the glass.

“This seems to be our first successful prototype. Since a decade, we have been playing with the idea of a specialised human army- better strength, better skills. Quicker reflexes and better impulses. Utopia was our ally back then, and we usually discussed it as a fantasy until one of our doctors made a breakthrough in his research and created a drug he thought could do something similar.”

“So Utopia is doing the same as us?” You had asked casually, putting a hand on Yunho’s back and caressing once to assure him you were playing along.

“The whole reason Utopia and Halaland fell apart was disagreement on this- they have better morals, I’ll give them that,” Dr. Kim chuckled loudly and Yunho seemed visibly uncomfortable but passed a weak smile. “They changed sides. We continued to test our drugs, but we fell back- most of our skilled doctors had been Utopian. We lost many, hence the slow progress.”

“But now- you seem to have succeeded?” Yunho said.

“We’ve almost finished the testing period with this one,” he motioned at the man who seemed to be sleeping right now, looking very normal. “If the trial is successful, we’ll use the drug for others.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Yunho cleared his throat. “Where or who exactly are the others?”

Everything after that was a blur- Dr. Kim had revealed that there were only a few volunteers for this programme right now but they had a few Utopian employees and soldiers they had detained over the past few years. He had asked for strategic advice and you had set the trap for him- if, in case you lost the mission to expose them and they went ahead with their human army, you wanted them at the western front first- you knew Utopia would have something up their sleeve too- but Utopia would never stoop so low.

Yunho had done his best to play along. You two spent a few hours in that department, even met Dr. Kang who Dr. Kim claimed was one of the researchers for this programme and when you finally got to leave, Yunho followed you to your room.

You turned to him, still not believing what you had seen. “Is this real?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Yunho took a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m surprised I didn’t throw up at Dr. Kim’s feet.”

“Glad you didn’t,” you muttered. “What are we going to do, Yunho?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore, Aurora. I now know why my brother is fighting at the enemy lines- so I have no choice but to participate in this… massacre. Massacre of lives is what this is, Aurora. It disgusts me how they’re handling humans there- aren’t they humans themselves?”

“They’re not,” you almost whispered.

“I don’t know how many unfortunate souls have been wasted because the trial failed. That drug is basically a human-control drug. It could cause so much destruction in the war. What’s the point of winning now, though?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I understand now, why the doctor we went to retrieve didn’t want to go back- death is a better option than becoming a human lab rat.”

“Can’t we expose them?” You wondered out loud. “I don’t know- even to the enemy?” You looked at Yunho but the guarded look in his eyes- he had to think of his brother too. “I could do that, Yunho. I have nothing to lose- you can play along while I expose them and end this inhumanity-”

“You won’t do it alone,” Yunho shook his head furiously. “I won’t let you do it alone.”

“You have your brother, Yunho-”

“And you,” he turned to you and you almost cried, overwhelmed. “I can’t risk losing you too.”

“And I can’t risk losing you, either, please,” you joined your hands and rested your forehead against them. “Please let me do it alone.”

“What are you not telling me, Aurora?”

You looked at him, finding a knowing look in his eyes. You shook your head and he sighed. “You still can’t tell me?”

“Not yet,” you finally muttered and he nodded, planting a kiss on your forehead and you let the tears fall, realising this might be the last moment Yunho would look at you with such love.

“Why do you cry, love?”

You only hid your face in his lap and he held you as you cried silent tears, caressing your head through it all. When you stopped, he made you look at him as he wiped your face.

“I don’t know why you don’t believe me, I don’t know what you’ve done or at this point, who you are, but I know you’re not as bad as you make yourself to be,” he had the gentlest smile on his face as he ran a thumb over your lips, locking eyes with you. “And I could never hate you, because you’ve saved me so many times now. You don’t even know how.”

“I’m sorry,” you almost whispered and he shook his head, leaning in to kiss you deeply and you responded eagerly. When he broke back, he joined his forehead with yours.

“No matter where we go from here, I love you, Aurora. That’s the reason why I won’t let you do this alone, and I would hate it if you put yourself in a situation where you get hurt and I lose you forever, do you understand?”

You smiled at that, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him good and tight. “And I love you, Yunho. That is why I’ll still insist that I have to do it alone- because I can’t bear to lose more people.”

“This argument will never end at this rate,” Yunho laughed as he rocked you back and forth. You drew back, pushing his hair away.”

“I know one way it will,” you suggested and he immediately understood, attacking you with an urgent kiss, making you arch into it and soon, he was on top of you on the couch, taking off layer after layer of your clothes, of the mask you wore around him, until you were bare. Until you wished he would call your real name when he kissed every inch of your body and murmured sweet nothings. Until you broke in every way possible, wondering how you could ever recover from this.

You had to do this alone.

—---------------------------

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

When the Captain had said those words, you had wanted to tell him he was wrong. Yes, that was the loneliest period of your life, but even then you had a few people who were with you. You had simply nodded and let him believe his words were wrapping around your heart.

However, now that Yunho held Kang Yeosang at gunpoint and looked at you with absolute hatred in his eyes, you couldn’t help but think back to that moment. You could practically feel the Captain’s hands on your shoulders as he whispered it in your ears-

“You’re always alone. And you always will be.”

Before you knew it, you were pointing a gun at Yunho’s head too and Yeosang stopped struggling in his grasp as he looked at you in surprise.

“We don’t have to do this, Yunho,” you said and even though your tone was harsh, your voice still quivered a bit.

“We really don’t, Aurora,” he said, tightening his hold on Yeosang. “I don’t know who you are anymore or why you’re doing this, but I can’t let you take these people.”

Everything had gone horribly wrong tonight. Seonghwa had provided you with the big plan- a distraction that would give you and him enough time to vacate Level 0 with the people trapped in there. Yeosang and Dr. Seo Yuna- a Halaland native who strongly opposed the idea of human experiments- were on duty tonight so all they had to do was sneak you in and show you the emergency exit. It led to a restricted parking area where Seonghwa would be waiting with an ambulance-

An ambulance because the Medical Department would be set on fire tonight. Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were trained just like the other doctors in Level 0 on the evacuation process in case of an emergency. What the higher-ups wouldn’t expect would be everyone in Level 0 disappearing without a trace. Level 0 and all its data would turn to ashes tonight.

The plan was seamless, however, Yunho’s presence was something you didn’t expect and it caught you off guard when he arrived at the basement. He spotted you transferring his old friend, Song Mingi, on a stretcher and ran towards him, making you freeze momentarily as he examined his state.

“What happened?” Yunho asked you.

“Do you… recognise him?” You were going to play dumb for as long as you could.

“That’s Mingi- my old friend,” he sounded broken as he brushed the hair off Mingi’s face, finding him all ragged and pale. “What are you doing here, Aurora?”

You glanced around- Dr. Kang and Dr. Seo were not present. You turned to Yunho. “You can’t be here- I was assigned to help evacuate the members of Level 0 because of the fire. Nobody assigned you, as far as I know.”

“And who assigned you?” His gaze was hard and you bit your lips, about to make up an answer when you heard footsteps behind you and saw Yeosang appear from the tunnel, look at you both and take out his gun to point at Yunho, who scoffed in disbelief.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave- you cannot be here,” Yeosang drew closer and for the first time, you couldn’t make a quick decision, only glanced back and forth like a confused child.

“Why is my presence such a big problem here?” Yunho straightened, gazing at both of his friends long and hard. “I’m authorised with access here, just like Aurora, am I not?”

Yeosang glanced at you and your reflexes kicked in- you knew that look. He was going to shoot Yunho. When his hand shifted on the trigger, you immediately grabbed a tray and threw it at Yeosang, making Yunho duck as he shot. Yeosang gaped at you and you ran towards him but he pointed his gun at you, making you raise your hands.

“Please, Yeosang, not him,” you begged. “He can help- just listen to me-”

“The Captain only allowed you to save his brother,” he whispered. “He said nothing about Yunho.”

You were about to protest when Yunho pushed you to the side- you didn’t even hear him coming this time. He was on Yeosang in a second, startling him and wrestling him until he was in his grasp and Yunho had him at gunpoint.

And so here you stood, pointing your gun at him. You caught your breath and shut your eyes when the tears started to sting. When you opened them, you spoke. “You have two choices, Yunho. You can either let me go and meet your brother at the same cabin the doctor died that day, or you can kill me right now and lose everything you love.”

“I’ve already lost everything I love,” his voice was strangled and you shook your head in denial.

“You can save your brother,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Where are you taking them?” He asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” you shook your head, knowing what it would cost you if you told Yunho everything right now- not only your life but Yunho’s as well.

“Is this who you are, Aurora?” Yunho scoffed. “A true Halaland loyal?”

You didn’t respond though his words felt like a stab. “You have 10 seconds to make a decision.”

The sound of those seconds being ticked off echoed within all of you and at the 9th second when you were about to pull the trigger, Yunho let go of Yeosang and you exhaled in relief, but it died down when his eyes met yours, full of betrayal. Hatred. Confusion. And so, so much anger.

“It’s funny, now that I think about it,” Yunho pushed his hair back. “All those times we interacted. Your sole purpose was to use me to get here, wasn’t it?”

This time, the tears did leave your eyes. Yeosang shook his head and asked Yunho to exit the premises and go through the emergency exit unnoticed if he wanted to save his brother. Yunho passed you a sad smile before he left and you sank down to your knees, fisting the ends of your shirt and screaming your heart out. Yeosang patted your back once before muttering that you had already lost precious time.

You helped transport the members in a daze. When you set fire to the lab, you didn’t feel one ounce of regret. You told yourself you would set a similar fire some day and burn your feelings for Yunho as well.

But tonight? Tonight you would let them consume you and drive you mad. Only tonight.

So when you spotted the Captain in an abandoned building that you were going to use until you could go back to Utopia, the cracks of dawn illuminating the ruins, you didn’t bow like you would have. You ran to him instead and hit his chest with your fists repeatedly, crying and screaming, not caring who witnessed the moment. The Captain made no move to stop you, raising a hand to stop Seonghwa instead who was pulling out his gun. He let you have your moment until you were tired and rested your head against his shoulder, crying your heart out.

“Who broke you, Aurora? Who melted that ice-cold heart of yours?”

“I hate you for doing this to me,” you cried and he tsk-ed. “I won’t forgive you.”

“I told you, Aurora,” he held you by your shoulders and you looked at him- hair styled an odd way- half bleached and half natural. It made him look fiercer than ever. “I told you that you will always be alone in this field. It is your weakness that led you here. You can blame me all you want, but it’s on you.”

“Just tell me it’s over,” you said, feeling drained. “Tell me my job is done.”

“It is,” he nodded. “When we go back to Utopia… you’re a free bird if you choose to be.”

You looked beside you at Seonghwa and Yeosang, shaking your head. “I’m going to head inside first then.”

—----------------------

Yunho didn’t know what he was expecting when he broke into the cabin, but his brother laughing with someone else looking unscathed and free just wasn’t it.

He frowned in confusion. “Gunho?”

Gunho gasped audibly before rushing to hug his brother and Yunho almost cried in relief. Gunho looked at him. “You’re finally here!”

“Were you waiting for me?” Yunho scanned him, making sure he was okay.

“Of course I was,” he patted his arm, drawing back. “Wooyoung here was kind enough to get me- he won’t tell me who he is but apparently he holds the authority to discharge me from the army. I’m free now.”

“No way,” Yunho breathed, looking gratefully at Wooyoung who shook his head.

“I was simply doing my job.”

“Who assigned you?” Yunho dared to ask.

“I think you know that already,” Wooyoung winked, getting up and straightening his army uniform. “I’ll be taking my leave now. My last message for you is ‘don’t go back’. Oh, and I have something else-”

Wooyoung dug in his pocket and produced four bullets, placing them in Yunho’s extended palm. Yunho recognised the bullets- the one he’d given Aurora, but-

“There should be one more?”

“She kept one,” Wooyoung smiled knowingly.

Yunho sighed deeply. “Tell me where to find her- or someone who can give me answers.

Wooyoung considered for a moment- he had seen the way Aurora had nearly broken when she begged him to save someone she knew nothing about except the name. And the fact that this person was here and still looked sceptical…

Wooyoung took out a piece of paper and pencil and scribbled an address. “Seven days from now, you can find us here. I don’t know if Aurora will still be there by that time.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asked.

“We’re going back home, Yunho,” Wooyoung smiled. “The war is ending soon. There will be no victory, simply a treaty.”

“Home?” Yunho couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Wooyoung simply saluted mockingly before exiting the cabin.

—---------------------

The past week, Yunho had replayed every moment since Aurora came into his life. Every single time he had seen her, had interacted with her or heard about her from someone else.

He realised he had been blind. The answer was so painfully obvious- Aurora wasn’t from Halaland at all. He was pretty sure her name wasn’t Aurora as well.

She was a spy, he knew. And now that he thought about it, she hadn’t really done much to hide it- at least not in front of him. From always staring towards the west, not at the setting sun but towards her homeland, to almost cracking Utopia’s code so easily- he wondered if she was the mastermind behind the code. The way she questioned every move Halaland made, the way she put a distance between them-

Every night, he held the four bullets in his hands and wondered why she kept the fifth one. It made him so, so restless.

And every night, Yunho always ended his train of thoughts with the same question every night-

Did she actually love him, or was all of it to get to Medical Research?

Was he simply a rung on the ladder to get to her goal? Or was he not meant to be part of the equation at all, a mistake on her part?

Yunho didn’t realise how long he simply stood in front of the cottage until someone creeped up behind him, patting his back and scaring him a little. It was Seonghwa- yet another surprise.

Just how many people in the Halazia Research Facility were spies? Were they only Utopians or were they from other nations as well?

“I almost killed you because I didn’t recognise you,” Seonghwa lit a cigarette, offering him one but Yunho declined. “So you’re finally here.”

“What do you mean ‘finally here’?” Yunho asked. “Were you expecting me?”

“We placed bets- don’t tell Aurora,” Seonghwa snickered. “Yeosang owes me 10 now.”

She was still here.

“Where is she?” Yunho gulped.

“Not so quick, mate,” Seonghwa scanned him. “You’ve been travelling quite a bit, haven’t you?”

“Have you been spying on me?” Yunho scoffed.

“Weren’t you looking for a place to keep your brother safe?” Seonghwa simply said. “Have you found one?”

“Not yet,” Yunho admitted.

“You could come with us, you know.”

Yunho considered that. “I don’t know who ‘us’ is. I can’t blindly follow you to god knows where.”

“Well then, I guess you should meet the Captain. He specifically asked me to bring you to him if you came. He’s quite interested in seeing the face of the person who broke his dear Aurora’s heart.”

Yunho raised a brow though his heart sank at his admission. “Where is she, Seonghwa?”

“Out on a mission- she’ll be back by dawn,” Seonghwa urged him to follow him inside and took him to a room where Yunho spotted a man with unique hair standing by the fire. Seonghwa knocked on the door and he turned.

“This is Jeong Yunho.”

“This is him?” the man scoffed as he came forward, a cane in his hand that Yunho wasn’t entirely sure was for mobility purposes. Probably a weapon. “I expected something else- I don’t know. I can’t believe this is the face that melted her frozen heart.”

“And who are you?” Yunho countered, watching Seonghwa take his leave. The man motioned for him to take a seat and Yunho did after a moment of hesitation. The man followed, sitting in front of him.

“They call me the Captain around here. Captain of the Crescents- a group of spies who were born for the sole purpose of taking revenge on Halaland after they betrayed us. Betrayed Utopia.”

Yunho let that sink in. “What revenge?”

“I think you know that already,” the Captain sighed. “Honestly, when I learned that Aurora had told you more than you should have known, considering you don’t have an ounce of Utopian blood in you, I was ready to kill both her and you. But, that brat…” he scoffed in amusement. “She got on her knees for you, Jeong. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Yunho looked blank so he continued. “Aurora is one of the best spies I’ve known in my life. I had to break her to make her bend. But you… what did you do? What sweet things did you mutter to turn my strongest spy into such a hopeless mess? All these years of training her into becoming a cold-hearted thinker and assassin, and she melts because apparently you looked, really looked at her with those eyes of yours.”

Yunho looked down, each word hammering a nail in his head. “If she had told me… I would have joined her. I was never in favour of Halaland’s unethical methods, and after I discovered what was really going on…”

“If she told you, you would have exposed her. She understood that, because she would have done the same. You’re only human, after all,” the Captain twirled the cane in his hands. “Why are you here today?”

“To get answers,” Yunho replied.

“You’ve got your answers now, haven’t you? Scoot off, then,” he relaxed back, glaring at Yunho.

“Who are you, really?” Yunho asked. “How come you knew about the Medical Research Department?”

The Captain’s smirk fell and he looked wistfully into the fire. “Because I’m one of the masterminds behind Level 0, and to this day, I regret being a part of it.”

Yunho was positive his heart actually dropped to his feet. “You’re a Utopian?”

“The only Utopian who escaped at the right time before they turned against us and stole our ideas,” the Captain looked at Yunho. “Kim Hongjoong, in flesh and blood.”

“Kim Hongjoong is dead,” Yunho couldn’t believe his ears. “We held a funeral for you.”

“A good cover up by Halaland, I’ll give them that,” he shrugged. “They needed to do that to take over and turn on Utopia- they’ve been on my tail ever since. I wasn’t sure if they had the brains to continue with the experimentation- testing on humans was never my idea either. It’s why I sent Aurora to finish this once and for all. We’ve met with your higher-ups and we’ve agreed to not expose their dirty deeds if they end this nonsensical war. The official end of the war will be announced soon.”

Yunho definitely felt something like a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders at the revelation. “And where are the members of Level 0?”

“The ones who were actually doing the dirty deeds will be secretly tried in court. The ones who were spies, like Yeosang… they’re going home. I understand you had a few friends there? Mingi, for instance? He was my closest junior- he’s in the next room if you wish to see him.”

Yunho nodded, letting all of this digest before he got up. “Thank you for what you did- I’m not sure I quite understand the gravity of it yet- it’s too much to process right now, but… thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I did what I had to,” Hongjoong looked at him, an unspoken agreement shared.

He needed to thank Aurora.

He needed to see Aurora.

Yunho spent the most part of the night with Mingi, catching up and confirming the facts, learning that the ‘lab rats’ were now being treated by the doctors and realising how brutally his people had treated even their own. His heart felt tight in his chest by the time he was done chatting with him and he went outside for some fresh air.

And a few minutes later, spotted two figures walking towards the cottage.

He could recognise you even from your silhouette, and he thought it was crazy that he did. He recognised the exact moment you saw him and paused for a mere fraction of a second before continuing to move like nothing had happened. He knew your mannerisms, he knew you inside out, and yet-

He knew nothing about you.

He didn’t even know your name.

This time when you met eyes, he waved awkwardly at you and you felt your heart sink again. You wanted to scream at him, shout at him, but you were far too tired. Your companion took leave, disappearing inside and you walked slowly but surely to Yunho.

“You’re here.”

Yunho passed a tight-lipped smile, wondering where to begin. He scanned you as you took off your mask and hat, looking-

Fatigued.

“Are you- have you been well?” Yunho asked, hating how he sounded.

You shrugged. “Did you meet your brother?”

“Yes. He’s safe now…” Yunho took a step forward but you backed away and he paused, muttering a ‘sorry’.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then?” You began, looking up and scanning him- you had no idea where he had been the past week but he looked the most weary. “You heard everything, I’m assuming?”

Yunho nodded. “I should have seen it earlier. You didn’t really hide it from me, did you?”

A faintest hint of a smile crawled to your lips. “You don’t always see what’s in front of your eyes, Yunho.”

Yunho’s heart tugged at the way you called his name. “What are we going to do, Aurora?”

You passed a weak smile. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m going back. I cannot spend one day longer in this wicked, wicked land.”

Yunho felt the jab good and well. “I’m sorry for what it took from you.”

“Are you?” You sighed when hurt flashed across his eyes. “I’m not even mad at you, Yunho. I’m just… disappointed in myself. I’m disappointed that my love didn’t seem real enough- that you doubted my intentions so quickly.”

“And wouldn’t you have done the same?” Yunho challenged. “If I turned my back on you? Wouldn’t you have questioned every moment that we shared?”

“Maybe not-”

“You could have told me, Aurora,” Yunho almost yelled in frustration but clenched his eyes shut to reel himself in. “All you had to do was trust me. You didn’t trust me enough to tell me who you were. I keep calling you Aurora but that’s not even your name.”

You felt the very familiar sting in your eyes. “I had people to protect.”

“And so did I,” Yunho’s gaze was hard. “And I had you to protect. I would have laid my life down for you, if only you had allowed me to.”

You turned away, wiping your eyes. “I couldn’t allow that.”

“So we’re even then, aren’t we?” Yunho’s voice was also quivering and you dared to glance at him. “Please… look at me.”

You did and this time when he stepped towards you, you didn’t back away. He put his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them just like he used to. “Tell me your name.”

You passed him a sad smile as you told him your name, buried somewhere so deep inside you, uncalled for years. He said it twice, testing it on his lips. It felt right.

“Y/n,” he smiled widely and you laughed through the tears. “I want to know who that is. I want to learn about you again, if you’ll let me. If you forgive me for doubting you and for being an asshole-”

“No,” you shook your head furiously. “You gave me so much, Yunho, and I returned nothing in comparison. I would have lost myself there if it weren’t for your presence always grounding me, even when we were as good as strangers. I- you gave me love when I thought I’d never find it again, when it had become a foreign concept to me.”

“Do you love me still, y/n?” He asked, his eyes expectant.

“I do, you fool,” you laughed, finally earning the grin you so loved to see. “I hope you don’t hate me.”

“How could I?” Yunho’s hand shook slightly as he cupped your face and you leaned into his touch. His gaze was so strong as he caressed the angles of your face- you were positive your knees were actually turning weak and perhaps they were, that’s why his other hand travelled to your waist to bring you closer. “How could I hate you when you look at me like this? Like you could break me? Like you’d break in my touch too?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering there and you breathed in the scent of him- the scent that was your home now. Yunho didn’t waste any more time, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that absolutely shattered you the way it was so cautious yet so, so demanding. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes with your body flush against him as you kissed back, deeper, making him loosen up with every movement until you were simply making out, exchanging all the feelings too deeply buried, all the words unspoken, all the apologies and the promises.

“I missed you so, so much, y/n,” Yunho breathed against your lips when you broke apart for breath, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth that made you dig your nails into his skin. He pecked your lips again. “You have no idea.”

“I do,” you kissed him. “I know all too well.”

Yunho drew apart, tucking your hair behind your ears as he gazed at you lovingly. “Take me with you this time, will you?”

“You want to come with me to Utopia?” You raised a brow.

“I mean… all my friends will be there,” he glanced back at the cottage and you understood who he meant. “Besides… I’m quite sick of Halaland too. Pretty sure they have a wanted poster back in the facility for me.”

You laughed at that. “Basically you want to come with me because you’re dead meat here.”

“I’m dead meat anywhere if I’m not with you-”

“Stop!” You put your hands over your ears, laughing as you ran away because his goofy side was back and he went after you, making you squeal.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood watching from the window upstairs. Hongjoong tsk-ed. “An absolutely disgusting sight, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Seonghwa clinked his drink with Hongjoong’s and they both cursed under their breaths as they drank-

To love. To victory.

To going back home.

1K notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 28 days

Text

The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.

Nico’s a fan.

Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.

What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.

“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.

Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”

“Well fuck you, then.”

She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”

It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.

“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”

Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.

“Just — tell me where Will is.”

“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”

Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.

“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”

Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.

As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:

ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.

(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)

In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:

Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.

The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.

Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.

“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”

“Ah. And the music…”

“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”

“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.

“Yeah!”

…Very, very weakly.

“…Okay.”

Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.

“You’re such a dweeb!”

“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”

Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.

…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.

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coryosbaby · 4 months

Text

Cry, Kill, Die

[ part two ]

Synopsis: In which Coriolanus Snow takes you for his own.

content warning . Dark themes— stalking, kidnapping, and Stockholm’s syndrome heavily mentioned // Extremely dubious consent, Murder and gore mentioned, misogynistic elements, past prostitution and a hint of bisexual! Coryo?// mentions of oral, non consensual masturbation, peacekeeper (ish?) ! Coryo, dom! Coryo, goes more into his pov this chapter <3

Coryo has a tendency to make women hate him.

He’s never known why. Although he sugars them up with sweet words and gifts, they never seem to meld to his image the way he wants them to, never obey. He wonders what he’s doing wrong.

And then, one day, he sees you.

It was a rainy night in district twelve when he took sight of you. You were almost childish in your ways, skipping merrily throughout the gravel streets, as if the whole world wasn’t against you. You had stuck your tongue out to catch the rain droplets into your mouth, and Coryo felt something so primal kick in his gut that it was almost blinding.

He began to follow you, after that.

It wasn’t that strange, at least not to others. He was a peacekeeper, they couldn’t say shit to him even if they wanted to. After the death of Sejanus the other peacekeepers strayed away from him, so he didn’t have to worry about them, either.

“A snitch,” they had spoken, quiet whispers that they thought he couldn’t hear. “Betrayed Sejanus. Yeah, him. The nice boy with the capital parents.”

Coryo had ignored them, when they talked about his other past lover. And if he was being honest he didn’t have enough of his mind occupied in that field to care. No, he was focused on something bigger— something, a plan perhaps, that would make you his.

You weren’t innocent. He knew that, took note of the many men you took home from bars for a few dollars. But there was something so precious about you, that set you apart from the others. You could be claimed if the right man stepped in and took the initiative.

And that’s when Coryo got the idea.

Lucy Gray was out in a heartbeat. There would be no remembrance of her, of her mockingjays, rainbow dresses, or silly songs. Lucy gray didn’t matter, anymore.

All he saw was you.

When he let Lucy gray lead him out into that cabin, it was out of sheer dumb luck. Everything was falling into place; he had found a place to keep you, a way to get rid of Lucy Gray, a place secluded and empty. This is where you would become his wife.

He decided it then, after he had shot and disposed of Lucy’s body.

It was the perfect place. It would be a home, a place for your own enjoyment and for your shared children. It would be nirvana.

A downside fell in front of Coryo, along the way. He would be going back home— his plan to make his way back up to the top had worked. But so what? He could find a way around his duties, a way to see you at least once every day. That’s why he chose the peacekeeper uniform. The time he arrived in district twelve every day would be the time most guards were off duty. He could wander as he pleased, and no one would recognize him because he glided smoothly in the crowd of men. Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be discharged, after all. There was no way, the other peacekeepers chided, that that one quiet guard could be him.

And when Coryo kidnapped you, he felt a sense of enjoyment.

The way you squirmed, your small form shoving up against him, made his cock harden in such a way that it never had before. When he threw you into that room, when he had locked you up, he felt relief. You would be safe. No one could hurt you there.

The cabin wasn’t finished. He knew that, but when he took you he caught you at the perfect time. He had locked all the doors in the house besides the bathroom and that one bedroom the day before, out of sheer intuition. Why would he let his girl see such a horrid mess? But it didn’t matter, he’d get you to like him and you’d both fix them up later.

The dress was made by Tigris. The creative blonde had no clue of Coriolanus’ terrible plans, assumed he had a date with a woman from one of his classes. She had no idea that she had stitched together the perfect welcome home gift.

When he had turned around for your frightened form to change into it, he had wanted so badly to rip it to shreds and split you in half on his cock. Imagining it— all that hard work, the beautiful pink fabric, ruined, while his cockhead parted your sweet folds— made his mind whirl with insidious thoughts. He had pushed them away, though, and when he saw you covered in the pretty pink ruffles he was satisfied.

He felt guilty, not having much time to spend with you due to his constant meetings with Dr. Gaul and the other game makers. But through obstacles, he must persevere. He made sure to see you at least once a night, to bring you food and water. He noticed before through your window that whenever it was your night to cook dinner for the family, you always chose tomato soup. So the boy immersed himself in the art of cooking, in the art of learning how to make your favorite meal. He brought it to you in the styrofoam cups the capital cafeteria provided. Tigris had aided him in perfecting the dish, had told him, “wow. You really like this girl, don’t you, Coryo?”

She had no idea.

The night he comes home with the gown, he’s got a pit in his stomach. Even though it was his first off day in weeks, he had lost his temper earlier today, the damned thing that always seemed to get him into trouble. He had sunk his teeth deep. In the literal and emotional sense.

He’s angry with himself. How could he lose control like that? In his home? With you?

So he does what he does best: he provides. He provides you a brand new, comfortable nightgown, silky and blue; He knows pink is your favorite color but so help him, he wants the best possible fabric for his girl. And if that means sacrificing one small thing for your comfort, then so be it.

When he had went to fetch dinner and the gift, he hadn’t left the cabin. No, there was no trip to a cheap, rundown district restaurant or a long train ride to a capital dress shop. Coryo sat, watched through a window, and waited.

He used this as a way to not only admire you, but to find out what you do when he’s gone. To see if you’ll panic. To see if you’ll leave.

You don’t move an inch, and with that Coryo is glad. You don’t want to leave him. You’re happy.

He comes in, equipped with the bag and the cup of tomato soup he had stashed on the side of the cabin when he got there earlier that day. It’s probably cold, but he knows the nightgown will make up for that for sure.

When he comes in, he sees the way your eyes light up with fascination. The way you smile at him, so sweet and pretty, makes him blush.

He plays peek a boo through his fingers when you change. He kisses you, and you kiss him back, and then he lets you get down on your knees and suck his cock. He knows it’s wrong, he should wait, but he’s gotten so excited and you’re so gorgeous…although, your nose is caked with a bit of dirt. You may need a shower. He doesn’t know why you haven’t taken one— he had stocked up on your favorite shampoo, conditioner, and body washes. He had took it upon himself, took the risk of his image, to sneak inside your bathroom and make a list of what you liked. Perhaps you have depression? Perhaps he didn’t gift you the correct shampoo?

No, perhaps you need him to help you. Silly girl, always needing his assistance! He pulls away from you, once you’ve taken all his cum down your pretty throat. He strokes your hair, and pecks you gently on the cheek.

“A shower?” He suggests.

—

When you hear those words from him, you want to cry in relief and also in fear. Your hair is matted, your body sweaty and gross. The cum you just swallowed isn’t sitting well in your tummy. You nod to Coryo, and let him guide you to the shower. You might as well let him see you naked— at this point, you’ll have to let him. He’ll make you reveal your body one way or another. Either way, you’re used to this, letting men see and use your body for something in return. It’s almost the same as your daily occupations.

Almost.

You prepare for the worst. For him to get hard for a second time, part your legs, and slip himself inside you. But surprisingly, he doesn’t. He just admires you from afar, taking in the sight of your bare breasts and cunt resting in between your legs. He asks if you want him to touch you. You say no, that you want to wait.

“At the right time,” you say. “When we’ve.. gotten to know each other.”

When you mention that to Coryo, he understands perfectly. Of course you want to wait— what you two have is special.

He massages your scalp with shampoo and conditioner, scrubs you down with a rag and your favorite soap, rinses it off, and pours unscented wash onto it. He looks at you, almost as if asking for permission (how ironic). But you don’t care what he does anymore. You just want to sleep.

He uses his fingers to gently part your legs. He runs the cloth over your cunt, your thighs. He parts one side of your ass with his big hand, and scrubs you there, too. He uses the shower head to wash you off, and you try to ignore the throb in your clit when the water spurts against it. You hate being attracted to Coryo, at least physically, because he’s using a separate rag to clean himself and it makes heat flood your face. When he’s done, when you’re both ridden of filth, he wraps you up in a fluffy green towel. He slips the nightgown over your head and puts his shirt and pants back on— he’ll need to bring a set of pajamas, next time, he thinks.

He sits you down on the bed, and he presses a kiss to your head. You’re tired, scared, and feel something else you can’t quite place. Coryo turns the lamp down, and he urges you to get into bed.

You’re surprised when he slides in next to you. You tense, as he wraps his arm around your middle. So different from earlier that day, and as he whispers sweetly to you, “goodnight, bunny”, you wonder how in the hell your life has turned into this.

—

When Coriolanus puts you to bed, he doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t do much of that anymore, anyway. He’s got too much on his mind, too many plans. He’s thinking about what color to make his child’s nursery, about the train ride he’s going to have to endure tomorrow morning. He had lied to his family earlier that day, at least a little bit. “Staying at my my girl’s tonight,” he had said dreamily to Tigris. “Wanna give her something special”. She had taken the bait.

For a split second he thought of quitting the capital— he’d have more time for you, after all. But he wants the absolute best for his girl, and he can’t give you that on a peacekeeper’s lousy salary.

He watches you sleep. Your lashes flutter as you doze, and he hears a whine spill from your plump lips. Your body turns, the nightgown riding up to expose the fat of your thighs. Coryo can’t bring himself to look away.

His cock twitches in his pants, beginning to swell to full hardness. How wrong it is, as he slips his hand down into his pants. But he can’t bring himself to care. It’s as if you’re asking for him to get aroused from you— why are your legs parting, as you let out soft, whiny breaths? Why is your bare cunt, plump and sweet, exposing itself so openly to the room? You’re like an enchantress, a goddess of seduction. You want him to do this.

Coriolanus unzips his fly, pull out his cock that’s practically aching. He spits, brings his palm down. He masturbates like that, staring at your bare cunt, thinking about your mouth on him earlier that day. How perfect you were, your soft pink tongue lolling out to lick his juices, the way you looked up at him with glazed eyes.

He spills into his fist, and wishes he had spilled all over your face. But he isn’t going to disrespect his girl like that.

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #Coriolanus snow fanfic #dark! Coriolanus snow #perv! Coriolanus snow #dom! Coriolanus snow #Tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic

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bluemusickid · 2 months

Text

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

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hidden-poet · 3 months

Text

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Coriolanus was back at the lake house, gun raised and hunting.

"Lucy Gray!" he called out.

A flash of her colorful dress dashes by. He takes aim.

BANG

One shot was all he needed.

A yelp. A sound of victory.

He keeps his gun raised as he stalks towards where she lay.

Branches scratch his face as he walks, pushing through the harsh forest to his victim. Goodbye Lucy Gray. We hardly knew you.

He breaks a large branch with this gun, pushing it down and quickly raising his gun again to finish the job.

Only it wasn't Lucy Gray laying dead. It was you.

The mockingjays sing out, laughing at Coriolanus’ mistake.

He feels frozen, stuck in time, as he gapes down at your body. Unable to even drop his gun.

You lay on the soft bed of grass. Your beautiful eyes still open, looking at him as blood gushes from your stomach.

He calls out to you. Begging you to be alright.

The gun drops as his knees did, and he cradles you in his arms.

"SHUT UP!" he screams at the birds circling his head.

"Ha-ha' he heard back, "Ma-Ma".

His eyes shoot up at the sound of his dead friend.

And then they start whistling the tune that has been playing in the back of his head since he was sent back to the Capital.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree-" he felt Lucy Gray’s lips upon his ear.

Coriolanus shoots up from his bed, drenched in sweat. His breathing is heavy and uncontrolled. He struggles to restrain it.

He reaches out beside him, his hand hitting the soft pillow. He scrambles around still, looking to make contact with your body.

He wanted you to be there. You are not dead. He didn't kill you, you were safe.

Upon hitting the edge of the bed, he awakens enough to remember you were never there. You don't sleep here yet.

Sweat rolls down his back and he takes his singlet off, using it to wipe the sweat off his face and throwing it to the ground.

The adrenaline of the dream was still coursing through him. It felt so real, he could feel the weight of the gun in his hands, the weight of your body as he picked you up. Lucy Gray’s wet lips against his ear. Taunting him.

The Covey played their last night at the Hob tonight. He had decided. He would send Peacekeepers over their way tomorrow to destroy their instruments and give notice.

He can't will himself to lay back down, even after that. He remains hunched over his knees, fingers locked and rigid.

If you were here, he would have woken you. You would have asked what he dreamed and he would say he didn't remember. You would make him a cup of tea and he would lay in your arms as he drank it.

When he was ready to return to sleep, he would take you back into his arms and you would rub the hand he rested on your stomach until he fell asleep.

But you weren't here.

And even if you were, he wasn't so sure you would be willing to comfort him.

You were still mad about your mother. He felt it when in your presence. Your eyes would float to the back room where she lay, when your attention should have been focused on him.

You tore yourself from any touch he offered. Kept conversation limited. Jumped only through the hoops you needed to in order for a morphling dosage.

He caught you sometimes slipping into your natural state of nurture. You would give him the biggest slice of pie. If he dropped something on the floor, you would automatically bend to pick it up.

One time he burnt his hand on the kettle, and you leapt into action, washing his hand under the cold tap. Telling him how much that must have hurt. He must be careful, it was an old pot and leaked if you didn't know how to handle it. How you would do it from now on.

When he kissed you, you went back to your default mode of a robot and gave him the cold shoulder. But it didn't matter, after so long of fighting bitterly, a little taste of love felt like a mountain of it.

He understood you needed time. That perhaps whipping your mother crossed a line. In time you would see that he used a violent hand to spare you violence.

Under his wing was the safest place for you and he was going to get you there one way or another. He tried gentle persuasion first, but you were resistant. Withering away before his eyes. Washing the dirty laundry of others. You had shown that you wouldn't listen any other way.

He rests his head back against the headboard, resting his body a bit more. He wished he could touch you to ensure you were alright. He was sure he wasn't going to sleep any other way.

His eyes caught sight of his commander's uniform that was hung up.

He is Commander Snow of District 12. Not Academy student Coriolanus Snow who ate cabbage for dinner and breakfast.

If he wanted to take a car and see you, he could. If he wanted to take a car and drive it into a ditch he could.

He leaves his commander's uniform hanging, grabbing his black cotton pants used for his day off, and another Capitol-ordered fresh white singlet.

He takes his keys off the kitchen table where he dropped them after a late meeting that ran well overtime. His boots were left laying on the floor just below them, being too exhausted to clean and shine them.

He was glad he didn't now, as he put them back on. The walk would only muddy them again.

The compound was quiet. It made him feel suspicious on his journey. He turns back to vacant walkways. Unconsciously, he avoids every room with light, choosing to take a darker path.

He would have to be back before drill training at nine. Most people wouldn't even know he had gone. He would like to keep it that way. Running off in the middle of night to see a girl is not the image he would like his soldiers to have of him.

Thankfully, the office building is void of workers so Coriolanus could unlock the safe with the car keys and take one in peace. He pauses thinking he could hear someone coming but they never did.

It took him two goes to correlate the number on the key to the one of the cars in the dark. He was pleased to find it was an everyday Jeep and not a guard car. It would bring less attention.

He stops by the gate and the guard on duty flashes a light in his face. The light being held up to him drops immediately, the soldier replacing it with a salute.

The soldier speaks into his communicuff and the gate swings wide. Coriolanus drives right through without looking back.

He doesn't feel his anxiety shift even knowing he was driving to you. Until he felt the softness of you, your gentle breaths, he was preparing for the worse. What if his dream was foreshadowing your death? He would turn up to your house to find you dead in bed.

Lucy Gray and Sejanus are dead, yes. But not all other rebels were. No, if no one hurt Mayfair why would they attack you?

You were well-liked in the community. Normally when Coriolanus asked questions, the answers were given freely but when the topic came to you people were more resistant.

Besides, hasn't he made it abundantly clear that any strike against you is a strike against him. No, they wouldn't dare.

Still he drove rather fast. Parking in his usual spot in the woods behind your house, he found himself flinging himself out of the car where he would normally sit for a few minutes to collect himself.

Your door wouldn't be unlocked. You weren't that stupid, he thought as he jogged down the hill. He would have to find another way in.

His hands touch the wood of your house. You were safe in it, he assured himself. Tigress and Grandma'am were safe in the Snow penthouse. He hadn't failed.

It was a hot night. Surely you had left your window open. The leaves crunches as his boots walk on then, rounding the house to your bedroom window.

It was open slightly. He could push it the rest of the way. Your house was only small. Your window came just above Coriolanus's head.

He lifts himself up on the window ledge, pushing your window up slowly trying to quiet the groan it gave as it went up. It was up enough that he could pull himself through.

You roll on to your other side, and his anxiety leaves him. You were alive and asleep.

He begins to unlace his shoes, anything else and you would lose your mind the next morning. His first one comes off without hassle, but he looses grip of his next shoe and it falls to the ground with a harsh thud. He instantly knows it's going to wake you.

You screech as any woman with a dark shadow of a man standing over her bed would. Your knees went up to your chest for protection, your hands clung your blanket to your chest.

His hand went to your mouth to stop the sounds. He hated the sound of your terrified screaming, even more than the sounds of the mockingjay.

"Shh, darling. It's me. It's me". He keeps his hand covering your mouth, and the other at the back of your head forcing you to look at him.

You stop, recognizing the voice.

"Oh my darling, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He pressed your face into his neck and could feel your big wet tears that sprung to your eyes.

"It's ok," he rocks slightly back and forth, "It's just me".

You snapped out of your daze. You push against him with strength that surprised him.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" You still sounded startled.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asks, he smooths your hair back out of your face. Were you that innately connected?

You blubber looking for words and he waits patiently for you.

His hand goes on top of yours and you yank it away.

"It's okay" He repeats, sliding into bed with you.

He slides you both down so you are laying together on top of your small mattress.

"Get out" you try but you make no attempt to wiggle free. You still sounded tired and disoriented. You weren't sure if it was a dream or not.

"Just go back to sleep. It's all alright".

Your small mattress meant that only one of you could sleep on your back, taking up most of the room while the other was forced to lay on their side.

Coriolanus laid on his back, pulling you across his chest. He had taken your pillow for his own, expecting you to find one in him. With his arm curled around you, pressing you to him, you felt yourself so secure that your fear fades and sleep returns.

He rubs the arm that was exposed to him. He could still feel your goosebumps.

You lay a heavy head right across his heart, somehow knowing what he needed. He could feel every breath you took under his fingers, feel your eyelashes flutter against his chest.

You were alive and you were his.

Coriolanus found that's all he needed to go to sleep. The hanging tree tune faded from his head as he counted the seconds between your every breath.

When he wakes the next morning, he finds himself cuddling a pillow. Your side of the bed was cold. You better still be in the house.

He checks the time on the wall clock. 7:30. He still had time before he had to be back.

He gets up following the sounds of a fry pan sizzling. He passes your mothers door. The old woman was still in the land of the dead due to her morphling dosage.

Dean Highbottom had one that was quarter the strength and it left him dazed for hours on end. The old women would have got by with the same but it was better this way. To have your undivided attention.

He enters the living room to see you over the stove, dressed in your jeans and white top again. He would have preferred it if you had remained in your nightdress, giving the atmosphere a cozier presence.

You had made scrambled eggs, and cooked up some ham for him.

"Good morning." He greets.

He walks past the table where you had set his place.

"Good morning, Commander." you return, you flip over the ham letting the other side cook.

Taking your waist into his hands, he bites your ear, "Coriolanus."

He lets go as you shake your head. He was only playing.

"I was surprised to find you here this morning" Your voice was tense and unhappy. He had startled you greatly.

He couldn't tell you about the dream for many reasons.

"I couldn't sleep." he misdirects.

"I know the feeling." you mutter.

The ham was done, he could smell it. His stomach grumbled as you plated it equally to two small plates.

"Thank you." he says as you pass it to him.

You follow him back to the table. He could feel you following so there was no need to turn.

He couldn't wait, picking up the hot ham between his fingers and taking a bite. Finishing it before sitting down.

He starts on his eggs, noticing that you didn't carry the other plate but a bowl of cut up apple.

"You aren't having any?" he asks.

"There's not enough for three."

"There's only two of us."

Your eyes pierce him. You did not think he was funny. But you still needed a favor from him.

"I am not that hungry," you lie, "I'll see if mum wants it and then I'll eat what she doesn't".

It annoyed him that you were choosing to starve for no reason. He brought the food for you. If you wanted food for your mother, all you had to do was ask sweetly.

You wait for him to almost finish to bring up a sensitive topic. That way there was nothing keeping him here to continue the fight.

"So both my work and my mothers work have said that I can have the jobs back if you give them permission."

You get up going to the kitchen bench and bringing back a piece of paper and pen. He watches you, already displeased with the topic.

"I've already written it out. All you need to do is sign it." you lay the paper and pen on the table next to him.

He eyes it while he continues to eat. The food was losing flavor in his mouth.

"Why would you need them? I take care of the rent, the food, the medicine."

You were looking for independence from him and he would not give it.

"There are other expenses. I need at least one of them."

He throws his fork down on his plate. Was there a need not covered by him?

"Like what?"

"Like food for my mother. Clothes for the winter. I need to replace the items destroyed by your peacekeepers."

You push the paper closer to him. It was common sense that you needed a job to live.

He didn't see it that way. You needed him to live.

"You could ask me for them. Breakfast has earnt you at least one of those things."

"I don't want to ask for them. I want to earn them."

"Are we not saying the same thing?"

"So you won't sign it?" Your hand knocks against the table harshly.

"No." he resolves, getting up from the table. If he left now he could take a shower before he had to be at drill training.

You stood up, looking upset with your jaw clenched and shoulders locked.

"I'll be back tonight with a bigger box. Have breakfast, I'll bring something for your mother".

He kisses your cheek, and you walk with him to the back door letting him out. You offer him no goodbye as you usually do. But you were hungry, he figured. Even Tigris got moody when she was hungry.

He makes it to drill training on time, only to count down the hours until he was back at your house.

Two days later you figured you still had your stall. Or at least your place in the market still remained.

Your bakery stall was still ruined. You had worked hard to get it to what it once was, only for the Peacekeepers to destroy it. You had no table, no shade, not even a chair.

Still, people came for your cakes, not for the aesthetic of your stall. And now with you back in Coriolanus’ favor, people didn't avoid you like the flu.

Your cake sale will be down for sure, just by association with him, but something would be better than nothing.

Using the very last of your baking ingredients you manage to scrape together a couple of sellable items and pack them away carefully in your basket.

The sun was so hot as you walked. By the time you reached your place, you were flushed and out of breath.

You quickly make-shifted a table out of what was lying around and went to hide in the shade casting over by a nearby stall, waiting for a customer.

None came for the first half hour.

Your eyes scan the crowd, smiling brightly as you try and invite a sale.

Your eyes catch another and you feel as if you've been dunked in ice cold water.

Edmund Flare, an old friend of your brother, came bouncing over to you with a smile.

He was a tall handsome man with big brown eyes, and dark flat hair that he kept short. He was a lot of girls' first crush but he had always mentioned he never had time for a girlfriend. He flirted on nights out, unlike your brother, sometimes even disappearing with a girl but would always return alone.

Archie would complain about the female attention his friend attracted all the time. He worked hard, when he went out for a drink with Edmund, he just wanted to finish the drink with his friend and go. But Edmund always entertained himself, causing his drink to go untouched for most of the night, and he wouldn't let Archie go until it was finished.

He was your brother's only friend. Archie was stoic by nature. He preferred to be alone. Only ever giving people polite responses in passing. Edmund was the exception. Archie nearly always went straight home from work. If he was even two minutes late, it was because he was talking to Edmund.

Archie preferred his own company, and that remained true with his friendship with Edmund. They were both so alike, it must have been like talking to himself.

They both worked at the mines together, and both became the man of the house at a young age after their fathers passing. They could both carry the weight on their shoulders without complaint.

They both wanted to go to District 8 for the higher wages but both had agreed that one of them had to remain to look after their families. You remembered they fought for weeks over who it should be.

Choosing to settle it in a game of cards, in which your brother won and Edmund was destined to stay.

While he stayed true to his word, you hadn't seen him in a while as the mining company sent him up into the mines for weeks at a time.

He did look after you and your mother, bringing back game he hunted, and loaning you money you could never pay back. He never wanted you to. When he came back from the mines he visited your house frequently, fixing up anything broken.

You had hoped that by the time he came down from the mountains to clear the dust from his lungs, that Coriolanus would have been a distant memory.

But he stood before you now, the faded bites on your neck still sore.

Only the voice of another, close, could cause you to take your eyes off him.

"Well if it isn't the whore of District 12". It was an older woman. Her face was hard from the years, covered in aging lines, not helped by stress. Her hair was thin, lumped in a bun on top of her head.

Edmund had been close enough to hear it, and picked up his pace to get to you.

"Whore of District 12? My Y/N? I think you have the wrong person".

He had scrubbed himself clean from the muck. His freshly clean hair fell softly in front of his face. He was lean and strong from his mining work.

"That’s the whore, alright. I heard Commander Snow is over her house nearly every night. Doesn't leave until late." The older woman turned her attention to him, but jabbed her finger at you.

You shake your head no. Edmund was dear to you. You couldn't stand the thought of him thinking badly of you.

Edmund's eyes freeze, looking at the women. Although you could ask him what she looked like and you don't think he could answer correctly.

You felt the need to justify to him.

"For dinner, that's all." Your neck bites throb, "A little conversation and that's all. He's gone after that."

"What choice does she have? You saw what he did to her mother." The man in the neighboring stall called out in your defense.

Edmund looked as if someone had punched him, knocking his breath out.

"Her involvement with him makes it harder for the rest of us. Every Peacekeeper now thinks for a handful of apples, they can have a little ‘conversation’ too!"

The woman takes a step forward and points to the cakes.

"She breaks bread with him and now wants us to buy cakes made from the spoils of her rendezvous. Me and mine won't buy a thing from a traitor."

"I'll buy one," Edmund interjected, pulling out a coin from his pocket.

You resist his money. Everything you baked had his name on it, free of charge.

He smacks the coin on the table and takes a brownie. Never bringing it to his mouth. He looked too sick to eat it.

"I'll buy one too." the neighbor came over and placed a smaller coin on the table, replacing it with a slice of pie.

You thank him, and an older woman watching the scene trades a bag of spices for a cupcake.

"You all are fools." the women spat.

"Leave." Edmund dismisses the woman, who huffs but does disappear into the crowd.

He comes around to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing you to his chest.

You sobbed a little as you hugged him back. You missed him. You missed your brother.

"I am sorry. I didn't know Y/N, I swear I didn't know."

You shake your head, pulling back to look at him.

"Commander Snow? Fuck. How did- It doesn't matter. Has he touched you?".

Your face burns up ashamed.

"No" you still wanted to be pure in his eyes but Commander Snow's voice rang in your head.

“Not until I get back to the Capital.”

Could you hide something that large from him? A few kisses and bites were not here nor there. Allegations were easily denied and hard to prove when it came to other forms of sex. But virginity came with such a tell tale sign.

"Good. There's lodging for the workers in the mountains. I know the guy that holds the keys. We could-"

You cut him off. God knows what would happen to the people you care about if you went missing.

"You don't understand. He's insane. He would find me, and you and-" you hyperventilate at the thought.

"Okay. Alright. What do we do then?"

You see Peacekeepers making their way down the stream on patrol and you push Edmund off you.

"Nothing. He'll be bored soon. He already is starting to. He doesn't come as often, and his boxes are getting smaller. Soon he won't bother to come at all with them".

Edmund looks appalled. "So we let him run free and hope he doesn't hurt you? And what's this about your mother? Is she alright?.”

"She's fine. Just a little scuffed up. He just likes the chase, that's all. He'll get over it".

The Peacekeeper walked by without a glance. With this assurance you take one of Edmunds hands into your own.

"The chase? He's not chasing anything. I'll-"

"You'll what? What will you do to the Commander of District 12?"

He falls silent. He could do nothing. Anything he does will get him killed. Nothing he could do would even deter the Commander, and Edmund still had mouths to feed.

You squeeze his hand in reassurance.

"He hasn't touched me".

"He will." Edmund seethes.

"Will you think differently of me?".

You tense at the thought of him shunning you. Nothing the Commander could do to you would ever compare.

He touches your cheek, "No. God, no. Of course not".

Your eyes shoot up to him, "Then it doesn't matter. Mum will understand. My brother won't know. You three are all I care about."

He takes your face into his hands, his brown eyes bore into yours.

"After him, I swear no one else will touch you." He could protect you against all others.

He wasn't a man who was afraid of violence for a reasonable cause. You try and stir his mind away from the brutal images.

"How long are you around for?" you asked.

"As long as you need." he answers.

"What about your family?" His mother hasn't worked since his father died. Too ill from grief. And his brother was too young to get any meaningful work. Edmund was their sole provider.

"I have savings.” As hard a worker as he is, he may lose his job if he went away for too long.

"You should go." you said as the Peacekeepers circle back.

He eyes them as they make their way. Understanding that Coriolanus had ears and eyes everywhere.

"I ought to get home anyway. They'll be wondering where I am. I just came to tell you I am back".

"Take them this" you pass him the bag of spices, "I have nothing to cook with them anyway".

He takes the small bag in his big hand, "I'll go hunting this afternoon and bring you back something."

You shake your head no. "The Commander brings me food at night. If he finds out..." you trail off.

"So he'll starve you then until you give him what he wants".

"I am hardly starving" you assure him, "He just doesn't like when I have extra to give away".

He sighs, "I wish there was something I could do."

"You can wait him out with me."

It was hot as he stood in the sun, teaching the new recruits how to shoot.

He spent most of his time behind a boy barley 16 from another district. He missed again and again.

It was hot as he stood in the sun, teaching the new recruits how to shoot.

He spent most of his time behind a boy, barely 16, from another district. He missed again and again.

The target didn't move, rebels would.

The young boy laid on his stomach with the gun pressed into his shoulder. All he had to do was scrape the side of the cut out figure. Coriolanus wasn't even expecting him to hit it fully.

He aimed too high and the bullet went over the top.

Coriolanus moved the gun with his boot, kicking it lower and more to the right. He then bent down and squeezed the boys shoulders together. They went limp every time he pulled the trigger and he lost control of the gun.

The young boy seemed afraid. The longer Coriolanus stood behind him, the worse his shooting got.

"One eye closed, the other on your target," Coriolanus ordered, "Shoulders tight and back. It's going to recoil into you and you need to brace against it otherwise you'll lose aim."

His mind went to the day in the woods. The ghost of the ricochet is felt against his shoulder. He knew he would have the dream again tonight. Maybe he would stay with you tonight.

"If you miss this time," he warns, "you'll be on dishes for the next four months".

Coriolanus had never touched a gun before he was a peacekeeper and even he wasn't this bad at his first try.

The young boy had a look of determination as he readied himself. A deep breath and a sharp ping resounded through the air. The bullet had hit the cut out’s foot. If it was a rebel it would have least got him down.

Ecstatic, Coriolanus slaps the boy's shoulders, and stands up. He shares the young boy's joy. Coriolanus couldn't wait to tell you tonight. What a leader he was.

His joy disappears seeing older peacekeepers returning to base from their day off. Two of them held a brown paper bag, another had taken to eating his cupcake.

The young boy tries to lift himself off the ground, his body sore from laying in his position for so long. Coriolanus' boot finds his shoulder and presses him back down.

"Keep practicing," He demanded.

He storms over to the group of peacekeepers, calling out for them to halt. They salute him as stands in front of them.

''where did you get those from?". The anger was hard to hide in his voice.

"The market, sir. There was a stall" one of them answered.

He feels his blood rush as he burns a hole in the boy with the cupcake on his lips. He wanted to take the cakes back but he couldn't be seen losing his composure. A district girl would not be seen having an affect on Commander Snow.

"I see," he seethes, ''carry on."

He turns, walking back over to the boy and grabbing his gun. He wasn't sure why he did. Maybe the sound of the repeatedly missing shots was getting to him.

He doesn't finish training. He needed to get to the markets. Surely it wasn't you. Others could have a bake goods stall.

But those bags are the same ones you used. You packed a sandwich once for him. You used them for everything now that you no longer used them for your stall.

And the cake. It looked like one of yours. You never skimped on the icing. It was thick and delicious.

He could have taken a truck to get there sooner but the walk to the market allowed him to think. He slung the rifle over his shoulder.

It wasn't you, he assured himself. You knew better. When he reached the stall and saw an old woman he would laugh.

He would tell you someone had taken your stall at the market, you would laugh too. No matter, you had him, you would say.

He pushes through the people who begin to part as whispers made their way to the front that Commander Snow was coming, and he had a gun.

He was not dressed in his usual commander’s uniform. The sun was too hot for it. He wore his sleek gray trousers but only his white t-shirt that was normally hidden underneath. People took a second to recognize him.

You didn't. You recognized him right away, your hands wrung in worry. You were not expecting to see him.

His eyes were wide as they examined the situation. You had made a table out of old milk crates and a worn table cloth. You had no canapé offering you shade like before so your face was hot and red. There were only a few items. Three plates people could choose from. The cupcake that tipped him, a small cherry pie that was cut into equal pieces, but his eyes stilled at the sight of his apology brownies.

Chocolate and macadamia. An ode to a moment of softness they shared now in the mouth of others.

"Would you take a handful of mint?" The man asked.

You had no change to give the man so you were trying to haggle.

As far as Coriolanus was concerned everything at that table was his.

He rushed over, yanking the bag out of the mans hands and giving him a harsh shove away. He only takes one look at the Commander and runs away with his mint.

You look around at the crowd. You were worried about their approval at this time?

He felt his blood run hot. He had told you no, he would look after you, and here you were selling what was his.

"Pack up your things" he said coldly.

"I have a permit until 2." You reach into your basket to show him but he grabs your wrist before you could fully turn away.

"Pack it up now." he seethes. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. If he shouted at you, you would freeze.

Your wrist buckled under his pressure, and you nodded your head.

He doesn't let go even as you pack your cakes into your basket with one hand. He helps put them in quickly and without care.

He takes the handle as you put the last cupcake in and yanks you back through the crowd. You stumble behind him from his quick pace and he pulls you every time you falter.

"What were you thinking?" He demands to know. Talking freely away from the market.

"I told you. It wasn't enough. I need money".

"So instead of asking me for money, you did the one thing I told you you couldn't do?".

He tugs you impatiently forward, "Hurry up".

"I am sorry. Please let go of me. You're hurting me".

He continues to yank you along, spotting an alleyway between two buildings. Traffic was light and people avoided the peacekeeper with the gun as he made way. He takes you until you hit the back brick wall of the alleyway.

With one final push he releases you to the wall and lets go of your wrist. He drops the basket by his feet and unloads his rifle by cocking it so no accidental discharge or rebel shooting could happen. He drops it alongside the basket, and comes up in front of you.

You try to defuse him by placing a hand on his neck but he knocks it away. You weren't going to get off easy this time.

He digs into your little satchel that you carried across your chest, looking for the money earnt.

You take his wrist into your hands but make no real attempt to stop him.

''You want to earn this back?" He holds out the few measly coins in front of you, "get on your knees then".

He wasn't particularly hard but he felt like he had lost significant control over you. If you couldn't take the hint, he was going to show you how you were to earn money.

You shake your head no. More disobedience from a girl who only ate because he fed her.

He gripped your shoulder harshly and spun you into the wall. Using one hand pressed between your shoulder blades, he uses the other to take his cuffs off his belt and attach them to your wrists.

He spins you back around but you still don't move, causing Coriolanus to push down on your shoulder.

He gets you eventually to the ground where you struggle underneath him. He places the coins in his pocket.

"Don't" You beg but he works on undoing his pants.

"You want to earn money, right?" he frees himself and holds it out for you, "Then earn it."

Your eyes were not focused on him but at the passing traffic. You were too far in to be noticed by passing goers but It would only take one wrong turn and they would come across your situation.

Irritated at your lack of focus, Coriolanus takes your jaw in his hand and guides it to his cock.

What choice did you really have? Cuffed and on your knees with no one around to help. Not that they would.

Gingerly you do place your lips around him but hating the taste you pull back. He slaps you firmly across the face, just as your bruise had healed. He didn't hit you as hard as he did that day on the hill. That was a proper slap. These were just warnings.

"Spoilt aren't you?" He takes hold of the top of your head and leads it back to him.

He pushes too far, hitting your gag reflex, and you pull back again only to be met with another slap across your cheek.

He gives you another go. You can only take half of him comfortably. It was your first time and yet he expected you to be a well-versed whore. You gag around him and he lets you pull back but not off, before shoving it back in.

You gag again, and loosen your lips, letting the excess moisture drip from your lips. He slaps you harshly again. Your whimper as he drives his cock back to your throat.

His hips rock forward into you, causing you to choke. You pull back, certain that you were going to be heard as you regained your air.

He lets you gasp for air, you spit next to his shoe but don't receive a punishment. Two light taps against your cheek and you're pulled back again.

Your teeth graze gently down as you struggle for air and he lets out an annoyed groan.

Seeing you struggle, he pulls back, letting you regain your breath and lose some more spit from your mouth. He pulls you to his balls, letting you just hold them in your mouth as you control your breathing. You can hear the blood rush to your ears, surrounding you with your own accelerated heart beat.

Another slap against your cheek tells you it's time to go again.

"Come on," he urges, leading your mouth back to him with a tug at your hair.

"Come on, pretty thing, show me what you got."

He rocks into you, hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes spike with tears, and you struggle to pull back as he keeps you there with his hands twisted in your hair.

You hear your chain rattle as you pull it every time he rocks himself into you.

He pulls your head back to his tip and then slowly back again, showing you how to do it. You gag around him and he holds himself still at that pace allowing you to adjust before continuing.

He takes you to the base holding you there. You don't struggle, trying to focus on breathing through your nose. He shakes your head side to side before continuing to drive his length.

You try to pull away again after a particularly hard drive but he stomps a foot beside you and follows your head back.

You were a whimpping mess on the floor. Every time his cock gave you room to you whined.

He turns your head against his thigh, letting it rest there with half his length in your mouth. A deadly smile cuts across his face, as he lays two harsh slaps against your cheek.

He pushes all the way in, laying you at the base again. He moves his body as you move yours so there was not a moment's rest.

He pulls you back upright to rock his hips harder.

As he comes, he pulls you forward on his cock. The warm liquid shoots down your throat.

You try to pull back, not wanting to swallow it. He groans loudly, still holding you in place. Even after he was done, he kept you there as he rested his head on the wall behind you.

He regains control of himself again, readying himself and picking up his gun and the basket. Only then does he collect you.

He helps you up by the arm to your feet. You ask him to uncuff you but he doesn't, leading you out of the alleyway and back home with the grip on your arm.

You complain the whole way. Begging him to release you so you could walk properly. You were worried Edmund would see you in such a state.

Coriolanus is deaf to your pleas. He makes no indication that he could hear you as he walked. He didn't look at you, only at the road ahead. He made no demand that you be silent or show displeasure upon his stone face.

When you do reach home, he marches you to the door, only letting go of your arm so he could unzip your bag, dropping your basket at the door.

He searches in your bag again for your home key, unlocking the door and shoving you inside. He still does not free you from the cuffs, instead leading you to your dining room table.

He pushes you down once more on the floor and kneels behind you, only undoing one cuff and reattaching it to the slim table leg.

'What are you doing?." You tug at the chain.

"Stay put." he spat as he headed to the door.

"What about my mother. She needs her morphling soon."

He slams the door, relocking it. It wouldn't keep you in if you could get to the door but would keep others out.

"Coriolanus, please!" he could hear you scream but it was muffled by the door. He picks up your basket, taking it with him.

He eats all the cakes on his walk back to the compound making him feel sick. But they were his.

He comes back later at night.

"My mother" you say as soon as you see him.

She was calling out for you. Screaming to be more accurate, he needs her to be silent after his long day so he walks past you on the floor and enters her room.

She was still on her stomach unable to get up without help. He sees now that the whip marks reach her legs. Some had reopened again as she attempted to rise. You would need to clean and redress them, but only after he was done with you.

She turns her head weakly in the dark room.

"Where's my daughter?"

He kneels by the bed and unscrews a bottle of morphling from his pocket.

"She's in the living room" he answers.

"Is she alright?"

"Fine." He tries to push the bottle through her lips but the mother resists.

"Bring her too me. I want to see her".

Your mother weekly attempts to get up but is forced down from the pain.

"She's busy at the moment." He again tries to force the bottle to her lips.

Your mother instead chooses to shout your name.

Coriolanus places a hand on your mothers back and presses down. He could feel the blood rising under his fingertips.

Your name turns into a scream and Coriolanus whispers in your mothers ear.

"Take your medicine and go to sleep."

He forces it one last time to her lips, this time she drinks it.

Once passed out and ensured to make no more noise, Coriolanus wipes the blood on the bedsheet and returns to the living room.

You try to get up as much as you can upon seeing him, but it is only a squat on the floor.

"Is she ok? i heard screaming?". You sounded worried. Your voice is a little shaky.

“She's asleep." He grabs the chair closest to you, angling it so you would be between his legs as he sat.

You sit back down on your knees and peer up at him. His face had not changed from the marketplace hours ago. His sharp features were stone on his face. His jaw was clenched, showcasing its sharp cut.

"You disappointed me today," he finally said.

“I know," you say, the chain rattling as you move closer, "I am sorry."

Your body ached from being sat on the floor all day, you wanted nothing more than to get up and check on your mother.

So you appealed to his softer side by resting your head against his thigh. He reciprocates by laying a warm hand on your cheek, it was slightly sticky and a familiar metallic smell lingered.

''Make a list of the things you need the money for and I'll get them for you".

A slight brush of his thumb left a wet patch of your mother's blood on your face. He did it again just to get rid of the smear.

You nod your head against his thigh. It would come at a price of course. Something he could hold over your head and withdraw as he pleases.

Your leg tingled from the lack of blood supply. It was a good sign as you had lost feeling of your legs in the late afternoon.

"Are you hungry? You've had a big day. Let me make you something".

God, you needed to get up from this floor.

He stops holding your cheek, digging into his pocket and pulling out the key. You lean back as he leans down to uncuff you.

You stand, your dead legs buckle as you applied pressure. He caught you as you went down and places you in his chair.

He tells you to sit for a bit. To let the feeling come back to your legs before you tried to walk on them.

You sit stretch your legs for a bit, feeling better as the painful tingling fades and return to your feet.

He follows you as you go to the kitchen, watching you pull things out of the fridge.

Tigris used to make his meals after long days at the school library. This felt so similar, he wanted to cry. He had gotten used to long days ending with returning back to his commander apartment to nothing by silence.

He would strip down and just fall asleep on his bed. Now as the smell of your cooking invaded his nose, he felt cared for again. A loving hand was preparing his food, and he would sleep with a full stomach.

''I taught a boy how to shoot today," he leans next to where you chopped an onion.

"I've personally always preferred when peacekeepers don't know how to shoot."

He straightened up off the counter top, you had put him back on defense.

"No one is going to shoot you."

"I know. I am only joking." you place the chopped onion in a frypan, and move on to dicing a pepper. Your sore wrist screams.

His hips go back to leaning on the counter top. You're relieved to see it, as your wrist was a painful reminder of his temper.

''There's nothing to worry about with this one anyway. He couldn't shoot you if you were standing a foot in front of him."

You smile at him as he attempts to make a joke. You even tried to laugh but the sound wouldn't make its way up. It was weighed down by your anxiety.

You drop your knife as you move your wrist the wrong way. Pain shoots through your arm.

You let out a sound of pain, trying to massage the kink out of your hand but the job is taken over by Coriolanus.

"Are you alright?".

You wanted to spit at him but the words that came out were reassuring. You asked him to get the eggs out of the fridge.

He moves quickly to do so. You only had two eggs and half a bottle of milk left in the fridge so he found them easily.

He cracks them into the fry pan for you, disregarding the shells on the counter. You continue to make his omelet with your other hand.

It broke apart as you flipped it weakly in the pan. You apologize as he takes over, flipping the pan on a plate.

He asks if you were alright again as he leads you to the kitchen table.

"Still stiff," you answer.

You both sit at the table and Coriolanus offers you one of the two forks. You take one starving and share the omelet with him.

You feel him glance at you as you eat.

"I have tomorrow off. I thought I might stay the night".

Was this it? He didn't bring a box, maybe he was going in for the kill.

Maybe the Capital promise was something he said to throw you off guard, letting you warm up to him a bit.

It was for the best you decided. Edmund was around to help you heal and care for your mother.

"I think that's a good idea." you state, forking another piece.

He looks up, surprised at your welcoming nature. He leaves you the rest of the omelet, getting up and going to your kitchen to retrieve an ice pack.

He sits back down and presses it against your cheek.

"You may have thought I was harsh today."

An understatement, you believe.

"But where I am from, women who belong to men don't work".

The capital seems more barbaric than the districts. They hide behind their new technology, but socially they were centuries behind.

"If a woman returns to work, it marks the end of a relationship. It shows she doesn't trust him to take care of her. It's the biggest insult a woman could give another capital citizen."

You wanted to remind him that here in District 12, where you currently were, working only meant that food would be on the table by the end of the week.

But he doesn't stop talking to give you a chance.

''And you trust me, don't you? To take care of you."

"Of course," you answer. Your eyes were wide with fear, he could see it.

He takes the ice pack off and kisses you. You stay still, unable to move your lips back.

"No more market stall, yeah?" he is two inches from your face. You were sure he could see your lips quiver.

You shake your head no, earning a smile.

"I am doing a good job, aren't I?" he pushes.

"Yes, Coriolanus. Thank you."

You wished Edmund was here.

Another kiss and you push him gently back.

"i am so tired" you quake, "I still have to clean up and check on my mother".

You rise and he rises with you, taking the plate you picked up.

"I'll clean up. You tend to your mother." he offers.

Dirty dishes don't scare him. He saw mountains of them during his early days as a peacekeeper. He actually got quite good at them.

You accept the offer, rushing down the hall to your mother.

You gasp as you see rivulets of blood across your mother's back. She must have been desperate to get to you, you thought.

Her back looked unbelievably sore. It was your fault. You had hit him and set off this chain reaction. You had fought with him that night and she had to intervene.

And it was all for nothing. Soon you would lay down and let him take what you fought to keep.

You grab a bucket of cold water, a rag and some wound dressing and bandages from the bathroom. You could hear him cleaning the kitchen as you crossed the hallway.

Your eyes fazed with tears as you cleaned the blood off your mothers back. The water turned red, staining your hands. You had to stop upon seeing it. The tears on your mother's back wouldn't help.

You stood over her crying as Coriolanus entered the room.

"Oh mum," you cry. He takes the bandages off you, doing the work himself. You take a seat on the bed, holding your mothers foot as he works.

He layered the bandages with the wound dressing and laid them in the direction of the whip marks. It takes him five minutes before it is done, and he places the leftover items on the floor, keeping the bucket and rag.

He takes you with bloody hands into the bathroom, placing you in front of him at the sink and runs your hands under the water. He sets the bucket down and rubs away the blood from your hands with his.

He leaves you with your hands running under the tap as he tips the water down the drain. You want to thank him for doing it for you but you can't.

He comes back, turning off the tap, resting his chin on your shoulder.

''Let's go to bed." he suggests.

Let's get this over with, you agree mentally.

"Where's your toothbrush?"

You pull it down, holding it out for him. He could see the paste next to where you took it from and he lays it on.

You figured he would like to kiss someone with nice breath so you scrub your teeth clean and rinse.

He takes your toothbrush off of you and uses it in the same manner. It doesn't bother you, you had his dick in your mouth at lunchtime, what's sharing a toothbrush in comparison.

Finishing, he takes your hand and leads you into the bedroom.

You don't undress, just lay down on your back, watching him undress down to his underpants.

"Is this okay?" he paused, taking his pants off from around his ankles to ask.

You assume he means undressing himself, taking the job away from you, so you nod your head.

He kicks his pants in the corner and his shirt follows.

You wait patiently. If he wanted you to be fully undressed, he would have to do it. You hoped he would just hike up your dress.

You breathe hitches as he crawls on top of you, bringing himself to your eye level.

"Did you want to change?" he holds up your night dress that he took off your broken chair.

Why would you get changed if he was only going to take it back off? Was he true to his word, did he not want to sleep with you yet?

You take the night dress and he rolls off of you allowing you to get up. Stiffly, you do and walk to the bathroom to change. It still smelt of blood and you were quick to get out of there again.

There was no hunger in his eyes as he held out his arms to you. Only a tiredness that you shared. It calmed you immensely. Not tonight. You weren't as ready as you thought.

You lay on your side with your back facing him and he spoons his body around yours.

He takes your wrist into his hand and gently rubs down along it, trying to ease the tightness from being locked up all day. You fall asleep before it stops.

He has the nightmare again. Back in the woods with his gun. BANG.

The rebel goes down. He stalks towards her but this time he hears your voice calling out to him, "Coriolanus."

He points his gun in the sound of your direction and calls out for you to come to him.

"Commander." you call him.

"Coryo!" Sejanus's voice sounded close to yours. It panics Coriolanus. He was dead, you were not. Your voices should not be coming from the same direction.

"Where are you?" he screams. He walks in the direction he thinks the sounds were coming from but the Mockingjays scramble Sejanus's 'Coryo', disorienting the sound.

"Commander, please!" Your voice was loud and he took off running to it before it got lost. Pushing through the forest to where he hoped you would be, he came before Lucy Gray with a hole in her throat.

"Wake up." Lucy Gray opened her mouth but your voice came out.

He yelps as he awakens. He feels a cool rag against his forehead.

"Hey," you greet. When he first started to wiggle and sweat you left him. He deserved bad dreams.

But the worse he became, the more you began to worry. Soon your compassion overtook you and you were tending to him without a thought in your head.

"It was just a dream." you wipe more sweat off his head with your cool rag.

He looked pale and sick. You thought he might have caught something, but his wide, scared eyes told you that he had seen something in his sleep.

You run the wet rag down his neck to his shoulders, trying to cool him down.

He falls into you, laying down on your chest as you move the rag across him. You could feel his heavy breathing against you.

With his arm hooked around you, you had limited movement. You wiggle trying to get back to the bathroom to rewet the towel, but he grips your arm, pulling you closer.

“It was just a dream,” you tell him.

It wasn’t, not really.

His mother used to run her finger through his curls until he fell back asleep. But much like her, they were long gone.

His weight kept you pressed down on the mattress with your hand trapped wedged between your body and his.

Similar to his mother, you run your fingers up and down his neck. He stretches it to give you more roaming space and you turn off the lamp, sure you could get him back to sleep.

He was still so hot. Sweat ran down him and onto you. You ran the rag up his face to cool him. Repeating the action of dragging the rag up and your fingers down, you feel him settle beneath you.

He lays a kiss just above where his head rested on your chest. Then his breathing evened, you counted the seconds between his little huffs of air. They patterned at five seconds apart and you feel safe enough to pull away.

You wiggle from beneath him slowly as you lower yourself to the floor. You hit it and he twitches but doesn’t wake.

Laying your head on the hard floor board you watch as his hand laying over the bed reaches for something. As if he knew in his sleep where you were.

You don’t fall asleep for a long time. Your cheek ached from where he assaulted it repeatedly.

Your mind raced with thoughts. How long would he drag this out for. You had been caught. You were caught! Hurry up and take a bite. So long as he remained around, you wouldn’t be able to see Edmund. It would be too dangerous for him.

He had cornered you in every aspect of your life. Even as you slept he remained over you. You wanted it to be over already so you could return to your life. But his appetite was insatiable.

Every time you gave an inch to fill his need, he took a mile. How much more before you had no more kindness to give?

Your eyes close and you sleep, remaining aware that you had to wake up before him.

The sunlight streaming through your window was a mercy as it woke you before him.

You try to quietly get back into bed with him, but wake him in the process.

He groans and holds your hips tightly. It was his day off, he didn’t have to get up early.

You sigh. At least he thought you were getting up and not getting back in .

Now rising to avoid suspension, you get out of his weak hold.

“I have to check on mum,” you tell him.

He doesn’t raise his head from the pillow or open his eyes as he huffs.

You stop by the bathroom to relieve yourself and dress back in proper clothes. You put back on your dress from last night, ensuring the buttons from the bottom to the top were all done up.

The smell of blood no longer lingered. You could stand to take the time to brush your hair in it.

You hoped he wouldn't stay long today but knew he was going to.

After last night, you would focus more on your mother today. It looked like a lot of her scars had opened back up again.

You had to take a look to see if any were infected. It was a higher risk now due to the prolonged morphling dosage.

You turn to her room to see a closed door. You never close your mothers door in case she needs you in the middle of the night. Maybe Coriolanus closed it on his way out.

You turn the handle, double taking when you see two figures on the bed.

You almost scream upon seeing him sitting next to your mother. Had he seen you with the Commander in bed? You wanted the earth to open and swallow you whole.

“Edmund- I didn’t”

“I saw you on the floor,” his voice didn't carry relief but an uncharacteristically hard tone.

“A little scuffed up you said?” he places a hand on your sleeping mother’s head.

“She’s okay. The morphine keeps the pain away and there’s no sign of infection.”

“I could go in there and kill him while he sleeps. No one would know. Bury him outside the fence line. Who would look?”

You knew he was serious from the look on his face.

“You would kill me too. If he went missing I would be the first to hang.”

He knows it too. You watch him swallow his rage and it goes down as a lump in his throat.

“You need to leave.”

“I am not going anywhere while he is in the house.”

“If he catches you here-” you begin but stop. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

You freeze as you hear Coriolanus call out for you. He was up.

You yank Edmund up and push him to your mother’s standing cupboard. He goes willingly, hiding in the cramped space.

You got him there just in time.

Coriolanus opens the door to check on you.

He had put back on his uniform pants and shirt. You were grateful that a near naked Coriolanus was not present under Edmunds watchful eye..

"Are you alright?" he asks.

You rush to the door, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him slightly back.

''Fine. I don't want to wake her".

You push him outside the door and shut it behind you. He looks tired, and still pale from last night.

"Darling, she had two ounces of Morphling less than 12 hours ago. She wouldn't wake up if the house was on fire."

He pushes past you and opens the door again. He looks around the room. His steps are slow as he circles the space around your mother.

"So what is it in here you don't want me to see?"

You freeze. Don't come out, you silently beg.

"Nothing. It's my mother's room that's all. She wouldn't want you in here".

His eyes peered down at the sleeping lady, but his hand reached higher to the metal plates stacked on the bedside. He pushed one side of the stack and a plate went flying to the floor, making an awful clanging sound.

You eyes shoot to the cupboard, Edmund doesn't fling himself out for a fight. He was too smart for it. Your eyes return to Coriolanus who bent down to pick up the plate from the floor.

"You're right," he says, 'let's go. We can spend some of those coins you earnt yesterday on breakfast."

Earnt had a different meaning to Coriolanus then what it did to Edmund. You were so glad he left before the commander showed up.

You were glad too that Coriolanus suggested leaving the house. It would give Edmund a chance to escape.

But you knew he would wait. Edmund could hold a grudge like no one else. He would sit in with your mother all day and stew.

He couldn't be trusted to hold his temper if you returned with Coriolanus. It would also be too much to bear. Having him listening in as you played puppet with Coriolanus.

You wait until you reach the living room to talk so Edmund wouldn't hear where you were going and follow.

"I know a place. A little waterfall just out of town," you suggested, " We could spend the day there. Out of the heat."

"What about your mother?"

You knew Edmund would tend to her.

"I'll leave a bottle of morphling within her reach. An apple, a bottle of water. It's all I normally give her until dinner time."

His eyes roam you distrustfully, but make their way back to your face with his normal icy stare.

"Whatever you want." he concedes.

You dash around your home packing your basket while Coriolanus laces his shoes. An old blanket, two bottles of water in heavy metal flasks, and sun protection is all you pack.

Coriolanus holds his hand out for it once you were done, and you give in. You yank your boots on as he holds the basket, waiting.

All you had to do was lay a care package for your mother. You act as if kicked your boot accidently against the door as you take it to her.

Edmund either took the warning or never came out of the closet at all.

"Mum" you call to the unconscious women, "I am going out, and won't be home until late. Here's your morphling that you'll need when you wake up soon. Make sure you eat your apple before you take it".

You place the items on the bedside table for Edmund, giving one final look to the cupboard door before shutting the door and walking back to Coriolanus.

He was waiting by an open door, watching you as you came to him.

You don't touch the door, but it closes and you lock it with Coriolanus standing over you.

You walk in silence along the road to the town center. You pass the alleyway that will now forever cause you to shiver.

The walk was quiet. Most people were already at their jobs at this time. But as you enter the town square, the hustle began to pick up.

You could feel the town people's stares, hear their quiet whispering as you passed with Coriolanus in tow.

He begins talking to you asking you where you wanted to go first.

The bakery, you answered. You let him lead, trying to fall out of step with him.

He notices that you do almost immediately. He lasso his arm around your shoulders to keep pace. It felt like he was leading you around town on a leash.

The bakery is only small. It had aged terribly but retained some of its charm. You never went in there, always baking your own things.

It could only fit five people in at a time but it didn't matter, you two were the only ones there. You take a look at the glass display counter. Their cakes were small and barely had any icing. You could tell they were over-cooked from how they sat. No wonder your stall was so popular.

"Commander Snow, sir!"

Your eyes rise abruptly at the voice. The women from the market now serves you. The lips that casted judgment now smile sweetly at Coriolanus.

"We'll take two rolls of grain" he remarks, like talking to her was painful.

You cringe at the usage of ‘we’.

"Of course, sir," she wraps the bread up and passes it over the counter. He takes it, putting the fresh loafs in the basket.

''Free of charge of course. Can't thank you enough for cleaning up these streets for us right living folks".

Coriolanus doesn't buy the act. His face hardens as he digs into his pocket and throws a coin on the counter for her.

He tugs your arm gently to get you to retrace back to the door. You follow eagerly. You hoped she would mention how you whored yourself out for him so you could mention this encounter.

''Where to next?".

You barely heard him over your rage.

"The butcher. He's next door to the fruit and vegetables stall. Maybe I could get the meat and cheese, and you could get some peaches if there are enough coins."

"Are we in a rush?"

"No". ‘I just don't want to be seen with you’ is the unspoken end of that sentence.

"Then we'll go together. The waterfall won't float away will it?"

Today you would be stuck at his hip.

He holds the butcher’s door open for you, and a little bell goes off.

You only glance at the man behind the counter before he disappears.

The butcher takes one look at Coriolanus and takes off through the back door. He runs faster then his short body would let on.

Coriolanus watches him as he runs off. It was his day off, he wasn't chasing anyone.

He passes you the basket so he could jump over the counter and help himself to the meats and cheeses. He grabs a good handful of ham and a few slices of cheese.

“I’ll never understand why they run.”

You hum back in response, but could definitely understand the desire of running.

He jumps back over the counter, places the items in your basket and then takes the basket back off you. Not looking to go without paying, you stop Coriolanus by his arm and in an action that surprised you both, reach into his pocket and pull out his coins.

You leave what you think would cover the costs and keep the rest in your palm. Your touch seemed to have frozen Coriolanus who stood there.

It gave you a chance to distance yourself. You are out the door and next door at the fruit and vegetable stall. You grab the first two peaches you see, not even checking to see if they were ripe.

Giving the man the money and thanking the man for the peaches, you keep your head start, walking quickly through the market.

You remain three feet in from him until you reach the next stall in which Coriolanus had caught up to you and tugged you back.

"How far is the waterfall?" He was always finding new little areas of District 12. He should have made the fence smaller.

"Just past Dead Man's creek".

Coriolanus mentally groaned. Just the walk to Dead Man's creek would take at least 45 minutes over a rocky path.

But once they were there at least they would be alone. Coriolanus was elated not only to be spending the day with you but ecstatic to be away from the district.

You lead him to the back forest of the district, to a rock path that marks the start of the trail to Dead Man's creek.

He takes your hand into his as you begin the walk.

"How do you know about this place?" He tries to make idle talk as you walk.

"My father used to take my brother and me on weekends."

Coriolanus wished he didn't ask.

"I am sorry. How did he die?"

You rip your hand clean from him, and Coriolanus flexes his hand from the lack of touch.

"He died in the mines. A tunnel collapsed, he didn't get out in time."

His hand felt empty so he reached out and plucked a flower off a tree, twirling the stem in his hand.

"I am sorry," he says again, "My father died at a young age too."

"Are you? Most of our materials still go to Capital use".

Coriolanus flicks the flower away. He didn't want to chase people through the streets and he didn't want to talk politics on his day off.

"We all play our part for the betterment of Panem." he says.

"All hail the mighty Capitol."

That attitude would not go down well in the Capitol. He had to get rid of it before he started his presidential journey.

But that's a job for another day. Today they were going to spend a peaceful day at a waterfall.

"All hail the mighty Capitol," he mutters back.

The Capitol chewed him out too. You should be bonding over your shared resilience, not fighting over the Capitol’s use of the districts.

"So are you going to tell me who was in the closet this morning?"

He snapped a branch that was pushing into his shoulder as he walked by your side. He hated nature, and would rather be back in his temperature-controlled apartment with you. But you had wanted to take him to a place you held dear. He would make the effort to please you.

You stumble over your next step. Could he have heard you talking to Edmund? Was his life now in danger?

"When I dropped the plate this morning your eyes went straight there."

You had been tricked by him again. He had dropped the plate to startle you into giving away your secret.

"She's just a friend." You emphasize the 'Sh' in she.

"A friend you keep in the closet?"

"You spooked her. She came over to check on my mother and heard you coming."

"Well I don't bite."

You knew for a fact he did.

"She was afraid. You are Commander Snow of District 12".

He takes your hand back in his, pleased with your answer,

"Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

You knew that did not extend to Edmund. So you keep quiet, allowing him to hold your hand in peace.

It kept him from asking anymore questions at least. He remained for the rest of the trip trapped in his own head, and you remained trapped in yours.

By the time you crossed the creek and continued up to your destination, the waterfall was a well earned sight.

You find the shade of a big tree and smooth the ground from rocks before reaching into the basket and laying the old blanket down.

The laces of the shoes come off and you both plop down, tired from the walk.

Coriolanus lays back, watching as you make the sandwiches. You tear into the bread with your hands and fill it with the meat and cheese.

You pass the first one to him. It tasted like love to him. Your stomach growled too but your hands give before they take. If he could just get your speech right, you would be perfect.

You down your sandwich quickly having little to eat in the past 24 hours. Feeling immensely better as the food fills your stomach, your body brings to attention another need.

You lay down, closing your eyes and letting your body relax into the peaceful atmosphere.

“Tired?" he asks you. You feel him turn to his side towards you.

"Too hot to sleep". You don't mention the ailments to your sleep that he caused.

"You're welcome to sleep in the Commander's quarters with me. Air conditioned, bigger bed. I even have a television that works sometimes."

You turn away from him as you feel his head dip down to you.

"I should stay with mum."

"Maybe once she gets better." He now regrets causing your mother more harm last night. It would delay the healing process.

The cool breeze drifts you to sleep. Coriolanus waits until your breathing slows before he shuffles closer.

He felt a sense of pride as you dozed off. That you trusted him enough to protect you as you slept.

During the war Tigris would stay up during bombings, letting Coriolanus get some sleep. He wouldn't otherwise, too worried that he would miss a warning and be buried underneath rubble.

He shuffles so his body is over yours in a protective stance, his leg slung over you, and his eyes watch around you for nearby ants.

It was a tranquil moment shared while you slept but it lasted less than 20 minutes before you shot up in a panic.

You don't get far with Coriolanus curled around you. Movement only became harder as he squeezed you in his arms.

"You're alright. Go back to sleep". He wasn't ready for the moment to be over but you were, turning his arms off you.

"I shouldn't sleep. No, I shouldn't sleep".

You turn to your back on the blanket and reach up to touch your ring on his dog tags.

You turn the metal between your fingers. You wondered if you begged enough if he would give it back.

He catches your hand and brings it up enough to kiss. You hear the birds chirp as they fly past.

''It's peaceful here," he comments.

"It's my favorite place," you admit.

Coriolanus felt his heart swell with pride. You had taken him to your favorite place because you wanted him to see it, not in actual reality because it was the first place that popped into your head.

He lets you rest while he takes a look out at the scenery.

The water from the rocks cascaded into a plunge pool that looked relatively deep. The water leaked slowly down a stream of rocks away. It was no great waterfall, only about a meter high, and the water followed at a steady pace instead of a gush.

The bank was muddy but opened to a large dry field, surrounded by trees. He was yet to see a mockingjay but he knew from experience that it doesn't mean they are not there.

“It's so hot," you complain, throwing your arm over your eyes.

He turns back to you and fiddles with the buttons on your shirt, twisting your top button between his fingers.

"How about a swim?" he suggests.

You shake your head no but he starts undoing your buttons anyway.

You catch his hands in yours, they only follow him as he undoes the rest. You feel your dress fall off your shoulders as the last button comes undone.

Fear freezes you, your eyes close and your hands lose movement. He doesn't deter, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he takes the dress off completely.

"It will cool you down".

He shifts off you to take his own clothes off. You feel his hands upon you once more picking you up.

The splash of the cold water woke you and as you came up to the surface you pulled free from his hold. You swim away only to be pulled back into his chest.

"Feel better?" he asks. You wiggle against him feeling indecent in only your underwear.

"Where are you going?" he laughs as if it was a joke. As if you were friends playing in the water.

He twists you in his arms so you are facing him and you place your hands on his shoulders to keep up.

"This isn't right." You push against his tight hold.

"No one is around. No one to see," he consoles.

"You can see. You can touch me."

You thrash in his grasp, almost drowning yourself from your struggle.

He tries to reassure you but you won't hear it. Your kicking underwater lands into his soft stomach. With a huff of pain, he releases you and you swim back to shore.

You can hear him following you in the water. Nevertheless you reach land first and run to put on your clothes.

"What is your problem?" He seethes putting back on his pants.

"I can't-can't do this," you said, meaning him.

Without your shoes you take off in the direction of the trail path.

"Wait. Wait" he beseeched, he takes your shoulders into his hands and bends down to your eye level, "I am sorry, okay. I moved too fast. Let's just go back".

He shoves you towards the blanket again. Bringing you down with him on the floor. He removes his hands once he realizes you were frozen again.

Taking a peach out of the basket he puts it into your hands.

"Eat. I’m sorry." He puts back on his t-shirt, only to turn back to see the peach still not eaten.

He sighs, taking a knife from one pocket from his pants. You flinch as it flicks up and he takes the peach back off you, cutting it up.

"It's okay. I am not going to hurt you." He passes you a slice of the peach.

“Then why carry the knife?”

Coriolanus shugs, taking a slice of the peach for himself. “Part of the uniform. Eat”.

The uniform that was designed to kill you and your people. A uniform that gives those who wear it a free reign of terror. It almost whispers to you to know your place.

Your lips shake as they bite into the soft peach slice.

You stay at the waterfall until late afternoon. Coriolanus teaches you how to make a fishing rod and you fish for a large part of the time.

You ask him if he learnt how to fashion a rod from the earth in the Capitol.

"No. Not in the Capitol." He didn't elaborate, quickly changing the subject.

He catches one catfish which you cook and wrap in large leaves to take home, while you catch nothing but rocks.

It's nightfall by the time you reach your house again. Edmund was sure to be gone.

You wait by the steps, waiting for his direction. He makes no move up the stairs leading you to think he wasn't interested in coming in.

"Thank you for walking me home, Commander."

"Thank you for showing me the waterfall. We'll go up there again soon" he promises.

You didn't like the sound of it. It was your strength against him up there.

He passes you your basket and relief floods you knowing he wasn't coming in.

"Goodnight, Commander".

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Next time, invite your friend out of the closet. Don't ever let them lead you to lie to me".

You nod. It appeased him enough to kiss you.

"Goodnight" he bids.

He watches as you run up the steps, only turning to leave once you were safely indoors.

Your relief turns into horror and then just shock causing you to drop your basket at your feet.

Edmund waits for you at the kitchen table with his head resting in his hands.

"I made dinner. It's in the oven."

He must have gone hunting at some point in the day.

"Are you crazy?" you raised your voice as much as you dared, "What if he decided to come in?"

He remains emotionless, "Your mother and I have already eaten."

You make sure the door is locked behind you before you venture over to him.

"You can't come around here until this blows over," you scold.

''I promised your brother I would keep you safe," he sounded defeated but his balled fists suggested it was anger.

"I don't think he meant to kill the Commander of District 12 to do so."

His eyes harden, and his head nods, 'Yes, he did."

You throw your arms around his rigid figure.

"You did good, okay? You are doing good. He wouldn't ask anymore of you."

He scoffs and with little force he moves you off him, “Good? I've been up in the mountains while you've been fighting for your life down here."

"Earning money to support your family. Us. How many times would we have been dead without you? I would have died last year if you didn't give us money for the doctor."

"Maybe I should have let you. At least then you wouldn't be food for the Commander"

"He's really not that bad". You regret the words as soon as they come out.

"You don't think kindly of him do you?" his face contorts with disgust.

You shake your head no. You could never disappoint him. Not after everything he has done for you.

"He is a storm for a season. We've outlasted storms before haven't we? Together."

You lace your fingers with his. His hold is strong and protective.

"After him. No one else," you repeat his words back to him.

If you are to survive him, it will be true.

-------

I put some easter eggs from the book in there. For funises.

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Chapter 7

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Trying to balance good writing with getting out chapters quickly so bare with me!

Content warnings - violence and death, cursing

“It’s a clock!” Katniss exclaims. “Wiress, you’re a genius!”

Katniss explains to the group how the arena works, making you realize that you running into the tribute during the lightning was just a coincidence, and the lightning didn’t always mean danger.

The group decides to go to the cornucopia to survey the arena and test their theory. You would like to grab a weapon but you don’t know if that’s allowed. Katniss already confiscated the arrow she shot you with so all you have is a weak arm and an injured arm.

Finnick walks between you and Peeta, with Katniss behind him. You really need to earn her trust back if you’re going to stay with the group, although, you don’t know how much she trusted you to begin with.

Katniss and Peeta warily eye you as you look through the weapons, trying to find a knife or two. Too many large weapons will just slow you down. You’d rather just have a few knives on you.

“She’s fine,” you hear Finnick tell the pair. “It’s safer for us that she is armed in case we get attacked. She’s already told me she doesn’t want to kill you so I doubt she’ll throw any knives your way. She knows the difference between doing damage in a fight and killing. Just give her space and don’t act so on edge around her. She’s doing her best.”

Katniss lowers her bow but doesn’t make any move to distance herself from you. It seems like the guarding followed you from the capital to the arena.

The group sits down as Peeta draws a map of the arena. Wiress goes down to the water to clean off some wire Beetee got that you assume is for his big smart plan.

“Did you see anything where you went?” Finnick asks you. You shake your head and just point at the lightning Peeta drew on the map.

“Just lightning?” he confirms and you nod your head. Looking at the map, you’re glad you only ended up with lightning. The rest of the jungle looks terrifying.

The group begins chatting about birds in mines when you hear a sudden gasp. You all turn to see Gloss slitting Wiress’ throat. If the capital wanted you to act feral, they were about to get a show.

It happened so fast. Katniss shot Gloss before Johanna threw an axe into Cashmere, killing her instantly. You noticed Brutus and Enobaria going for Finnick and Katniss but you were too far away to stop the knife Enobaria threw from sinking into Finnick thigh. She’s dead.

You charge at her, screaming like a wild animal. She seems ready for your attack, however, and positions herself for your oncoming blow. You collide with her, sending both of you to the ground.

There’s no time to reach for the blade tucked into your belt. You claw at her face, drawing blood, as she attempts to push you off her. She’s successful in rolling the two of you over, putting herself on top. You go to grab for a knife when her teeth sink into your wrist, shooting pain through your whole body. It’s a shock she didn’t bite your whole hand off.

That’s when the cornucopia starts spinning. Enobaria leaps off of you and tries her best to escape with Brutus while the rest of the group is caught off guard by the movement. You clutch onto the rocks with your good arm but you can feel yourself slipping.

Katniss falls off the same time you do, sending both of you into the water. Even with your bad arm, you’re still a better swimmer, so when the water calms you’re able to orient yourself.

You spot Katniss struggling to find the surface a few yards away from you, so you dive back under and swim to her. Bracing yourself for human contact, you grab her arm and start propelling her to the surface. It takes her a second to realize you’re helping, especially with the amount of blood you’re releasing into the water, but she swims with you till you reach air again.

Peeta helps her out of the water, checking to make sure she’s ok. You do your best to pull yourself up but you’re in too much pain. Finnick takes notice and grabs onto you, yanking you onto the rocks.

He doesn’t even have to say what you’re thinking. The bite looks bad. It’s hard to tell if Enobaria punctured the vein in your wrist but you think she did due to the amount it’s bleeding.

“Johanna,” Finnick calls. “Do we have any bandages left?”

“Nope,” she shouts. “The only ones we had went to Volts.”

“Shit,” he mutters, trying to figure out what to do. He uses your knife to cut the arm off your wetsuit, apologizing that he had to cut yours as his was destroyed by the fog. He wraps the fabric tightly around your wrist, trying to stop the bleeding.

“This should work until we can get some sponsors to send us something better,” he states. You shake your head at him. Sponsors wouldn’t send you anything. You were on your own.

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @heytherellala @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #hunger games fic #finnick odair #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair angst #finnick #thg finnick #finnick fluff #catching fire #the feral one

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starstruckgrrl · 5 months

Note

MORE TAMAKI🙏🙏🙏

who am i to deny you 🫡

ꕤ*. synopsis: tamaki doesn’t do so well at hero events, but he’s grounded with you there. not to mention you give him the perfect motivation!

↳ ♡₊˚.warnings: smut, car sex, he says “i love you”, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sub!tamaki, pet names, established relationship, lil bit of edging, cute tamaki naps for aftercare :3

a/n: sorry if the way i capitalize some stuff has changed, i want to make it easier to read!! i really hope you like it, give me some feedback or suggestions pls!!

ever since he’s met you, tamaki has been doing a lot better at handling any event that comes his way. his friends take notice, praising him for sticking around “this long!”

he owes his success to you, who he will often scamper off to. you’re always with him at every event, keeping him grounded and confident(ish).

usually, he’ll take you everywhere with him, making you become his bodyguard against awkward conversations or slightly passive aggressive behavior. however, you know that it is good for him to do some things on his own so he won’t feel so horrible when you’re busy and can’t escort him everywhere.

so the pro-hero Suneater is here, after several minutes of you gently pushing him, at a table with Deku, Dynamight, Lemillion, Red Riot, Nejire Chan, and a few other names from high school. while he does feel much better that nejire and mirio are there with him, the potential comfort he might have had is ruined when everyone delves into questions about his personal life.

tamaki mentally curses mirio, who asks first, “Suneater! i haven’t met that girl you’ve been parading around yet? when will i get to meet her?”

“her name is ——, and you can meet her soon, i guess? she said she would follow me over soon.” tamaki replied.

“she’s very nice, Lemillion! i met her once while getting a drink at an event a week or so ago, and she was nothing but kind!” Deku shot out, happy to have met a nice person.

nejire never passes up an opportunity to talk about something happy, so she began her rambling, “she’s so preeeetty! can you ask her about what products she uses in her hair? does she have extensions? does she wear wigs? if so, where does she get such natural ones?”

the indigo-haired hero you cherished began to sink in his seat, visibly overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions that had begun after the mention of his date, but felt better when he felt your hand pat him on the shoulder.

“hi, baby. are you doing okay?” you asked, loud enough for people sitting near him to hear, but to him nonetheless.

he began to sit up in his seat, the pet name being comforting enough to help him regain some composure, “yes, i’m okay, how are you?”

you gave him a small smile as you sat in your spot next to him, confirming that you were feeling alright.

mirio was the first to speak to you, “are you ——?! i’ve heard so much about you!! well, pieces about you, tamaki is kind of private about your relationship, but pieces nonetheless!!”

“yes, that’s me! it’s lovely to meet tamaki’s best friend!” you replied, recognizing tamaki’s description of his grade-school friend.

“AWWW, Suneater, you’ve told her about me!” mirio shouted.

tamaki smiled up at him, how could he ever think that he wouldn’t tell everyone about the person who motivated him so much?

as the evening went on, you had been asked plenty of questions, mainly by nejire. you had no complaints, as you found everyone thoroughly entertaining and sweet.

the whole time, you were keeping physical contact, even in small ways, with tamaki. it was the best way to make sure he knew you were still there for him and thinking about him, even as you conversed with the others.

over time, your small touches turned into something else. clasping his hand turned into rubbing his thigh, slight pokes turned into tracing soft circles on his bicep. the little things meant the world to this man, so you knew he was getting your idea.

about 3 hours in, tamaki’s social battery had been completely sucked dry. he gave you a special look and squeezed your hand twice to let you know he wanted to go, a signal the both of you had come up with.

you cleaned up your area at the table, stacking your used dishes neatly for a waiter/waitress to pick up with ease, and stood up. you patted yourself down as your lover stood up, and you all exchanged goodbyes as the both of you walked out, your arm wrapped around his.

the both of you walked out to the car, and tamaki slid his hand down to your waist and pulled you closer. you were stunned, he rarely initiates things, especially in public.

“tama” you cooed in his ear.

tamaki led you to the backseat of the car, opened the door for you, and sat next to you. he kept the door slightly ajar for what he would call “ventilation” when you questioned him later.

you kissed him first, a small but sweet kiss. your partner, however, kissed you again. longer, deeper. he grabbed you and held you close to him, and he leaned against the back of the seat. he began to unzip his pants when you stopped him.

“are you sure, baby?” you asked, knowing his fear of having all eyes on him.

“yes, i love you too much, please.” he replied, asking you to please continue.

you nodded at him, and got on top of him. you gave him kisses on his neck and bit him softly as you pulled down his pants to let his cock spring out.

you flipped up the dress he bought you special for this event, and moved your underwear to the side. tamaki brought his hand down to rub small circles on your clit, getting you wet for him.

you softly pushed his hand away, then brought yourself up, then down onto his dick. he let out a small whimper and you shushed him, “shh, baby, we don’t want anyone to see, do we?”

tamaki swallowed thickly, and stuttered out, “n-no”

“maybe you’d like that, dirty boy.” you teased, and he whined in response.

you bounced up and down softly on him, the friction of the base of his cock teasing your clit.

then, suddenly, you heard voices outside, a mere 10-15 ft away.

“oh, hey, someone’s car door is open. should we close it?” said one of the voices.

tamaki’s eyes widened, but he never stopped bucking up into you, and you never stopped riding him. he whimpered quietly, and you put your thumb in his mouth to silence him.

“nah, let’s just leave it. someone might be coming back to it in just a minute.” said another voice.

the both of you heard their footsteps trail away, and you looked at each other. tamaki leaned up to kiss you, and you could tell he was getting close. he was rutting into you from below, and it made you giggle.

“don’t cum until i say, tama!” you reprimanded.

he nodded quickly, confirming his submission.

you were also getting close, and tamaki always knew that you should cum first. you slammed down onto him harder, making his tip kiss your cervix every time. his cock was rubbing against a sweet spot inside you the deeper you went, and you came with a moan of his name.

as you were going through the aftershocks of your orgasm, tamaki began to beg.

“please, can i cum? please.” he whimpered out, his legs shaking slightly.

you kissed his forehead and gave him permission, and his cock twitched as he finally let go of the orgasm he had been holding. his cum warmed your insides and gave you an extra, satisfying feeling as it began to leak down.

“i’ll drive us back home, sweetheart, you rest. i know you’re tired” you told him as you slowly got up, grabbing a blanket that rested in the back pocket of the car seat, special for any sleepy car rides.

you laid tamaki down in the backseat and covered him in the fluffy blanket. you adjusted his pants and his underwear to make him as comfortable as possible.

you got out, adjusted your dress, and closed the car door. you got into the front seat and turned the car on and the heating up so your partner would be cozy on the ride home.

#anime smut #mha #mha smut #my hero academia #tamaki amajiki smut #sub tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader

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redflagshipwriter · 6 days

Text

Hot Ghouls in Your Area 8

Chapter 8

Masterpost

“You're just now going to campus?” Jazz said. Danny scowled ahead at the sidewalk. Her tone wasn't judgmental so much as mildly surprised. He still hated it. “That's a lot later than usual. Is everything alright?” Danny hunched his shoulders up and consciously reminded himself not to get defensive. He wasn't slacking. He'd gotten home after his class and slept 13 hours. He still felt wiped out.

“Ghost stuff,” he said cryptically. “Ruined my night.” He dodged someone on the sidewalk without thinking about it, used to the crowds by now.

Jazz inhaled sharply into his ear. “They're supposed to leave you alone to focus on your education,” she hissed. “Just so you know, I do have the venomous Fenton electric creep stick-”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny cut her off. She was probably holding it up right now, thumb on the trigger. He couldn't fight off the rueful smile. She had his back, didn't she? Always did. With that in mind… “I think I need help,” he admitted. Oof. Felt bad. Not as bad as failing his classes, though, which was the danger if he got pulled too deep into more Ghost bull honkey.

“Of course!” Jazz enthused. He stepped off the curb and then quick-stepped backwards to avoid getting hit by some asshole running the red light. Danny lifted up his free hand to flip them off as he hung on his heels on the edge of the pavement drop. He dropped lightly back onto the balls of his feet and jogged across the street.

Jazz was still talking, voice clear over the morning meld of honking and running engines. “How about you come over to my place after your classes tonight? My roommate is out for a conference.”

“You just don't want to come to Crime Alley,” Danny accused her. “Even for me, your beloved baby brother.” He dodged a car that was parked on the cross walk and made an ugly face at the driver. “Despite your professed love for crime, when it counts, it's all talk.”

“I don't love crime,” Jazz reiterated with her inhuman patience. She didn't take the bait of his deliberate mischaracterization of her career plans. “But I am exquisitely stabbable." Her tone went lofty with the brag. "So yes, I avoid Crime Alley.”

Danny blew an unimpressed raspberry to show what he thought of that.

He hadn't met anyone in Gotham yet who he thought would really throw Jazz for a loop. She was a 6ft 2 judo black belt, and she was liminally spooky as fuck. “No one would stab you,” he said, making it sound like an insult. His janky ass was more likely to get held up. "But fine, I'll haul my poor broken corpse all the way over there to do you a favor-”

“So I can do you a favor,” Jazz corrected wryly.

“My poor broken corpse,” Danny cut back in, because that was a really relevant factor to him. He put the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned a little. He felt like he'd been in a tumble dryer. Missing a full night of sleep was an insufferable insult to his desperate shoe-string construction of a healthy routine.

“I would so get robbed if I came there,” Jazz argued. “Maybe even kidnapped.” He could all but hear her flip her hair.

He snorted but let her keep her delicate feminine delusions about not being one of the scariest motherfuckers in the crime capital of the country. He wasn't actually worried about her interning at Arkham Asylum. Maybe he'd freaked out a little when she'd moved here, but that wasn't why he was here. No matter what anyone said.

“There's no immediate danger, right?” Jazz checked. “No reason I need to be concerned today?”

“Nah,” Danny reassured her, as the campus came into sight. He had about an hour before class to spend in the lab before his lecture. “It's not that kind of problem.” He felt his face arranged itself into a wry smile. “You might like this one.”

“Oh?” Jazz asked, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Only after I've sworn you to perfect silence,” Danny shot back instantly. “I mean it, for real, you can't tell a soul living or dead or nonliving or-”

“I think I get it,” she cut him off. Jazz huffed. “As if I can't keep a secret. You think I can't keep secrets? I know the most incredible things that you could never dream up.”

“...Big if true,” Danny snarked, pretending that he wasn't extremely interested.

“You never knew what happened to the Robinsons,” Jazz said airily. “And you never will.”

“...that doesn't bother me at all,” Danny lied. He stopped walking.

“Ahuh,” Jazz said knowingly. “Hey, remember the neon cheese incident?”

Danny gritted his teeth. “Can't say I do,” he said. It was bullshit, and even he knew it wasn't convincing Jazz. He was dying to know the truth. It had been the talk of the town for weeks and was still occasionally featured on unsolved mystery podcasts. He'd gone far enough to ask the Dairy King, but even the dead wouldn't speak on it.

“Have a good day of classes, little brother,” Jazz said sweetly. She ended the call.

He rubbed at his temples. Ancients, she gave him a headache. She was fantastic. She was killing him and absolutely ruining his unlife. He couldn't even beg her for answers about the neon cheese, because if he managed to badger it out of her, it would prove she could be manipulated into telling secrets. That would be a loss anyway. It was more likely that either she didn't know anything or that she knew and her lips would stay sealed: Danny didn't have any to waste his breath.

He did a few calming rounds of breathing, now that he was thinking about it, and then went on with his day a bit invigorated by the familial aggravation.

Danny felt a little better about focusing on class now that he knew he could count on Jazz in his corner. She was the smartest person he knew. She could probably get him divorced by the end of the day. Hell, she probably already had a contingency plan for getting him a divorce. She was so ready for him to have a relationship so that he would have relationship problems to ask her about.

When he finished up on campus, Danny cut across town to pick up takeout food as an offering. He presented it to Jazz as soon as she opened the door, head bowed and food theatrically high.

“Oh, come in,” Jazz said, exasperated. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and bodily pulled him inside. “My neighbors are going to think I'm so weird, Danny!”

“My liege,” he intoned seriously. “I come bearing- ow! Stop hitting my- hey, my face!” Danny wrestled away from the horrible pinching grip his terrible sister had on his cheeks, scowling. “That hurt,” he complained. “Have you ever thought that you're getting caught up in the cycle of violence?”

“I don't lose sleep over it.” Jazz lowered herself delicately onto one of the weird puffs she had instead of chairs and made grabby hands at the takeout. “What did you get me?”

“Coal,” Danny snarked. But he handed over the bag without a fight and plopped himself onto the closest poof thing. He fully laid out and let his head flop past the edge to hang upside down.

“Inversion therapy, so chic,” Jazz said absently.

He considered flipping her off, but his balance was really off in this position and it would be hard to defend himself if she lunged at him. Hell, if she picked up his legs he'd probably tip over onto the floor. Danny dug his heels into the side of the poof in defensive preparation. He kept her in his peripheral vision.

“Oh, Malaysian,” Jazz enthused. “I wanted to have this!” She sounded a little too surprised.

He shot her a thumbs up. Two days ago, she'd sent him a screenshot of a text landing from someone else that had shown most of her screen was the active map app she was using to get to an appointment. The Malaysian restaurant had the star mark that she put on the places that she wanted to try.

He'd gambled that she hadn't gone yet because she hadn't had a late night at work. Jazz only got takeout with company or if she got home too late to cook.

“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn't want his rotten sister to think he cared about her interests. “It was on the way and it smelled good.”

Jazz hummed and put the food on the side table. “So I see.” She folded her fingers in front of her face and peered at him over the steeple. “What happened? What ghost do I need to soup with a fragrant combination of turmeric and saffron?”

“Please don't waste that, ghosts taste fine on their own,” Danny said.

Jazz grimaced. “Ew, Danny,” she enunciated carefully. She paused. “Ew.”

He shrugged and accidentally slipped a little closer to the floor. “Just saying. But actually, no one dead was involved, unless we count-”

“We don't count,” Jazz cut him off, serenely unbothered by his attempts to score empathy points off his death. She was a cold customer.

“Boo,” Danny said, because he knew his brand and respected ghost tradition. “Anyway, Jeremy Waters. Remember -”

“How could I forget,” Jazz muttered. She put her hands on her face.

“Hey,” Danny said, offended that Jeremy got that reaction and he got a big fat impassive nothing no matter how annoying he was.

“What’s Jeremy done?” Jazz sounded exhausted by the concept.

“Well… He uh.” Danny stared at the ceiling. He couldn't look at her directly. “Well. You know how he wants the good favor of the god of the underworld?”

“Yup.” Jazz hit the ‘p’ sound hard.

“He uh, hit the idea that uh. Maybe a Persephone of sorts was just the thing to suck up.”

He heard fabric rustle as Jazz sat up. “He did?”

Wow, she had one of the most fascinating ceilings in the world. Danny stared intently up at a splotch that looked vaguely malign. She ought to get that checked out by an expert before it possessed somebody. “Yeah, so he's been trying to vault people into the Ghost Zone as bridal sacrifices.”

“Ahuh.” Jazz sounded a little bit choked up. She wasn't laughing, so he couldn't complain.

“I had Dani get Vlad look into it-” because Dad or Mom would have been mortifying- “and apparently, he told her the odds of some hack wizard managing to send a living human to the ghost zone was laughable.”

He paused. He couldn't go on.

“And Vlad would know,” Jazz said leadingly.

Danny put a hand over his face. “Yeah, see, the thing is that I'm now very concerned that Vlad might not know.” His words came out muffled.

Jazz was so intent on him. He pretended even harder not to know she was leaning in towards him. “Does- does the ghost king have a bride, Danny?” She somehow managed in a professional tone.

He nodded miserably.

She promptly lost her shit laughing at his misfortune.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dc fanfic

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 8 months

Note

Hey, I was wondering if your asks were open? If so, could it be possible to get bucky x reader oneshot or something with a reader who sprained/broke their wrist pretty bad? I sprained my wrist pretty bad and need a little something to cheer me up.

Doctor's Order (1)

Summary: Y/N sprains her wrist; Bucky is the only Avenger to understand.

Rating: Everyone

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 800+

A/N: Not Beta’d. To the person who requested this, get well soon!

Part 1

“It’s not that bad.”

“It happens to everyone.”

Those were the phrases used by the Avengers to console Y/N. It was ironic coming from the enhanced bunch. To an ordinary person, it was that bad and it didn’t happen to everyone. Especially not to the overly experienced enhanced Avengers telling her otherwise.

Who would have thought that bracing a fall could seal someone’s fate for months. Bedridden on a grade 3 wrist sprain wasn’t ideal but it was necessary. Y/N had been restless, eager to use both hands again, to feel normal again. Instead, Y/N’s wrist was bandaged lying limply at her side.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Sighing, Y/N used her free hand to mute the television. Her day had been filled with non-stop visits from the Avengers but none of them understood. They couldn’t understand something they hadn’t experienced. She’d rather be left alone. Attempting to push herself up, a lightning bolt of pain shot through her wrist and Y/N was once again reminded of the helplessness she felt.

No sooner than the yelp escaped Y/N’s lips did the door open.

Clutching her wrist to her chest, Y/N whispered, “Please just leave me alone. You don’t know how it feels-” Her voice caught in her throat when her eyes met concerned cerulean orbs. If anyone knew what she was feeling, it was Bucky Barnes.

Slipping through the crack in the door, Bucky crossed the bedroom with a yellow smiley face floating above him.

“It's from the team,” Bucky announced awkwardly, tying the balloon to the bedpost.

“Oh.”

Before Y/N could thank him, his cool Vibranium palm pressed into the center of her back helping her sit up. His flesh hand shoved a pillow behind her to prop her up.

“Thank you,” Y/N muttered. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have leaned on my good arm.”

Bucky stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I know, but you don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

Y/N gnawed at her bottom lip. Guilt swirled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t expected Bucky to be the one to walk through the door. “Listen Bucky, what I said-”

Bucky shrugged. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. The team means well.” Bucky’s eyes suddenly lit up, then he pulled a card from his back pocket. “It’s not much but,” he trailed off with the card extended between his Vibranium fingers. His face scrunched up as his flesh palm slapped the center of his forehead. His fingers made quick work of removing the card from the envelope. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, handing her the card.

Y/N chuckled at his awkwardness. Staring at the front of the card, Y/N smiled at the happy face with the words “Get Well Soon!” printed across it to match the balloon. Written in black ink and all capital letters was the word “You” followed by an arrow pointed to the smiley face. Y/N didn’t need to ask who wrote it. Y/N didn’t understand it, but Bucky always wrote in all caps.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck gauging her reaction as she one handedly opened the card.

The bottom read, “IN MY OUR HEARTS,” followed by a bunch of the Avengers names. Each name was written in all upper-case letters. Rather than calling Bucky out on signing the Avenger’s names, she thanked him.

“You should elevate your arm, keep the swelling down.”

“Thank you, Doctor Barnes,” She mocked.

The super-soldier grinned. “I’ll just let you get back to,” he waved a hand toward the television, “whatever that is. Let me know if you need anything.”

Before Bucky could reach the door, Y/N called out, “Wait.” Bucky turned around. “I could use some company,” she said sheepishly, patting the side of her bed.

Bucky blushed. He raced toward the bed like a dog finally allowed on the furniture. Kicking off his boots, he sat cross legged beside her. His hands respectfully on his knees. Y/N unmuted the TV allowing foreign voices to fill the space. The silence between them was comfortable.

Glancing at the smiley face bobbing at the end of the bed then to Bucky’s upturned palm, she extended her injured wrist lacing her fingers with his. Startled, Bucky’s head snapped over his shoulder to look back at her. She was smiling. The corners of his lips twitched upward. “What are you doin’?”

Averting her eyes back to the screen, she shrugged. “Elevating my wrist.”

The cool contrast of his Vibranium arm acted as ice providing her instant relief but she would never admit it.

Bucky smirked, his Vibranium thumb running feather light circles over her bandage. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

Next Part

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sc0tters · 8 months

Text

My Love, My Life | Jack Hughes

summary: you find out that you are pregnant and when Jack is less than impressed it caused the start of your pregnancy to be a little bit rocky.

request: yes/no

warnings: partially unwanted pregnancy, allusions to sex, swearing.

word count: 4.07k

authors note: when I rewatched Mama Mia I heard the song my love, my life and I instantly knew it had to be the title of a pregnancy imagine. I really did enjoy writing this though so if you guys want to see this possibly become a series, let me know!

It was the longest three minutes of your life.

Jack had gone out on the boat with his friends and brothers giving you what felt like the perfect window of opportunity. All you had to do was pee on that stick and wait for the results.

You knew that you’d have to book and appointment with your gynecologist, not because you were pregnant but because your irregular period that decided it didn’t want to show up for three months. Honestly you thought you were simply one of gods favourites, but as your boobs began to grow tender and keeping any food down before ten a.m. became virtually impossible you began to worry.

Ellen had bought you those tests, not because she wanted you to push yourself into having kids but after you shared your worries with her she suggested you took the test and even offered to buy them for you “you okay in there sweetie?” Ellen asked as she was stood on the other side of the door.

The idea of taking this test alone was simply far too daunting for your little heart to handle thus you asked for her company “I’m good,” you opened the door as you waited for your timer to go off.

She was like the extra mother you never had, your own mother was still in your life but she didn’t get you the way Ellen did. You had laughed, you had cried, and you even got drunk on homemade frozen margaritas with Ellen and that was whilst you and Jack were still friends.

Just as the saying goes mothers do truly know best and Jack’s had predicted that you two would end up married and in love one day. She got the in love part right but despite the four years of dating Jack and being with him through all of the highs and lows of his career there still wasn’t a ring on your finger.

That’s not to say that you didn’t mind though because you both agreed you were too young “it’s time,” the timer derailed your thoughts as both of your heads snapped to the line of four tests.

Both of you walked over to the different branded tests that all said the same thing.

Pregnant

You didn’t want to admit it but you knew exactly when you fell pregnant. The final game of the season was against the Capitals and the moment Jack got home he was met with the sight of you in a new red lingerie that you kept hidden by his jersey. That night Jack didn’t have any condoms and you were too horny to care, apparently the morning after pill did not do it’s job.

As Ellen let out a gasp you could do nothing but cry “oh honey!” She didn’t give you a moment to let a full sob out before she pulled you into a hug.

Her hand went into your hair as she attempted to soothe you “I’m not ready to be a mom!” Your eyes went wide at the realisation, you were barely out of college and were now meant to be the mother of a child.

You were grateful that you asked Ellen to be there as she pushed your worries to the side “if you don’t want this you don’t have to keep it.” She reminded you of the different options you had “but if you do then you will not go through it alone.” Her hand went to your cheek to wipe away your tears “I promise,” she kissed your head as you cried on her shoulder.

“We’re home!” Jack called out as they walked back into the house.

Your head shot up as your eyes went wide “go wash your face and I’ll distract them for a bit,” Ellen offered as she squeezed your shoulder quickly letting you get a moment to yourself.

You faced the mirror as you looked at your red cheeks “hi buddy,” you sniffled as you looked down to your stomach “I’m your momma,” you surprisingly didn’t feel weird as you introduced yourself to your baby.

It felt natural as you let your hand cup your stomach as you smiled, that moment showed you that there was love in your heart for this baby, for your baby.

Jack remained oblivious to what had happened as you and Ellen collectively avoided the topic and anything that remotely related to it. Sure he thought that you were a little bit more quiet than usual but he just wrote that down to you being tired after struggling to sleep last night.

The dreaded conversation though eventually had to come as you were back in your bedroom “babe where is your aloe gel?” Jack called out as he was trying to cope with the sun burn that had formed on his back.

You were so caught up washing your face as you let your mind lapse “my drawer of the bedside table.” You explained as your eyes went wide the moment you had said it.

Panic ran through your system as you stopped what you were doing to run back into the bedroom “wh-what is this?” Jack asked as he picked up one of the tests that he was faced with when he opened the drawer.

Yes you thought it was best to hide them in there “answer my question dammit!” He grew frustrated with your silence.

Tears from earlier came back as a lump formed in your throat “we’re having a baby,” you cried as you used the back of your hand to wipe your now snotty nose.

Jack simply didn’t share your emotions “no,” he shook his head as he took a step back “I don’t want it.” He added as it caused you to scoff.

His response frustrated you “this is a baby Jack not a new shirt you don’t like.” You spoke in a duh tone as you crossed your arms.

The hockey player pressed his lips into a fine line “this is not happening,” he announced as he wanted to just go back in time and not have this conversation.

Unfortunately for him there was no other choice that he had “look I get that you’re not happy about this baby-” raked your fingers through your hair “you’re asking me to give up the prime of my career for some kid?” The venom in his voice was a punch to the gut as you chewed at the inside of your cheek.

It made you see him in a whole different light “this isn’t some kid Jack it’s our kid.” Your voice was soft as your lip began to quiver “I’m not asking you to give up your career for them either.” You added as your nose scrunched not believing that you actually had to say that.

You were left in shock as the boy grabbed his phone and charger like he was going to leave “where are you going?” You two had a rule to never go to bed angry and it truly looked like Jack was going to break that “I’m going to spend the night in Luke’s room.” He explained as he walked out of the room before you could say anything else.

When the door slammed shut you finally got the chance to drop to your knees as sobs left your mouth. Somehow in this moment you felt so alone even though you had this baby with you “I’m doing this for you,” you mumbled as you wiped your eyes before you went to your laptop.

Sure it hurt as you found the next flight back to New Jersey but you knew you had to do it.

Jack didn’t want this baby and as you both had different feelings about it you knew this could very well mean the end of your relationship. With your luck it meant there was a flight back to Newark in three hours, so you were quick to pack your suitcase as you knew you had to hurry if you wanted to make that flight. Since everyone was asleep it meant you also had the chance to leave without being noticed “y/n?” Luke asked as he saw you bringing down your suitcase.

The youngest Hughes boy often got midnight snacks as he stayed up into the early hours of the morning “hi Luke,” you sighed sending the boy a soft smile as he took your luggage from you to walk it down the stairs “heard you and Jack,” Luke confessed breaking your heart in the process.

Years ago when you first fought Luke had heard it all and asked you if you’d still be friends with him even if you and Jack broke up “we just need some time apart,” you explained as you began to feel so drained from all of the crying that you had done.

Luke wrapped his arms around you as he didn’t know if he would see you again “for what it’s worth I’d be grateful to be this little one’s uncle.” His voice was soothing as it made you smile “how are you so young?” You asked yourself as he was so sweet and caring.

“Just making sure you stay safe.”

The next morning Jack and Ellen each woke up to a message from you.

y/n: hey mama Hughes! Sorry for the abrupt goodbye but Jack didn’t take the news too well so I came home. Will keep you updated on this little baby!

doll 🩷: I’m not going to force this baby on you but I’ve made my mind up and I want to have it, I’d like you to be there but if not. I won’t blame you x

Ellen didn’t usually think she was a negative person. Truly she thought she was a good gentle soul, yet the thoughts she had as she sent her middle son daggers in the form of glared made her reconsider her opinion of herself. Sure this wasn’t the most ideal time for them to bring a baby into the world but the love the couple had for each other was so obvious that it was almost painful. When you two were wrapped in each others arms whispering sweet nothings into each others ears was enough to make anyone sick in the best way possible “good morning Luke,” Jim greeted his son who seemed to be sharing the same reaction to his older brother as his mom had.

Despite the one cup of coffee that barely had time to settle in his system Quinn could tell that something was off “what stupid thing did he do now?” The Canucks player asked as he furrowed his eyebrows sending his youngest brother a confused glance.

Jacks ears perked up as he looked up from his phone “I didn’t do anything stupid,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms growing defensive.

Both Ellen and Luke wanted to hit him as he said that “you sure about that?” The blonde hadn’t used her strict tone on her boys in years and it truly instilled fear in her three sons.

At that moment everything clicked for Jack “Kyoto!” He called out as he got up. The Hughes brothers had given that title to moment when they needed their brothers to drop everything because one of them had something to say “really?” Luke groaned as Quinn followed the younger boy out “you know the rules.” The trio of boys soon left their parents as they walked outside to have their conversation.

Jim sipped his coffee as curiosity got the best of him “what do you think they are talking about?” He asked as he turned his attention to his wife “got a few ideas,” Ellen shrugged wanting to text you as she hoped you got home safe.

Quinn sat at the outside table as he wanted to desperately know what was going on with his brother “can someone please fill me in?” He asked as he looked between his two younger siblings.

When Jack remained silent Luke took it upon himself to reveal what happened “y/n left last night because Jack learnt that she’s pregnant-” Luke couldn’t blurt out all that he wanted to as Jack reached out to hit him “dude!”

The air around the three boys was still thick “always thought you’d have kids first.” Quinn confessed as he knew how serious you and Jack were early on in your relationship.

You wished that Jack was sat next to you in that doctors office as you realised that the OB had a space open in the morning. Funnily enough he would have preferred being sat there right now over being sat with his brothers “you want to tell him what you told her though?” Luke spat as he sent Jack a harsh glare.

The Devils player grew defensive “you eavesdropping or some shit?” Jack scoffed as he matched his brothers strong look.

Just like always Quinn had to intervene “let’s just breathe and then talk like adults.” He proposed as he pulled Luke’s chair closer to him so that it was out of Jacks grasp.

Luke sighed as he nodded “why did you say that to her?” He didn’t even mention the reasoning that Jack used to make sure his brother knew what was going on.

Jack picked at his nails as he didn’t want to look at anyone “didn’t want to screw up at being a dad.” The forward also didn’t want to disappoint his child in life but more importantly he didn’t want to be a shitty partner to you. Every road trip the team took, every late night training session or game all added up and Jack could see how it screwed with some of the older guys who had kids.

“Bullshit,”

The trio of boys whipped their heads around to see that Ellen and Jim were stood at the porch door. Ellen actually stomped over to her middle child “every parent screws up,” she pointed out as she couldn’t count how many times either her or Jim had done the wrong thing when it came to parenting those boys “but you deal with it with your partner!” The girl scoffed as she couldn’t actually believe that Jack could act in such a negative way that it drove you to leave in the middle of the night without a peep.

Jack was honestly shitting himself as his mom stood over him “now you’ve got a girlfriend with a heart of gold currently sat terrified in New Jersey as she’s all alone?” Ellen scoffed not realising that the forward furrowed his eyebrows “truly thought I raised you better than that.” Her anger had turned into disappointment as she couldn’t imagine the stress that you could have been going through, especially after that had happened in terms of the stressful build up to taking that test.

When he eventually spoke up it was quite “she’s terrified?” He asked as his chest began to grow heavy because this was the first time since he had heard the news that the thought of you and now you felt about it all.

Sure it was selfish but Jack found himself so caught up in his own stream of doubts that he hadn’t let the two other parties involved in the matter take up any space in his mind “she’s just found out that she’s pregnant and her boyfriend isn’t with her.” Ellen’s voice was comforting as Jack felt tears well in his eyes.

He didn’t often feel this extreme emotions but the thought of you, the woman he centred his entire world around, feeling all of that pain due to his actions made him feel sick “how do I fix it?” Given that Jack was of college boy age, romance wasn’t something he ever truly mastered and besides it wasn’t like he needed to when you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.

The blonde felt her heart soar as her speech obviously knocked some sense into him “go talk to her.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The Hughes family watch on as the middle child got up and made his way back inside so he could go back home, back to you.

From the moment you got back inside you couldn’t help but listen to the video of the heart beat as you stared at the pictures from the ultrasound. Despite the fact that, the house felt foreign as Nico let you stay at his whilst he was still on holiday after you called him in tears you were now feeling content. The Swiss man first took you under his wing when he realised that you were Jacks girlfriend because you so clearly needed “a bit of mental relief.”

Your hand clutched at your stomach “you are going to be my little darling when I finally get to meet you.” You confessed as you didn’t bother introducing yourself for the second time “don’t be fooled by the smell of this place we don’t live here.” You laughed to yourself “but I should really ask uncle Nico where he gets his candles from.”

Jack had to admit that he was surprised when he came back to your apartment and none of the lights were on. At first he blamed it on your poor sleeping schedule and maybe you were just taking a nap. But when the apartment began to not look lived in, plates hadn’t moved from the clean dishwasher, the pillows on the couch were still perfectly fluffed the alarm bells began to ring as Jack realised that something was well and truly off.

My Love x: where the fuck are you

My Love x: this isn’t a joke

My Love x: I’m back in Jersey

My Love x: just let me know that you’re safe please

A sigh of relief left your lips as you hoped that it meant things would be better with Jack. That he’d change his mind but you had to make sure it was what he really did want.

doll 🩷: I’m safe but I don’t want to see you for the next week.

doll 🩷: you need to make sure that what you decide is right for you

doll 🩷: but until then thought you would wanna see this.

*one video attached*

It was the video of the babies heart beat. Jack let out a laugh at the end when your voice came into it “they’re my strong little buddy,” you gasped deciding that buddy was the perfect nickname for your precious little baby.

Jack hadn’t noticed that he was crying until the tear drops began to hit his phone. At first he was crying because he realised how much he must have hurt you but then it morphed into him crying because he was scared. The idea of bringing a child into this world made him feel nervous, not the soft nerves you get thinking about the Stanley cup. These were the nerves you get when you think about facing your fears. Jack knew you’d be the best mom a child could ask for, he saw the way his teammates kids eyes lit up whenever they saw you and how the grin would spread across your lips when they wanted your attention. After this one game you came down with a baby on your hip and you were so caught up telling the child this whole story that you didn’t notice Jack staring at you. In that moment Jack honestly wanted to go home and get a few babies inside of you. His self restraint was truly tested that day when you smiled and walked over to him with the baby still in your hand “this little ones momma had to go to the bathroom.” You explained as you thought he was looking at you weirdly because you were just holding a child.

That memory replayed in Jacks mind as his thumb danced over a picture frame. The image it held was one of the two of you on the boat at the lake house as you had fallen asleep and Jack was so caught up playing with your hair that he didn’t notice when Quinn captured the picture.

This next week was awful for both of you. Neither one really got much sleep as you both just lay on your beds thinking about what the other was doing. You had moved out of Nicos place and in with a friend just so that it meant you would have company when the nights grew dark.

One thing you seemed to be craving the entire week was a red velvet cupcake. There was one place in New Jersey that made a cupcake above them all so on the sixth day of this week that was meant to be radio silence between you and Jack, you finally caved and went to get the sweet treat.

What you didn’t expect though was that Jack would he walking out with an order of his own. He had gone to eat his feelings as he loved their chocolate cake “hi,” Jack gasped as he got the words out.

You smiled as you looked at him “hi baby,” you didn’t even have to wait for a second before Jack pulled you into a hug “I’m so sorry doll,” he blurted out causing tears to form in your eyes for what felt like the a millionth time this week.

It broke your heart when you looking up to see he was crying too “didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” He added as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

The gesture was soft as he wipe the tear away from under your eye “you wanna come with me to grab my stuff?” You asked as your hand went on top of his “I know I said I’d give you a week but I can’t sleep in a room without you for another-” your ramble was cut off when Jacks lips captured yours in a kiss.

There was no denying how much you had missed him, and the pregnancy brain was causing you to miss more than just his company “wanna take you home,” Jack mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.

A giggle left your lips “what are you waiting for then?” You playfully asked as you sent him a smile.

You had told yourself that you could have handled this alone, but deep down you knew you were going home with the man of your dreams who you needed alongside you in this team.

Six months later.

Jack watched in awe as you slept “you got your mama’s eyes my love.” Your daughter cooed as she looked up at her father totally unaware of what he was saying to her.

Since you shut your eyes fifteen minutes ago Jack had just been bouncing her in his arms as he moved around the room “just be grateful you don’t have her toes cause those aren’t as pretty as the rest of her.” He smiled as a random baby noise erupted from her little body.

You scoffed as you had slowly been waking up for the last minute and a half “there is nothing wrong with my feet.” You mumbled as you turned to face them.

The hockey player laughed “you sure about that?” He shot back but quickly went quiet as you sent him a glare.

Your daughter looked at you like you were a foreign sight when Jack sat next to you on the bed “she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl.” You mumbled as you could see the way she already had Jack wrapped around her finger.

He blushed at the comment “as long as my first girl doesn’t get neglected.” The boy pointed out as he hooked his fingers under your jaw so he could peck your lips “I didn’t go through seven hours of labour just to get a peck Hughes.” You always called him Hughes when he was in trouble.

But this time it just made him laugh “can’t use that one for much longer,” he pointed out as he motioned to the engagement ring on your finger.

“I’ll use it until she’s ready to get married.” You shot back as he let you kiss him this time on a deeper level before his thought pulled him away.

“Married… she’s never getting married!”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #imagines #nhl oneshot #oneshots #amber writes fics

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lewmagoo · 2 months

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six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea.

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!”

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail.

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice.

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal.

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail.

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits.

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow.

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered.

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes,

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part.

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it.

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face.

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend.

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go.

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there.

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held.

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have.

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms.

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin.

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer.

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer.

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures.

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace.

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present.

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you.

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together.

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval.

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked.

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted.

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do.

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound.

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door.

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts.

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first.

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either.

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case.

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands.

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight.

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa.

Something was wrong. You knew it.

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too.

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off.

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied.

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you.

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself.

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day.

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out.

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless.

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby.

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love.

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past.

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him.

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were.

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation.

Until now.

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself.

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone?

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP.

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters.

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new.

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump.

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed.

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck.

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

It sent a burning ache through your chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years.

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered.

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t.

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all.

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble.

He looked like a man.

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten.

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern.

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him.

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting.

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour.

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat.

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning.

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp.

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage.

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm.

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk.

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to.

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago.

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now.

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it.

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance.

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms.

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once.

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from.

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand.

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time.

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp.

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway.

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response.

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt.

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once.

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it.

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside.

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall.

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again.

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little.

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that.

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room.

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same.

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley.

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back.

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you.

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room.

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine.

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.”

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting.

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare.

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come.

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man.

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!”

It was Bob, you realized.

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.”

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff.

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you.

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might.

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you.

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor.

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands.

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well.

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

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