The pub is raucous tonight. It seems like everyone and their mum decided to hit up the Three Broomsticks, and Rosmerta only had time to sling their drinks across the counter before hustling off to deal with another round of patrons. It just errs on the side of uncomfortable; the close packed bodies, the almost deafening levels of chatter, the slowly building humidity that leaves his skin damp, even after he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel in an attempt to cool down.
It’s a bit chaotic, but then again, he thrives off of chaos. At least, that’s what he says after watching some bloke spill his drink on a girl in an attempt to feel her up, only to receive a punch to the jaw. It results in a minor scuffle and he just sits off to the side observing it. It reminds him of an Andy Warhol painting for some reason; just a blur of colour and movement.
James Potter is not good at flip cup.
Or, more accurately, he’s not good at this blaspheme of flip cup that Sirius came up with. He’s making them chug a bitter stout instead of beer, and James grimaces the whole way through, costing him and Remus significant time.
He gives up after the third round of losing- he doesn’t hate himself that much, plus he’s sure that if he doesn’t wash down the taste with something else, his tastebuds would never forgive him- and Sirius pats him on the back.
“Oh don’t be sad, Prongs,” he says, pinching his cheeks.
James bats his hands away. “You’re a sadistic bastard.”
“Funny, that’s what my mum used to call me growing up.”
reborn yamamoto and xanxus getting rescued by innocent civillian and falling in love thank you!!!
~I… did my best? Sorry about the length… I got a bit too carried away. (-_-;)~
There was just something about the way he looked slumped up and sitting against that alley wall that caught at your heartstrings as you were passing by. You had initially been led to that alley by a box of kittens you had seen earlier on your way to work. This time, though, you had a bottle of milk with you along with a small shallow bowl you had snuck out of the cafeteria during lunch. You can now feed them in peace and comfort. You just wish your apartment allowed pets so you could take them home.
You were looking for the kittens and found them playing all over the dark suited man with the old fashioned hat; a sight that was definitely not there earlier. Your personal experience with drunks told you he was not drunk. He looked far too troubled to be drunk. You came closer and one of the kittens went up to greet you. You gasped when you saw the blood on its fur. Common sense led you to the conclusion that the man in the fedora was the one bleeding to death.
Scared, you helped him. Putting his arm over your shoulder and started helping him up, your brain trying to figure out what you should do. You thought about taking him to the hospital but then you felt something hard press against your side from his and when you investigated you found he had a gun on him.
After a slight mental meltdown of (“Oh my God, oh my God, he’s got a gun, please Lord don’t let him kill me, I’m going to go to jail!”) you decide to take him home and play doctor using Google searches and Youtube videos to stop the bleeding and stitch him up because, dammit, you can’t just leave him there to die. Just the thought of him lying here dying would never let you sleep again!
You stayed by his side until he woke up. And as you waited for him to open his eyes again you couldn’t help but notice that this was a beautiful man. But there was something broken about the expression on his face even in his sleep and somehow you couldn’t help but feel pity for him. This man was… not whole.
When he first opened his eyes your initial relief froze when he glared at you and somehow, you just knew he would have pointed a gun at your head had he been able to move or if you didn’t move the gun out of his reach. As it was you wondered if this was what small animals felt when snakes cornered them and gave them a death stare.
“Where am I?”
“My apartment,” you admitted wondering if you made a mistake taking him home. “I noticed the gun and… I didn’t think you’d want me to take you to a hospital with it on you.”
His brows furrowed even deeper. “How do you know I’m not just some drunkard who thinks it’s comfortable to sit in a dark, abandoned alley and wallow in his own misery?”
“You didn’t look like that kind of drunk.”
He raised a condescending brow at you and made you blush. “How would you know that?”
“Trust me, my dad was a mean drunk, Mister. If you’re the kind of drunk who likes to lie in dirty places then you wouldn’t have looked so… bothered.” The certainty in your voice made the hitman look up at you in surprise and a little amusement. “Besides, drunkards who wear suits like yours don’t find it comfortable to sit around in an alley like that. They usually have someone pick them up in a limo and take them to some five star hotel or ditch them at some fancy condo unit so they can roll around naked in their money. I’ve worked housekeeping in enough hotels to know how it is.”
Reborn sneered. “Thanks for the awesome deduction, Nancy Drew.”
The snark and the thought of him reading a childhood favorite of yours had you grinning at him, your fear melting away. If he knew about Nancy then surely he couldn’t be that bad. Right? “Your welcome, Hardy Boy.”
Your wit surprised a chuckle out of him. Which he regretted as pain shot up from his back and into his spine.
“Are you in pain?” You asked in concern as you stood up. “Gimme a sec, let me get you some pain meds.”
Reborn shot you an empty glare full of contempt and condescension. His next words hit you like a brick in the face. “You should have let me die.”
Your jaw dropped open in shock at the words out of this beautiful man’s mouth. It was a while before you even managed to form a thought. “Look. I don’t know what happened to you out there but surely someone somewhere would be happy you’re still alive.”
“No one’s probably even going to notice.”
“Don’t have any.”
You bit your lip because you were feeling ridiculous and can’t help but feel you were being too nosy now. “Lover?”
He gave you an arrogant smirk. “Yeah. My exes would miss me but they’ll get over it. They always do.”
You threw your hands in the air and gave up. “Well, I got nothing. Guess now I know why you wanted to die so badly, Hardy Boy. Do me a favor, though? Can you like, die somewhere else after you’re well enough to walk? I’m not particularly experienced with having to dispose of dead bodies.”
Again he snorted in surprised laughter and again he regretted it. “Why can’t I move?”
“You’ve lost too much blood by the time I found you. Gimme a minute, I’ll get you something to eat along with those pain meds.”
As you fed and dressed his wounds Reborn eyed you warily, expecting more questions about the past and selfishly satisfying your curiosity. Instead, though, you amused him with your quips and teased him about being grumpy. It was as though you were absolutely determined not to be affected by his depression and for some reason this annoyed Reborn. With typical Reborn logic, that had annoyed the Vongola Decimo when he was younger, he thought that if he was miserable, everybody else should be miserable with him.
But your good cheer was like a force of nature in and of itself. He didn’t think anything could have brought down his iron will but you proved him wrong in the few days you had seen to his care.
While you were out at work, he tried walking around to find something else to read. You owned a few and the book you gave him was surprisingly something he liked but he had always been a fast reader and he was finished in a couple of hours with it. He discovered a letter hidden in your drawer while he was looking for something else to pass the time with and read it out of boredom.
The content infuriated him beyond speech and he confronted you about it the moment you got home.
“Okay, Hardy Boy, let’s change your bandages.” You greeted him tiredly as soon as you entered the bedroom.
The sight of your tired face made Reborn’s anger rise several notches higher and he threw the letter at you before you could reach him. “Who the hell is this?!”
Your jaw hit the floor when you recognized the letter while your whole face burned red. “You went through my things?!”
“I was looking for a distraction, that novel was too short, now tell me!” he demanded through gritted teeth.
“What?! It took me a month to finish that book! And that’s none of your business.” You looked away and prepared the bandages. You refused to meet his furious gaze.
“He’s not your husband, you’re not wearing his name. You’re certainly not wearing a ring. What are you to him then?” he sneered and grabbed your wrist so tightly you were forced to meet his eyes. “His mistress?”
You blinked, the tears trying to explode from your eyes as the guilt and shame rolled over your chest like a wave. “Is it really so wrong to want to be loved? Even if it’s just for a little while…?”
Reborn wanted to kill something. Preferably large, lumpy and human. “BUT HE’S ASKING YOU FOR MONEY! WHERE THE HELL DOES HE GET THE NERVE?!”
“Yeah… You can say it’s my penitence for being a shameless woman.” Humiliation made your face pale as your sins were paraded before this stranger. He must think less of you now that he knew your deepest darkest secret. It had been nice… Having someone who didn’t judge her from past mistakes and talking to her for a while like they were friends. Oh well… You knew you were done for in polite society the moment you agreed to have an affair with a married man. Even now after it’s over, its shadow still haunted you. You bit your lip hard to keep the tears from falling. “Now show me your back. We need to get you wrapped up and clean. You wouldn’t want that wound to get infected, do you?”
It had required Reborn all his strength of will not to beat the subject into the ground where it belonged but he remained silent for your sake. Inwardly he wanted to find this man and bash his skull in. How could that bastard call himself a man?! Taking advantage of a lonely woman like that and then extorting from her?! He could understand if the woman was an absolute slut of a conscienceless bitch but you were different. You were kind. You’re funny. You smelled like heaven and sex and―
Reborn’s eyes caught your hand carefully tucking the letter in your pocket as you turned away and his rage flared out even more.
That’s it. The moment he’s out of here that son of a bitch is a dead, dead man.
“Hey, Hardy Boy?” he looked at you but you refused to meet his eyes. “Sorry you had to see that. Don’t worry, though. Just give it a couple more days and you won’t have to see me again. So don’t be too mean to me about this. Okay?”
You turned and ran from the room before you could see his piercing dark eyes turn into judging brim stones. You had managed to keep yourself together when other people gave you hell for being ‘the other woman’ in your former relationship with that man; but somehow the thought of having Reborn think so low of you made your knees weak. Made you want to stop existing in shame.
The next day you came home to find the small apartment empty. You had to lean against the bedroom door’s threshold for support when you saw the empty bed. He was gone. He probably left while you were away. So disgusted with your jaded past he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.
That night, as soon as you were ready for bed, grateful that you can use it again after a week of sleeping on the couch, you tried to tell yourself everything was alright like you always do. But as soon as you lay down you smelled his scent stuck to your pillows. The intoxicating smell of sunsets and bitter coffee mixed with expensive tobacco. Suddenly your tiny apartment felt much too large and empty…
You cry yourself to sleep.
That night you had a nice dream, though.
He was back.
He was unbuttoning your night gown from the neck down and raining kisses on every available skin he exposed. Your blanket is gone and your skirt was hiked up around your waist. His leg was rubbing sensuously between your thighs in a way that made your back arch. When his lips tenderly took in a nipple in his mouth and started laving it with his tongue the pleasure became so intense you moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Easy, Nancy Drew. We have all night.”
The words snapped you right out of the half-awake state you were in and your face burned red at the realization that you weren’t dreaming. You try to push him off but it was like moving a stone wall. “What are you doing?!”
“Reborn. My name’s Reborn,” he smirked down at you as he spread your legs wider so he could grind his hardness between your legs making you gasp. “And I’m going to do what I’ve been wanting to do since I got the feeling back in my body thanks to you.”
“Wha― Wait! I thought you left!” you were holding his shoulders so tight you were surprised you hadn’t torn his shirt yet. You bit your lip against the sensations when he started peppering your neck with kisses and his large, rough hands started stroking the back of your legs in a way that made you helplessly gasp out his name. “Reborn!”
“Fuck,” he breathed, panting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to control himself. “That sounded better than I thought.”
“Y-you barely even know me!” you stammered out as you tried to keep yourself from writhing under the continued onslaught of his hands.
“I know enough to know that I want you.” He made sure to leave a mark on your collarbone as he slipped the nightgown off your shoulders. “I went out to string that son of a bitch up a tree by his toes. If he ever bothers you again, I’m breaking his skull in two.”
“Wait! You went to see― Ah!” Your words were cut off when he lightly bit your other nipple.
“Dammit, you’re so sensitive.” he whispered, breathing hard.
“You think you know guilt?” his voice was thick, seductive. You could almost taste the bitter taste of coffee down your throat as he kissed you; his tongue plundering inside your mouth. By the time he pulled away your head was spinning. “I kill people for a living. Your sins are nothing weighed against mine.”
Your throaty moan and the way you arched off the bed made Reborn grind between your legs more insistently, more eagerly than before. You watched as he knelt up and shamelessly freed his arousal from his pants all the while eyeing you with smoldering dark eyes that made you melt in a puddle of need. Gently he lifted your legs to remove your panties, his finger sliding inside you testing how ready you were for him.
“Reborn…” you sounded needy but you couldn’t help it. Especially since he made sure you were watching the way he was slowly thrusting his sex inside you. “Reborn…!”
“Damn it,” he panted against you as he thrust deeper. “Hearing you say my name makes me want to come. Go ahead, darling. Tell me you’re mine.”
Even as you lose your mind to the pleasure of his thrusts you promised yourself you won’t regret this. You wanted this. You wanted him. It didn’t matter if he left after. You were used to being abandoned, anyway.
But Reborn had other plans for you. Despite the guilt of dragging you into the dark world he was in he needed you too much to let you go. You were his.
He proclaimed it hoarsely as you came, trembling in his arms…
He had been foolish and careless.
He was expecting a simple job, really. He was supposed to corner the rat that was leaking information from the Vongola for another Mafia Famiglia and ‘get rid of him’ so he did. Takeshi managed to corner the man in an old apartment building. Had said his words of parting and slashed a sword through his chest. How was he supposed to know the man had a bunch of bombs strapped around his body and a dead man switch in his hand? But then again Takeshi had moved too quickly to find out about these little details.
He tried to outrun the explosion and managed to jump off down one floor to the balcony of the next apartment building over. He had been one millisecond too slow, however. Because a shrapnel from the explosion shot through his shoulder made him lose his balance and land on your balcony, already unconscious.
You rushed out at the sound of the explosion and was shocked at the sight of the bleeding man at your feet. Briefly, it occurred to you that he might be trying to rob you but when you saw the amount of blood pooling around him you kneel down by his side.
“Hello?! What happened?! Can you stand up?!”
You put your fingers on the inside of his wrist and felt a pulse before grabbing him from under his armpits and pulled him inside your apartment just in time before a bunch of police cars drove by. Looking it up and seeing whatever hit him was shot completely through his body you stop the bleeding and stitch him up as best you could. Your hands were a little unsteady and you had had to silently apologize every time you made a mistake but the man was so unconscious he didn’t even twitch. You thought about calling 911 but you couldn’t for fear of the attention it might bring. You liked your privacy just the way it was, thank you very much.
The next time Takeshi opened his eyes you were there waiting. Your eyes worried and nervous but your lips pursed in determination all the same.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
Takeshi barely managed to open his eyes at the soft concerned voice and got a glimpse of your eyes before smiling goofily. “Pretty…”
“What?” Great, he’s a weirdo. “I better take you to a hospital―”
“No… No hospital… Might as well let me die… OW!” You knew it wasn’t right to hit a man when he’s down but you couldn’t stop yourself. Hearing such words made you furious. Takeshi, however, pouted at you. “What was that for?!”
You stared back at him and his smile melted away at your glare and your lips pursed in disapproval. “Don’t talk like that, you moron! Do you have any idea how many people would give their right arms just to be alive right now?!”
The Rain Guardian blinked at you incredulously before laughing out loud. Something he regretted instantly as pain shot through him and made him limp.
“Serves you right, idiot.”
“Sorry! Geez! You need to work on your bed side manners.”
“I’d consider that advice if I were a nurse. But I’m not. So screw you.”
Again Takeshi scratched the back of his head at the sight of your displeasure. “I’ve made you mad huh?”
You sigh as you stand up and start to leave. “Lie down while I get you something to eat and see if I’ve got some pain meds.”
For some reason it bothered Takeshi that he upset you and without thinking, he grabbed your wrist and made you look back at him. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
Takeshi met your eyes and felt electrocuted by the sheer sadness he saw in there before you blushed and cleared your throat, pulling your wrist away from him and rubbing at it like it burned from his touch. “It’s okay, forget about it. Just… As long as you stay here I don’t want you making jokes like that, alright?”
There was just something so broken about you that the swordsman felt something in his chest thaw a little at the sight of it and by God did it hurt. He couldn’t help but be curious about you while you nursed him back to health.
All through that week you took care of his needs without any complaint despite being so obviously busy with your work. Sometimes, Takeshi could barely get a smile from you. You obviously lived alone and unprotected, surrounded by a mountain of books and that bothered him. You acted all tough and independent but he could see your vulnerability plain as day. You hide just how fragile you were from the world. As time went by Takeshi became more and more restless at the protectiveness you inspired in him.
A couple of days later he got bored lying in bed waiting for you to come home so he decided to see if you had anything he could spend time on. He was certainly not a very big fan of books so he ignored the impressive bookshelves lining your walls and foraged through a drawer where he saw you keep your knick knacks. To his delight he hit pay dirt when he found a tiny photo album.
He was willing to bet the little kid of about seven was you. You had two older people on there who were possibly your parents, and a little boy who looked enough like you to be your brother. He had the same hair color as you. You looked like you have a happy family. His smile melted off as he flipped towards the end of the album and saw you posing happily with your tired looking but smiling brother whose head had been shaved off. From the tubes sticking out of his nose and wrists it was easy to see that he was ill. The paleness and look in his eyes told him that the sickness was terminal. And if you were only seven in this picture then…
No wonder you hit him so hard the first time you guys met.
Flashes of his stupidity back in middle school came back to him all of a sudden. About how he would have leaped off that school building had Tsuna not stopped him. He had taken his life seriously for granted even now.
He needed to apologize to you.
The sound of your footsteps alerted him of your arrival so he returned the album and hurriedly went back to the bedroom and waited for you to greet him. He couldn’t believe just how hard his heart was pounding at the thought of seeing you again after a whole day. But when you didn’t come in after a few minutes he got worried. So he got up and peeked behind the bedroom door that had a view of the entrance. What he saw made envy wrap around his neck like a noose ready to choke him.
“You sure you don’t want me to spend the night?” the man you were with asked, still nuzzling your face and dropping sweet little kisses on your lips.
You smiled tiredly and caressed the man’s face lightly in response. “Sorry. Maybe next week?”
The man frowned. “You’re working too hard. Geez, just let me take care of you.”
You laughed and jealousy twisted in Takeshi’s gut like a fist. It was the first time he’d heard you laugh. It sounded heavenly.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for walking me home. See you tomorrow?”
The man sighed in frustration but kissed you deeply nonetheless before stepping away and leaving. You watched the man go and it was a while before you even noticed Takeshi had been openly staring at you with the oddest expression on his face. It was strange not to see him smiling.
“Oh, hi, Takeshi,” you greeted him. “Sorry, let me just cook us dinner. I’ll change your bandages later, alright? Are you hungry? I’ll make curry.”
Takeshi focused in releasing small little breaths trying to loosen the anger and the jealousy and the godforsaken want eating at his gut like a goddamned leech. Logically he shouldn’t really be this mad, right? It’s not like you were together. It’s not like you were in love with him.
“So,” he began, still feeling a little breathless from having to strangle the fury from his system. It had been all he could do not to push the door open and cut that man’s head off. “A boyfriend huh?”
“Yeah,” you answered as you began chopping up the onions and all the other ingredients. You decided to get changed while everything simmered. “He’s my boss’ son. We’ve been together since last year.”
“Oh.” Takeshi knew he sounded like he was being strangled but he couldn’t help it. He kept staring at your back feeling like a lump was forming in his throat as he applied all his strength not to just grab you and demand you forget about that smug idiot. “Is it serious?”
“I think so,” you shrugged as you continued to work. “He’s been talking about living together lately. I guess he’s right. It would be cheaper for me.”
“Oh.” Takeshi gritted his teeth now. “He’d be paying the rent?”
“We discussed sharing the rent,” you said, finally done with partially cooking the ingredients in the oil and dumped them all in a kettle to add the water, honey, apples and curry blocks in. “I wouldn’t be comfortable otherwise.”
Bullshit, Takeshi thought viciously. If he really wanted to take care of you he’d pay for the entire thing! He’d marry you and buy you a house and a garden and a room full of your stupid books.
He laughed despite the fact the he wanted to break something. “Really? If it were me I wouldn’t let you have to pay for anything. You’d just live there with my dog and my bird.”
That made you turn around and look at him. “I didn’t know you had pets!”
“Sure do.” He grinned. I can give you everything you could possibly want! “I’ll let you meet them someday.”
And then you smiled one of those smiles that had been making his heart feel like it was floating in the air. Takeshi could only stand there and stare at you in longing, barely even breathing.
Surely you weren’t expecting him to just up and go as soon as he recovered, did you? It’s just not happening. He was too drawn to you, too aware, too obsessed to watch you end up with someone else. He had to do something. He had to do something quick.
That night, after taking a bath and having dinner you were finally ready to change Takeshi’s bandages. You really wished you didn’t have to. Every time you did you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of the lean, well-muscled body just underneath your fingertips. It was a good thing Takeshi was gentleman enough not to make you self-conscious by deliberately cracking jokes and just being his talkative self. He had been a soothing, secure presence in the apartment. You didn’t know why but knowing he was nearby made it feel like nothing and no one could possibly hurt you.
Carrying the bandages and looking forward to his chatter you stopped cold at the bedroom’s threshold, confused when you found it empty. Just when you started wondering where he could be a warm breath whispered over the bare skin of your nape.
“You’re blocking the door.”
You yelped and jumped away only to blush even more at the sight of your houseguest standing behind you fresh from a bath and wearing nothing but a towel.
Your swallowed hard and focused on your concern despite your heart beating a mile a minute. “What were you doing?! You shouldn’t have taken a bath your wounds are still fresh!”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t get them wet. I just scrubbed myself from the waist down. And my face as well. Sponge baths are fun but nothing beats a nice old scrubbing. So? Shall we?” He casually walked passed you, lithe as a wolf and lay on the bed like some Greek god waiting to be fed by his handmaidens!
What’s going on? Something’s different with him tonight. You tried to shrug it off and sat on the bed with him, concentrating on taking off his old bandages first to replace them with new ones. But unlike the past few nights when he drowned the awkwardness with his chatter, tonight Takeshi sat still and silent.
And never took his eyes off you.
You could hear your heart pounding in the silence and your breath was coming faster especially when you had to wrap the bandages around his body and got a whiff of the clean, musky scent of his skin. Somehow, while you were wrapping another strip around him, you lost your concentration. Your fingers slipped and skittered over the skin of his side.
“Hey,” you looked up, wide eyed and blushing at the raspy timber of his voice. It felt like a brush combing over your skin. “That tickles.”
You try to apologize only to be caught by his eyes. You caught your breath at the way they smoldered with something absolutely carnal.
“Takeshi?” you whispered as he leaned down towards you. “What’s happening?”
Instead of answering he caught your lips in a kiss so wanting and needy you could hardly believe you were being kissed by the same person. It was like he was sucking the very soul out of you. You weren’t sure how he did it but somehow, your clothes were on the floor and you were underneath him while he thrust again and again inside you with possessive eagerness.
“You’re breaking it off with him,” he kept whispering in a broken voice in your ear every time your hips met his. “You’re going to choose me…”
You were not having the best day of your life.
Your pervert of a boss found another opportunity to grab your ass again, your annoying coworkers were still a bunch of bitches and somehow, your flat mate left a garbled message in your voicemail about being out of town and that she wasn’t sure if she’ll ever come back again leaving you to pay for the rent all by yourself. And people wonder why you won’t just quit your job. There’s just no way this day could get any worse.
Mentally and emotionally exhausted you walk into your apartment and switched the lights on… Only to almost have a heart attack.
“Shut up.” You promptly obey when you heard the click of a gun as the large, dark man sat up a little bit straighter in your favorite chair and pointed said gun at you. “What are you doing here?”
You swallowed hard before answering. “I-I live here.”
He scowled, apparently not liking the answer. “Where the hell is she?”
“Sorry, who?” you asked, trying to keep yourself calm. You had no doubt your brain will decorate the walls the moment you decide to run. Damn that’s a big gun.
“Veronica.” The man growled. “She said she was going to buy some meds.”
You swallowed. “She- she’s gone. She left me a message earlier. She says she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be back.”
“Son of a bitch.” He muttered through gritted teeth even as he leaned back in your chair again.
He must be your flat mate’s new boyfriend. The big fish she had been singing about these past few weeks who was going to be her ticket out of their hell hole of a life. So why would she drop him off here, obviously injured instead of sending him off to a hospital?
You noticed the smell in the room. The smell of gunpowder and blood. You look at the roughhewn rug you purchased from the flea market for a song last year and saw the warm brown was now rusty with red.
“Sir? Are you alright? Do you want me to get you an ambulance?” Please let me get you an ambulance. Anything to get you out of my house!
“If you try to make one single call, I’ll blow your fucking lungs out. Be quiet.” He ordered. His voice raspy and obviously in pain.
And you really couldn’t stand it. “You’re bleeding.”
He sneered back at her. “Congratulations. You’re smarter than you look.”
Okay now that was just uncalled for. “Can you hold on a bit? I have a med kit in the bathroom I can―”
He aimed the gun at you again. It amazed you that he hasn’t lost consciousness yet despite all that blood loss. “You’re not going anywhere, scum.”
Okay, that’s it. “Look, you’ve got the door covered, I won’t be able to run away. You are bleeding all over my floor and my favorite chair and you have ruined a perfectly good rug. I have had a very bad day, although obviously not as bad as yours. But I am tired, and hungry and the last thing I need is for an obvious criminal insulting me in my own home! Now put your gun down, sit still and let me get my damn med kit so I could at least keep you from dying in my goddamn house!”
Xanxus blinked back at you for what seemed like a full minute and you were half sure he was going to shoot you now. Instead he grunted and did as he was told but his garnet eyes narrowed at you the entire time. Taking that as permission you hurried to the bathroom, tiredly contemplating your life.
You managed to bandage him, thanks to all the busted heads and knees from the little league soccer team you coached over the weekends. You were amazed he did not make a single sound while you were stitching him up. He was wounded pretty bad. It was a good thing whatever hit him came out or you would have been forced to cut him open to get it out. Judging from the scars on his body it seemed this was nothing compared to whatever else he’s been through, though.
Somewhere during your treatment he fell asleep. Worried, you cleaned him up and stayed beside him to watch out for a fever.
Xanxus woke up dizzily at the feel of a soft hand brushing gently over his forehead. The first thought in his brain was that he fell asleep in a brothel. But then your scent wafted through him and he focused on your face.
“Welcome back.” You greeted him, relieved. “Give me a minute.”
Xanxus watched you walk off to the kitchen and come back with a glass of water and some warm soup. He noticed your clothes were still soiled with his blood as you came near.
“Can you sit up? You need to eat. You’ve lost too much blood.”
Xanxus did not move. He had too much pride to show you he can’t feel his arms yet.
You seem to figure that out too because you held the glass of water to his lips to help him drink. You failed miserably. Xanxus sent you a silent glare.
“Sorry,” you frowned, trying to figure out what to do before you pursed your lips and stood up. “Sorry about this.”
Xanxus watched you with some curiosity as you drank the water then leaned down towards him and made him drink the water from your mouth. The Varia Boss imbibed thirstily, not even realizing how parched he was until this.
You held his nicely chiseled chin in your hand and looked him in the eye, watching for any signs of refusal. “More?”
His slight nod was all you needed and you repeated the action. As you two continued he couldn’t help but notice how soft your lips were. How good you smelled. How nice your voice sounded now that you weren’t screaming at him. After finishing the whole glass Xanxus felt better. He could at least move his fingers and his mouth now.
“Okay, the soup’s hot so I can’t do that again but we’ll do this.” You scooped up a spoonful and blew on it until it cooled before holding it against Xanxus’ lips. Luckily he could move his lips and mouth after the water.
After feeding him you wiped away a few strands of hair from your forehead and sighed. “Is there anyone you want me to call? Anyone who can pick you up?”
Xanxus thought of Squalo and how he would have to deal with the Shark’s bitching if he didn’t at least let the trash know where he was so he nodded. You held your phone for him while he tapped out the numbers. The voice that answered nearly cost you your eardrums.
“VOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!! WHO IS THIS?! THIS HAD BETTER BE IMPORTANT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL―”
“Xanxus? XANXUS?! YOU FUCKMOTHERING SON OF A WHORE!!! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! I’VE BEEN HAVING EVERYONE SCOUR THE GODDAMN CITY FOR YOU, YOU BASTARD! WHERE ARE YOU?!”
Xanxus raised a brow at you and you answer for him and gave the loud man on the other line your address.
“VOI! WHO WAS THAT?!!! THAT YOUR NEW WHORE?!”
“No, Veronica was the one who got me in this shit in the first place before running off like the bitch she is. Now pick me up, fucking Shark or I’ll make it so you’ll be shitting through your forehead.” Xanxus hung up without further ado.
“He sounds like he was really worried about you.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose you guys are a group, huh? What’s your motto? Swearing is Caring?”
To your surprise, his lip actually twitched at that. Despite being pretty sure he was a murdering psychopath, you couldn’t help but like him. He had a well-worn look on his face that told you this man had it rough. The kind that crawled out from the dirt to get to the top.
“Still hungry? Want me to make you something else?”
You blinked and stared back. “Yeah?”
“I kill people for a living.”
“Um… I kinda guessed the moment you pulled a gun on me and threatened to blow my brains out.”
“Then why the hell are you being so fucking nice? I could order my men to rape and kill you when they come here if I wanted. And then I could shoot you dead.”
You winced. “Would you really do that? I hope you won’t. Because that would really suck.”
You surprised a snort out of him. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”
“And you swear too much. Not that I mind. Now I don’t know about you but I’m famished. Hold on a minute and I’ll get us some decent breakfast. You’d probably want to walk out of here by the time they come instead of crawl. Or worse yet, get carried off bridal style.”
It had taken approximately forty five minutes before the rest of the Varia arrived. It was full-fledged pandemonium for a total of five minutes while Squalo screamed, Levi wailed, Lussuria wept, Belphegor giggled and Mammon erased all evidence that they have been there. He was about to float over to you and get rid of the witness but Xanxus’ voice stopped the illusionist.
“Hold it. No one’s touching that. That one’s mine.”
You met his eyes with your questioning ones but his face was the same solemn granite you had beheld all night long. His beautiful ruby eyes arrested you into stillness. It was like being caught in hypnosis. You barely even noticed how his companions threw you curious and assessing looks as they protectively ushered their Boss away.
He stuck in your mind, that Xanxus. Even after a week you couldn’t get him out of your head. He was an enigmatic man. You don’t usually go for bad boys but there was just something so… special about him for lack of a better word. A curious brand of strength mixed with a soul that had known too much hurt.
She should really stop thinking about him. Life moved on and at least she was alive. She had bigger problems. Like the rent. So when a male coworker expressed interest in become flat mates with you you pounced on the chance and took him home.
Imagine the poor guy’s shock when he was met with the barrel of a gun between the eyes.
“Who the fucking hell is this?!”
“Wait, you can’t kill him! He’s going to be my new flat mate!”
If you thought that was going to calm him down then you have another think coming.
“Listen, boy,” Xanxus growled. His voice low, raspy and utterly deadly. “You’ve got three seconds to move your ass or you’ll be feeding the sewer rats tonight. One.”
Your hopes were dashed in less than a second as your guest ran screaming bloody hell into the night.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” you were almost in tears as you stomped a foot on the floor. “How am I going to pay the rent this month?!”
“Fuck the rent. I’ll set you up in a penthouse.” He snarled as he put his gun away and stalked towards you. “Hell, I’ll give you a fucking mansion!”
“And how am I going to pay for something like that, Mr. Big Shot?”
You’re sarcasm was cut off when he pushed you against the wall, his eyes again pinning you like a butterfly on a board and you felt that pull again. The same one you felt the last time you saw him before he left.
“By becoming mine, of course.” He growled quietly as he leaned towards you.
You try to push him away, your cheeks red and your eyes glaring. “I am not Veronica. I am not going to be her replacement, you idiot! Let go!”
“Moron,” he huffed in amusement at your futile attempts to free yourself from him. “Veronica wasn’t my woman; she’s just a fuck toy. You’re going to belong to me. Anybody else tries anything on you; I’ll blow their fucking brains out.”
Somehow, as he caught your lips in a heated, passionate kiss, you couldn’t help but think that this just may be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to you.
what do you think John and Sherlock talk about in bed at night? the rare times they turn in together. in that bit of space where they decide, yep, time to turn in, and Sherlock grumbles but they undress and get in and turn to each other and look across the space in the dark, just barely able to make out the shape of their features in the dark. “Are you going out tomorrow? We need hand soap for the bathroom.” “Mm, I need batteries too. And I think we’re running low on that funny smelling cleaning stuff you like.” “It doesn’t smell funny, it smells nice.” “It smells like my grandmum did in the 90s.” “It does not.”
And they have a goodnight peck and roll over and each kind of sit there in the dark trying to fall asleep wondering how it is that this mad insane spectacular person loves them.
Hello JHH! Could you please write a rpf with Gillian being high on painkillers and David being her nurse? 😘
Okay but this is going to be a total nonsense! (And thank you so much to @sembell for the beta and to @becksndot5 for reading this nonsense first)
“You smell funny,” she says, sniffing around his face interrogatively as he starts to fix the bandage around her swollen foot.
“Nice.” he deadpans with a grin on his face. “How about you stop moving, so I can do that correctly?”
He has never been good with his hands, and he isn’t fond of seeing blood, open wounds or swollen joints, but as soon as he heard her cracky voice over the phone, he couldn’t resist and bought a plane ticket for London. She could use some help with the boys and everyday tasks. And he could take care of her just like she took care of him a few years ago, when he ended up in the hospital almost blind after a basketball game.
“You sound funny too.” she says, squinting her eyes as if to have a better look at him.
When he arrived, he hadn’t expected the painkillers she had to take to make her high enough to think that he was Mulder in person, nor to call him Mulder for the entire first day.
“Okay, honey. Just lay down, and…”
“As if you were far far away but also very close.” she continues. “Why are you so far away, David?” she furrows her brows in concern and all of a sudden, tears start to fall down her cheeks, her mouth distorted with pain and sorrow.
“Hey, hey! Babe! I’m right here, okay? I’m here!” He waves at her, making her smile. “See? It’s me. I’m not far away. I’m with you. So now, lay down, and…”
“Did you cut your hair?” she interrupts him again, her sweet smile fading.
“Yes. Yes, I cut my hair. Let me guess: I look funny, right?” he chuckles, and finally manages to continue wrapping up her ankle.
“No! I loved your hair! Why did you cut your hair?” she begins to cry again. “Can you put it back? Please, David!”
“Gillian,” he sighs. He starts to wonder if adding up a sleeping pill to her painkiller would be okay. Probably not, but he’s not getting any younger, and he feels like having a whining baby on drugs around him. It’s ten times worse than the day they took mushrooms together and she insisted to get out of his trailer and wander in the forest at night. Naked, of course. He’s certainly not going to survive fifteen days with a high and incoherent Gillian. He needs to come up with a plan. “No, Gillian, I can’t put it back. But it’ll grow again soon, don’t worry.”
“Yes. What? No! Not tomorrow!” Her mouth distorts again, and she’s about to burst into tears. “Yes! Yes! Tomorrow! My hair will be back tomorrow. In one beddy-bye.”
Did he just say “beddy-bye” to the woman he loves? he wonders. Oh god! Okay, she needs to stop talking, and he needs to finish her bandage and let her sleep. She’ll probably feel better after a beddy… after a nap.
“Here.” he says as he holds his phone to her. “West showed me this app. It’s funny, you’re gonna like it. You take a picture of me, and you can change my haircut. Do you want to try it?”
She nods with a smile and finally falls silent for a few minutes, allowing him to finish her bandage properly. All he needed was to occupy her mind with something else. Now he’s going to make dinner while she sleeps a little bit, and after a few hours, she’ll be back to her old self and they’ll enjoy a calm and snuggly evening watching a silly British TV show. He wonders if they have Dancing With the Stars here too.
“I’m finished, clumsy beauty.” he says, proudly. “Did you find me a good haircut?”
“Yes, I like you in red, but people say you look better with blond hair.”
And don’t even fucking try to tell me that I don’t miss you. Don’t even think you have or deserve the audacity to do that. You can’t make me fall in love with you and then decide that I don’t miss you. That isn’t how this works. Because I miss you with every inch of my being. All I do anymore is miss you. I miss your smell and your fingers and your laugh. I miss how you would make fun of me and all of our inside jokes, our conversations about the universe and our place in the world. I miss my best friend. And you most certainly don’t get to try to tell me otherwise.
Summary: Ramona and Mitchell have been using their friendship to get their parents in the same rooms for over a month. This time, Mitchell and Ramona approach Sam when he’s alone and hatch a plan to speed up the process.
There’s a reason you haven’t dated much. Not necessarily because Mitchell had a problem with your dates or they had a problem with your son, although both have happened once or twice. You have a secret, and not the normal kind. No one in town knows what you did before motherhood; the people who do know are dead or as good as. Honestly, you’d like to fall in love, get married, give your son a father, but they’d all run if you told them the truth. They would bring trouble for both of you, and you can’t risk that.
This is your secret: you were a monster hunter. You quit to raise Mitchell, but life before the baby was all about exorcising demons and burning bones. The finer points and specifics have rusted over time, but you’ve found a use for some skills. To this day, you slip protective hex bags into your son’s backpack. Sigils are etched into the kitchen cabinets, a demon trap is painted beneath the carpet in Mitchell’s room, you carry a silver knife wherever you go, and there are two shotguns in the house – one in your dresser drawer, and one in the garage. No monster will ever hurt your son, but you can never tell him or anyone about any of it. It makes relationships tricky.
That’s why this Dean thing is always on your mind. He’s sweet, Mitchell likes him, and you honest to God like him too. Winter segues into spring. Mitchell’s school organizes more events, and Dean is there for whatever you are. It isn’t coincidence – your children are in the same class – but you find yourself looking forward to his company. At the school play, he takes the seat beside yours. Your parent-teacher conferences are back to back. You chaperone the same field trip. On Parent Day, you listen to him explain his job to twenty third-graders. With every encounter, you learn a little bit more about him – that he wears a lot of flannel and is married to his car, for example – and succumb to his charm that much more. Sometimes you want to say you’re falling in love with him.