#anyway i have to go to my usual store before going to the parents place for dinner so i can get my usual store brand CHEAPER allergy meds

[six-of-ravens]

need to remember that my preferred grocery store opens late on long weekend Sundays for some godforsaken reason. had to go to the more expensive store across the street (bc I was not driving 20 mins, thank you), and I didn't break my budget bc I didn't need a whole lot today, but was very much haunted by the unpleasant feeling of getting screwed over the whole time I was there.

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

[my313]

in beomgyu's room 🧸

now playing 𝄞₊⊹ bad - wave to earth & best friend - laufey

⋆ pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader

⋆ summary: a reel of your most precious memories in beomgyu’s room(s), and the one time it’s also yours.

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: fluff, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, non-idol au, mention of mommy kink (sorry they have weird inside jokes)

⋆ word count: 3.6k

a/n: this isnt proofread n i dont think its my best writing, i wanted to focus on dialogue a lot more :0 but i just wanted to put out a lil something for gyu's bday <3 our talented pretty boy 🥹 anyways, i hope u enjoy reading this!

2009 

beomgyu’s room at eight years old is directly opposite from your window. you recently watched taylor swift’s you belong with me music video, and your unassuming neighbor who just recently moved in has become the center of the romantic production running in your little mind. 

when his family invites you over for dinner, you’re giddy to put a name to the pretty boy that’s been in your sights; only ever seeing him with a guitar strapped to his back when he walks by your house as you sit on the porch with a book. 

“hi,” he’s the one opening the door, greeting you enthusiastically. you assumed he would have been a shy boy, especially with the way he walked with his head down and never without an mp3 player and wired earphones. that was just one of the many surprises beomgyu had in store for you and your serendipitous friendship.

beomgyu smiles politely at your parents before pulling the door back and letting you all inside. your mother’s ushering you to the boy, hurriedly greeting his parents and leaving you in beomgyu’s care. 

you turn to him, shy and unsure of what to do, but beomgyu’s there to pull you out of your daydreams. he slightly tugs the sleeve of your shirt, chin tilted to the direction of the stairs. “wanna play mario kart in my room?”

you’re scanning the room to look for your parents, silently asking permission with your eyes when you catch your dad looking back at you. when he nods, you’re quick to relay it to beomgyu, who returns the biggest smile you’ve seen. boys are usually rough around the edges, either boisterous or freakishly hyper-aware of cooties, but beomgyu is different. he’s just loud enough to have you laughing until your tummy hurts, but he’s also a good listener. 

your feet dangle from the height of his bed while he sets up his wii. it only takes a few minutes of tinkering and confused grumbles before beomgyu joins you, sitting close and handing over the controller. 

“i’ve never played this game before!” your voice chimes with the game’s background music, fiddling with the buttons on your controller and accidentally pressing something that makes beomgyu laugh. 

“that’s okay,” he navigates through the buttons on the screen to take you back to the starting screen. “i’ll go easy on you.”

you may have gotten beomgyu all wrong, because as you inch closer to stealing his first place spot on your eighth round of playing, he throws a green shell at you, putting you off-course. 

“that’s so not fair, beomgyu!” you grumble frustratedly, shoulders slumped. beomgyu has a mischievous smile on his face; a different charm to the friendly one you encountered at his doorway, or the re-assuring one when he asked to play mario kart.

“i didn’t even know you could do that.” you whine, twisting your body left and right as if it would take away from your loss.

beomgyu’s mouth opens, but instead of hearing his squeaky voice, you both hear your mom’s. 

“yn, time to go home!”

you both tear your eyes away from the doorframe to look at one another. 

“teach me next time?” you plead, eyes shiny and hopeful that you’ve got a new friend to play with. someone who would always be next to you.

beomgyu feels similarly. he lets it show by nodding enthusiastically, his rectangular glasses pressed onto his rising cheeks, swelling from all the smiling he’s done tonight.

2017

“choi beomgyu!” you yell from the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the creaky railing despite beomgyu’s constant warnings of “you’re gonna fall off one day, y’know.”

you’re both sixteen years old, and tonight is prom. unlike the books you read, you were not serenaded by the most beautiful (subjective) boy in school; but like the disney movies, you’re at your best friend’s house and going as each other’s dates. 

the idea was initially disgusting to both you and beomgyu, suggested by menacingly blunt choi soobin during one of your escapades to the internet cafe. when prom started to come closer and closer, you and beomgyu would briefly text about it in jokes. the final straw was probably the fact that soobin actually got a date before either of you. so, with only three days to prom and a whole lot of spite, you and beomgyu hunted down matching corsages and sealed the deal.

you glance at the clock on the wall, ticking seven. sick of waiting on your bare feet, you lift the trailing end of your dress and make your way up to beomgyu’s room.

you don’t bother to knock, having seen the worst of beomgyu and his room already. the sight that greets you is anything but what you expect.

you expected heaps of clothes on the floor from his panicked frenzy of not knowing what to put on under his blazer; maybe some mismatched socks, and shoes tossed to every corner out of indecision. 

instead, you see beomgyu clad in a neat, black suit, with a navy blue dress shirt. his black hair, usually falling over his eyelashes, is tucked away to show off the face that many come to your classroom to see. just like how he was at eight, you know beomgyu is different; he’s delicate, never gruff, even when he picks you up from your doorstep with bedhead. 

beomgyu has always been pretty, but tonight, he’s charming. he’s handsome. just thinking it makes you want to regurgitate your words and flush them down the toilet. it brings upon this weird pit in your stomach that was never there when you were wiping your cheeto-dust fingers on beomgyu’s shirt as some petty form of teasing. that weird feeling you only got when someone cute walked your way, or someone flustered you to the point of developing a crush. you hope it’s nothing too serious.

“woah!” 

“what.” beomgyu deadpans, unamused by your exaggerated gasp. in reality, the pink on his cheeks already has you guessing that he’s shy. your beomgyu has always been one for compliments and sweet gestures, recalling how his eyes brightened every time your smaller hands patted his head when you were younger. 

“no need to get sassy, jeez,” you roll your eyes playfully, the smile on your face never leaving. “you look good. handsome.” 

“thanks,” he smiles sheepishly. it’s silent for a bit, until beomgyu says, “keep ‘em coming…”

“dipshit!” you smack his forearm. “you’ll hear more from everyone tonight, i bet.”

“i guess so,” he shrugs, looking at himself on the full-length mirror, trying to fold his necktie like the way his dad taught him. you move closer, your dress trailing behind you when you drop the sides in favor of helping beomgyu out with his tie. you’re so close; the kind of close you and beomgyu haven’t been ever before, except when you were ten and you fell off your bike, crashing onto him. 

you’re in front of him now, looping the fabric and not really looking at him. you can’t tell that he’s staring down at your concentrated face, smiling softly at how your tongue peeks out of your mouth in concentration. 

he hasn’t gotten the chance to compliment you back, but he’s noticed how beautiful you looked the minute you stepped into his room. his thoughts only get confirmed further now that you’re just a few breaths apart; your lip gloss has a sheen that’s tempting to swipe off with his own lips, and your eyelashes flutter in the way that beomgyu pictures in a few years time, where you’re waking up next to him every morning. 

“not from anyone that matters though.” 

your fingers stop working, peering up at your best friend. you don’t really know what to make of how his eyes glisten; how they look fondly at you, so you revert to the only thing you and beomgyu know will fix anything — fooling around, saying something stupid.

“are you saying if soobin complimented you, you wouldn’t give a fuck?”

“you make it sound like i’m in love with him.” you shrug, lips pursed as you continue the final touches of his tie. he bumps his forehead onto yours, making you curse. “what? bros can seek validation from one another!”

“so can i seek it from you, bro?”

you shake your head, amused by his unfamiliar use of the nickname. “whatever. are you done now?”

“no.” you groan. beomgyu pulls away from you first, going to his bedside drawer and fishing out a box. 

he come back to your side, this time, with the corsage you both overpaid for. beomgyu wraps it around your wrist and prompts you to turn your hand over, tying it up for you. you watch him intently.

unconsciously, your hands extend to caress his head, gently patting his styled hair. the moment your fingers graze his scalp, he freezes up for a few seconds before resuming, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest.

“i forgot to say earlier,” beomgyu returns to his full height, but his hand is still holding yours. he squeezes three times with his dimples peeking out as he smiles, a semblance of a confession that you fail to pick up on. “you look beautiful tonight, too.”

2021

it’s nearly midnight when you and beomgyu decide that the best activity to do when both of you are jobless on a friday night (saturday morning now) is to dye each other’s hair. 

you left an hour ago for a random supermarket run, and you return with a bottle of bleach, developer and a bunch of dyes that were on sale. possibly also a whole new stock of instant ramen. tonight was one of the nights you’re relieved your best friend has a car.

you’re both twenty now, in college and far away from home for a while. still, home doesn’t feel too far away when beomgyu’s still waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm building with disheveled hair. from your freshman year to now, beomgyu’s still been the same beomgyu that you love. you can admit that to yourself now, finally catching the culprit of that odd feeling in your stomach from prom night. though you’re unsure when you can gather the courage to tell him all that.

you’re pushing the door open to beomgyu’s dorm room, seeing his roommate taehyun slipping his shoes on with a backpack.

“are you running away?” you question, half-joking. “beomgyu can’t be that bad of a roommate. he’s like a pet goldfish sometimes.” 

beomgyu’s shutting the door behind you when he walks into your odd conversation with taehyun. “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said about me.” 

“goldfish are so cute though!” you reason with him, your tone higher in pitch as your silly charade continues. taehyun’s joining along too, laughing at the banter between you and beomgyu. “did you know the guy who created goldfish crackers made them because his wife was a pisces?”

“i’m a pisces,” beomgyu proudly states, chest puffed out with the bags of your pointless mission weighing down his shoulders. “would you make me a fish-inspired snack, yn? answer carefully, our relationship depends on it.” 

you try to ignore the fact that he says relationship, not friendship. details, details. but beomgyu’s all about details. he didn’t say anything for just no reason, so you can’t help but let the thought fester. for now, you keep up with the jokes.

“you don’t even like seafood, gyu.” 

“okay kids,” taehyun interrupts, heading towards the door. “i’m going to the gym. don’t burn the place up, please…” 

“i think i’m gonna burn something else.” you snark, looking up at beomgyu’s perfectly smooth hair. he catches your stare and consciously guards his head. 

taehyun leaves in the next few minutes, and it’s just you and beomgyu again. 

beomgyu’s eyebrows wiggle comically, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to the bathroom. “w-wait, wait!”

“what? backing out?” he challenges you, shaking you by the shoulders. “yn, you can’t!” his whining is convincing, but mostly because beomgyu has this pout that he doesn’t know you succumb to every single time he pulls it out — which is nearly everyday. 

“n-no..! just..”

beomgyu’s face softens. he takes your face between his right hand, squishing your cheeks repeatedly. he huffs mockingly, “fine, you can do mine first.”

in the next hour, beomgyu’s desk chair is situated between the bathroom door and the carpeted floor of the bedroom, holding it open to let the stench of the bleach disperse. you’re sitting on said chair with a towel on your lap, while beomgyu sits on the bathroom floor, legs folded to his chest. his back is leaning against the middle of the chair, but he’s essentially sitting between your legs as you clumsily paint bleach over random sections of his hair. 

“sorry if this turns to shit, beoms.” you snicker, layering more product on the strand between your fingers. you’re startled by beomgyu’s movements, his head tilting upwards slightly to look at you before looking back down. “you owe me free food for the rest of our lives if i end up looking like a dalmatian.”

“that’s fine,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder to motion for him to turn around and face you, trying to get the sections with his bangs. “at least i know we’ll be best friends forever.”

beomgyu fights the urge to say something stupid; something that might end the nights of you sleeping over and snuggling close to his chest — the things that pop up in his head range from “you’re so cute, i wanna kiss you.” to “i think i’ve been in love with you for years, so yeah, anyway.”

he still says something rather silly, but he thinks it’s just slightly less off-putting than telling your best friend who you grew up with that you’re in love with her. 

“technically, you’d be my sugar mommy.”

you raise a brow, “outing your mommy kink?”

“yes, and?”

fits of laughter fill the air, you have to place the brush back on the sink in case you smack beomgyu’s face from how you throw your whole body around when you laugh. he’s just the same, nearly snorting when he sees how red your face has become. 

at some point, you’re still trying to recover from giggling so hard, taking the brush back into your hands and picking out sections of beomgyu’s bangs. he chooses to perch his chin on one of your thighs with his head tilted up, as if admiring you deeply from the ground. beomgyu can ignore the prickly sensation settling on his scalp and the cold tiles of his bathroom floor freezing his butt off if he can see you from this view more often. it reminds him of when you used to let him rest his head on your lap that one time your families went on a road trip, and you both were stuck in the back. or the other times in his childhood bedroom where he’d fall asleep and wake up with your fingers tangled in his hair, head over a pillow on your lap. 

beomgyu thinks he fell for you then, that he’d decided that he’d kneel on the ground forever if you asked him to. he thinks he’d probably do much worse if the requests were coming from your pretty lips. 

you stop painting over his hair, signaling that beomgyu’s done. you think beomgyu’s going to get up from the floor, his legs crossed and obviously sleeping from how long you’ve had him sitting down there, but he’s still in-between your legs that it stops you from moving too. you’re about to joke around and tell him to get up, but you finally catch onto the fact that he’s looking up at you like he’s stargazing, or watching the prettiest sunset in the summer.

“gyu, what’s up?” 

it takes a while for him to respond. beomgyu feels his mind drifting to places he doesn’t know he’s allowed to be in; thinking about how he’s thought of waking up next to you since he was sixteen, and it might have sounded like trying to snatch the sun from the sky back then, but he feels an inkling that it’s not too impossible right now, at twenty, in his room and at your disposal. 

“do you remember when we went to prom together?”

you snort, reminded of your trembling hands when your parents asked you and beomgyu to take pictures and pose together, feeling his hand on your waist. “yeah, we looked pretty good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu draws circles and random patterns on your clothed thighs. “we did look pretty good together.”

“what?”

“what?”

“what did you say, gyu?” your voice comes out in a whisper, even when you try to be firm and persistent.

“you heard me,” he mumbles, finally looking away from you with the pink dusting his cheeks.

“no, i think i have to hear it again.” you tease, flicking his forehead to turn his attention back on you. “come on, say it.”

beomgyu bounces back, eyes trained on you as his lips move faster than any other time you’ve listened to him babble. he’s never even spoken this fast when he’s raging on his matches with soobin.

“jeez, yn, you wanna hear me say i’m in love with my best friend who i have also imagined living together with for the rest of my life?” 

he blinks, realizing what he just said. “well… i mean, you got it.”

you press your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out on beomgyu’s deer-in-the-headlights face. you’d feel terrible if you ruined this moment for both of you, so you try and keep it to giggles and a pleased grin.

“you sure you wanna live with me for the rest of your life, beomie?” you tease, bending down and bringing your face close to his. you enjoy the feeling of making beomgyu shy, and you know his guilty pleasure is when you’re rendered flustered and defensive. 

“that’s all you got from what i said?” he pouts.

“aw, baby,” cooing at him. if his hair wasn’t slicked with bleach, you would have fluffed it and patted it the way he always liked. “d’you wanna start apartment hunting and writing down our kids’ names?”

he blinks up at you, briefly taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it over to show his notes app. “yeah, go ahead.” 

“beomgyu.” you stare at him, slightly bewildered and freaked out, but also endeared. 

“i’m just joking!” he puts his hands up defensively. 

he taps your thigh again once his arms let up. “...you still haven’t said anything.”

“if it wasn’t obvious enough, choi beomgyu,” you start, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “i’m also in love with you. and i would love to be by your side forever.” 

2024 

it’s almost been three years since the night beomgyu and you confessed to each other. 

everything seems to come full-circle, because you’re twenty three and sitting on beomgyu’s lap while playing mario kart. you have vivid memories of being eight years old and telling beomgyu off for not going easy on a first-timer, but you’ve had years and years of payback for that moment by now.

beomgyu doesn’t need to go easy on you anymore, occasionally yelling in your ear when you sabotage him, only to trail kisses from your earlobe to your neck as an apology. 

as you finish up your last game as promised, you turn your head and press a chaste kiss on beomgyu’s cheek. sometimes, you still can’t believe your best friend has graduated from being just that, to being your boyfriend. beomgyu chases after your face as soon as you detach from him, his lips quickly pecking yours.

it took a while until you and beomgyu could live together, only finding a place you could both attest to earlier this year. but since then, you’ve made plenty of memories in every nook and cranny. 

you keep old habits like mario kart, and beomgyu purposely makes mistakes with his necktie just so you can tug on it, kiss him and fix it instead. but your life with beomgyu has new bits and pieces that flourished since sharing your love for one another. your shared baths that consist of gossip that beomgyu is overly enthusiastic of; taking selfies every night when you put on sheet masks for each other; and instead of picking you up with bedhead, you have the privilege of seeing beomgyu in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, picking you up from work and waiting for you to fill the passenger seat of his car.

it makes you think not only about all the lovely moments you’ve had with beomgyu, but the ugly parts that only you both know of each other. 

“i really hope this is a forever thing, gyu.” you blurt out. 

“playing mario kart with me?” beomgyu knows what you mean; he can tell you’re floating in your head when you ask him. still, he lightens the mood.

“yeah,” you chuckle. you suppose he isn’t wrong, you wouldn’t mind this at all. 

“baby,” he tucks a hair behind your ear. “look at me, hm?”

“i love you today,” beomgyu kisses your lips, moves to either side of your cheeks. “i love you tomorrow,” now he’s pressing one on your nose. “the day after,” the last one on your forehead. “until we’re old and wrinkly, i love you.”

your smile in the midst of all his kisses is as wide as it was when you first met beomgyu. you cradle his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbones then bumping your noses together briefly. it makes beomgyu laugh, the sound still as pretty as when he stumbled over his words trying to confess to you. “there’s no one else i would have fallen in love with other than you, gyu,”

“my best friend in the world.”

[starillusion13]

Stay with me

request: "can you do a yungi x y/n one where they're in college together kinda like a childhood bsf to lovers but poly?"

Pairing: Yunho x reader x Mingi

Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers, College Au

Warnings: they are caring bestfriends to you, mention of insult/body shaming in public by your family, reader feeling insecure, isolation, hints of skipping meals, childhood love and mention school bully and violence (just few words). Just a cute friendship to love.

W.C: 4.5k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. My first Yungi fic😁.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Now let's take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.

"She isn't coming again today..." Yunho said and sat beside his friend. The other glanced at him and looked over at your place beside him where you usually sit.

It's been weeks that you were skipping university classes without any proper reason, just texting them that you are not feeling well or you have some important stuff to do. But not clearly explaining anything — that even you are texting them the next day. They are sick and worried for you as it's normal for your childhood best-friends to be like this.

Whenever they ask you to go to your place, you quickly respond with a negative message that you have somewhere to go or someone to meet.

Nobody knows what's the actual matter with you.

"Do you think we should go over to her place and check on her?" Mingi asked while tapping the pen on the desk.

Yunho nodded before pulling out his phone to check for your message but nothing was there to his disappointment. "I am really worried about her. She has never been like this. I don't know why but after returning from her hometown, she is acting weird."

"Did her parents tell her anything again?" Mingi rested his elbow on the table and leaned to his side.

Yunho made an unsure expression to his question and dropped his shoulders. He shook his head when he remembered the last interaction with you when he met you at the convenience store.

…..

"Y/n, why don't you say no to your parents directly? I'm sure that they won't be denying it."

You sighed and turned towards him before picking up the nearest packet of chips in the basket,"And you think that? You are so wrong, Yuyu. They don't care about my opinions."

"But you can try explaining them. I'm sure they will understand." Yunho placed a milk package in the basket to which you glared at him and he sent you his puppy eyes, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That's a baby milk product."

"But you are still a baby." He said and held back his laugh.

This was his common teasing with you in every place and anytime you are having any serious conversation with him and whatever, however and whenever you are with him. You would feel relying on him the most. The bestest friend indeed. There’s a continuous warmth radiating from him for which you feel loved and secured. His big frame whenever he engulfs you in a hug, there’s a silent promise to you — that no matter what he would be there for you.

…..

He sighed when he imagined your face – irritated but laughing with him for the last time that day. After that day, you went to your hometown as it was the end of exam season and you didn’t meet your family for a long time. Last break, you were sick and had so many pending projects for several events that you opted for staying back on campus and completing them before it was too late.

It was late afternoon when they both finally had their last class and packed up their bags to leave the university. Anyways, they were not actually planning to stay there though. Mingi texted you a lot of times during the classes but some you ignored and to some, you replied with one word or just some common usual replies.

They both checked the timing and went towards the parking lot. Yunho took out the keys from his jacket’s pocket and Mingi was quick to enter the passenger seat. Both of them were in a hurry. They were eager to meet you. Before starting the engine, Yunho sighed deeply. A look of worry was visible on his face.

“I hope she is fine.”

Mingi nodded and patted his shoulder, “I’m sure, she is.”

…….

“Yah! Min…did you just eat my snacks yesterday?” stomping your feet, you reached the living room and stood in front of said man and glared at him.

He was so into the video game that he didn’t see your anger but just waved his hand and tried to push you aside. You hit his hand and the controller fell from his hold and sulkily he looked at your face.

“I was about to win the game.” He whined and leaned back into the couch.

“And I am about to eat you if you don't give me my snacks back.”

“Which one?” He furrowed his brows and crunched up his nose. “I’m gonna tell Yunho to buy them for you on his way back home.”

“No. Why’ll he buy it? You ate them and it’s your responsibility to buy them. And you know very well which snacks I’m talking about.” You pulled him up and dragged him towards the door, he was whining on his way but you ignored him and gestured to him to hurry up. “Don’t give me faces.” You folded your hands.

“But that store is far away.”

“And you know how to drive.”

……

While driving to your place, they stopped by some places to buy flowers, chocolates, ice cream and your favorite foods. When Yunho took a box of chocolates, he smiled at the thought of your smiling and excited face after receiving it. He puffed his cheeks and grabbed some other things as well.

Similarly, Mingi was smiling all the way when he bought your favorite ice-cream. He knew how you would jump on your feet after seeing it. He couldn't content his own happiness while buying it.

Apart from all these, they still called you to check on you. Yeah, after ignoring a few calls, you finally decided to pick up. The line was silent at first but then they heard shuffle sounds from the other side, Yunho was quick to speak into the call.

“What are you doing, y/n?” His voice was soft yet demanding.

They heard your deep sigh before your voice, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?”

“If I was really doing something then I could have told you. I was just laying on my bed and …..thinking.”

Actually, that was the main thing, they wanted to know whether you were at your apartment or not. If they would have asked you directly, then you could have got the hint of them wanting to come over to your place and you would have quickly made up a reason to avoid them.

Why actually were you avoiding them in the first place?

“Okay, then keep laying down and think.”

Yunho glared at Mingi at his weird reply but the latter just blinked at the phone in his hold and at him. They heard your chuckle and a little smile appeared on their faces. Atleast, you laughed— maybe a little.

“Why did you call me? Where are you both?”

“We are–”

Yunho cut Mingi’s answer, “hanging out.”

“Oh…okay. Have fun!�� you tried to sound more enthusiastic but they could feel the sadness.

They didn’t drag the conversation because they knew that in a few minutes, they would be at your place and then you couldn’t ignore them or their questions. And this time, they would be surely erasing all your worries and sadness.

.

.

.

Almost after fifteen minutes, you heard your doorbell ring. You groaned at the thought of someone coming to your place at this time and you glared at your bedroom door. You got up from the bed and yawned before stepping in front of the mirror. You made a disgusted face at your reflection and combed your hair with just your fingers.

The bell rang again and you scoffed before mumbling under your breath while making your way towards the main door.

“Let me see whether I look like a human or not or it won't be my fault if you get scared.”

You peeked through the peephole and you were surprised to see your bestfriends standing at your doorstep on the other side. You quickly opened the door and your round eyes were staring at them.

“You both? Here…now?” you asked but slowly moved aside to welcome them inside. Mingi gave you the flowers they bought for you and smiling, you took them. You noticed paper bags in their hand and after closing the door, you followed them to the kitchen when they placed the bags on the kitchen counter. You stood beside Mingi who gave you a bright smile and started taking out the items from the bag. Your eyes were recognizing each little thing was your favorite as if they bought things for a child who was whining for all their favorites.

He grabbed the ice-cream bucket and turned towards you, “This was the last box and I quickly bought it for you. I hope you won't be angry with me again if I ever eat your snacks.” he took the flowers from your hand and tugged them in the vase on the counter top.

“Mingi..” You groaned but quickly took the tub from his hand. You wasted no time and opened the lid. You watched Yunho place some things inside your refrigerator but he approached you with a red box in his hand. You furrowed your brows when he placed it in your free hand.

“Chocolates for my cutie.”

When you noticed the ribbon on top of the box, your eyes went wide, “Don't tell me you went to that store to buy this. This is so expensive.”

“But you are more expensive.” He said and raised a brow at you, challenging.

You laughed at his antics and shook your head, “You both are spoiling me too much.”

“Of course. We love to spoil you.” Mingi said with a smug look.

Your couch had a lot of clothes and books so you asked them to follow you to your bedroom. They both were quick to trail behind like lost puppies but they exchanged looks because they both were hesitant to ask you about the time after returning from your hometown.

Entering your bedroom, they found out that it looked like as if some disaster happened over there. You were never that messy and disorganized. You rolled your eyes at the mess but offered them the free space around the bed.

You scooted towards the headboard and they placed themselves close to you. You offered some chocolates to both of them and you scooped a spoon full of ice cream and put it in your mouth.

“This will always be my favorite.” You offered two separate spoons to them and extended your hand so that they could eat the ice cream. They took small bites.

“So why are you here suddenly? You didn’t even inform me before coming.”

“Because you wouldn’t have allowed us to come here like other days.” Mingi muttered and kept staring at you. Hearing those words from him, you avoided his eyes at any cost and looked down at your lap. You were guilty but also the reasons for which you were avoiding them were running across your mind.

You bit your lip and wanted to disappear from their gazes. But Yunho scooted closer to you. You felt his knees touching yours and his warm hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, Y/n. What’s the matter?”

You avoided his gaze but only to make eye contact with Mingi. You closed your eyes and cursed yourself for behaving like this. But no matter how you feel like running away from them, you still want to stay close. You want to hear their soothing voices talking to you. Spend time with them.

“Y/n…” Mingi pronounced your name softly.

You took a deep breath before looking at him and then to Yunho. Your eyes wandered around his face. A perfect, sweet, soft and confident person in front of you. Excellent in every aspect. Good looking, handsome and tall just like Mingi but who is more intimidating than him.

Yunho’s eyes wandered around your face, he was searching for your discomfort, your sadness and what was the reason you were ignoring him and his friend.

“Am I really not good?” You asked him in a hushed voice. Your shaky pupils and lips between your teeth was making him hesitant.

Why was he feeling that? Is he worried or angry? Angry with you? Because you ignored him all these last days?

“Who said that? You are the best.” Mingi rubbed your back and your body shivered under his touch. Yunho cupped your face in his palms and stared at you, urging you to speak more, “Tell us please. Why were you avoiding us?”

“I didn’t avoid you. I was thinking…”

“You think a lot. What were you even thinking?” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, slightly brushing your lips. Your tears were lining your eyes. You didn’t mind crying in front of them, you have cried before since middle school until now, you have cried to both of them but they never judged you.

But his heart was aching to see you like that, so vulnerable in his hold. You held his wrists tightly when he gave you a small smile.

“I’m feeling insecure lately. Don’t feel like doing anything.”

“Why?”

“This break, I went to a family function with my parents and all my other cousins were present there too.”

Both of them nodded and let you continue. You bit your lower lip and stuck it between your lips.

“They pointed out to me how I have gained weight and also I’m just an average student in my university unlike others there. They were all too pretty and all had boyfriends so they called me the ugly one. Maybe, I am really how they see me.”

“No Y/n, you are not. Don’t take those words to heart. Ignore them.”

“But I can’t, Mingi. Those words are hitting me as if I can still hear them telling me those things repeatedly. You know what's worse about this. My mom laughed with them, she was supporting their accusations.”

“I never liked your mom.”

You turned to Yunho when he said that and you raised your brows, “She didn’t like you either. She always thought that you were a bad influence on me. But she just let me be friends with you only because you are rich.” Then again you turned towards Mingi, “About you, she thought you were some sort of rebellious kid like a gangster because she always saw teachers complaining to your parents regarding your fights.”

“It’s your fault. You are the one who threatened me not to tell your mom that those students were disturbing you so when they didn't stop. I knew I had to beat them.” Mingi smiled after recalling those beautiful memories.

He added, “And that’s how we became friends. Remember?” You nodded while remembering those happy days. Yunho was holding your hands in his and Mingi patted your head, “We missed you these days. You were not talking with us.”

“I was searching for a boyfriend.”

“Really?” He asked you and hesitantly looked between Mingi and you, you felt him squeezing your hands. You nodded but sighed again, “Kidding. I was…isolating myself.”

“Why am I like this?” You asked with a whisper.

“But who would ever love to have an ugly girl like me as their girlfriend?”

“Like what sweetie?” Yunho questioned. ”And don’t even question yourself. You are perfect.”

You took a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho and Mingi wait patiently, Yunho running a soft hand through your hair and with his other one entangling his fingers with you. You inhaled softly and lifted your head up to make eye contact with both of them. Your mind was hazy with lots of thoughts.

“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything correctly. Why do I feel like this? I get overwhelmed by little work and this college stuff. I can’t handle the gossip about me and I feel like I fail at everything. It’s just… too much.” A tear slid down your cheeks and Yunho looked at you with eyes that held so many emotions.

He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness. Mingi was the same, he would again beat anyone for you. He would go to any extreme end just to ensure your well being and that you are smiling.

After all, Mingi first fell for you on the day when he first beat a boy who was making fun of you in front of the whole class. You were crying and he had enough, so he punched the guy across his cheek but the way you stared at him after that, even when he was getting scolded from the teacher, that's when he couldn’t help but smile at you and you gave your bright and wide smile.

That smile did something to him.

He fell in love with you. But you both were just kids.

So, you both became best friends.

Yunho was a transfer student who was a shy and quiet one in the beginning. And somehow they both were placed at the same bench, they quickly became friends. He joined the dance club after exactly one year of friendship with Mingi. Yunho was quick to become a social butterfly. He knew everyone around the school, mostly because of his dance club membership.

But there was this one thing. Even though he got compliments from others, he always wanted to hear your comments on his dance moves and if you ever said just a word like ‘good’, he would smile foolishly as if he achieved something. After every performance, he would search for you in the audience and could find you clapping excitedly at him with Mingi beside you.

You didn't know but whenever you were not around both of them their main topic was about you. They used to talk about you with admiration and love towards you. This was the main reason for them to become friends. And they followed you to the same university.

And they still think about you like that everyday.

“Oh Y/n, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities, and that’s completely fine. You have so many talents, so many amazing people around you who appreciate you. And you are so beautiful. You’re our girl aren’t you? The only one for us.” Yunho looked at you expectantly with an adoration in his eyes.

There was a look of worry on their faces similar to whenever you felt sick and he would rush to your place to take care of you and soon after Mingi comes with medicines and food.

You looked away, not meeting his eyes but Mingi caught your eyes and raised a brow. You quickly replied, “Yes, yes I am.”

His breath hitched when you said those words while staring at him. Both of their hearts felt warm but there was something more, they wanted to say. Something that they think of now is the right time. Maybe…there's also uncertainty in the air.

He beamed with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re our girl, and always will be.” Mingi added to his friend's words, ”We’re here to take care of you. I know things are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier for you.” Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love your bestfriends so much.

You hold so much love and respect for them that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection. When you again felt like crying on the thought, Mingi pushed a spoon full of ice cream in your mouth, “The ice cream is melting like you.”

“Mingi…” you whined with teary eyes. They both laughed at you when you snatched the tub from him and placed it on your lap.

“Y/n, can I ask you something? Please don’t hate me or him after this. But I really want to tell you this. Can I?” He asked.

“Of course, Yuyu. you can tell me anything.” Mingi wiped your tears and you smiled towards him before turning your whole attention on Yunho. Your eyes eagerly waited for him to say whatever he wanted and he glanced at Mingi who nodded and looked back at you. Yunho again held your hands, squeezed them a little and brought them to his lips. These sweet gestures were common to you from him but you felt so nervous this time. Your heart beat increased with every second.

Is he going to end your friendship after this? Are they tired of your dramatic breakdowns?

“Will you be our girl, Y/n?”

You blinked at him and looked at them confused, “Am I not already?��

Mingi chuckled, “Not that silly. Will you be our girl? Our girlfriend?......Please.” he whispered the last part.

For a moment, you thought that they were joking but when you found them staring at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“Are you joking?”

“No…”

You quickly turned around and hugged Mingi, “Please tell me. This is not a joke.”

“It’s not.”

“Then, am I dreaming?”

“No silly, you are not.”

You raised your head from his shoulder, he was still moving his hands up and down your back, “Yunho calls me sweetie and you call me silly. This is not fair.”

And here you go.

Mingi cupped your face in his hand and pressed a soft kiss in the middle of your forehead and smiled dearly at you, “You are my silly girl. My silly…only mine.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “Don't gatekeeper her to yourself. We agreed to mutual this between us. I said ‘our’ specifically but you are saying only yours.”

You looked between both of them and licked your lips before muttering slowly, “Are you pitying me?”

“Y/n…” Yunho called your name with love and held your hands before shaking his head, “we all are different in our own ways. And you are perfect for us. We have seen the imperfect you…the real you. We have seen the ugly versions of you and also the pretty versions of you. But we loved the unfiltered version. The version which felt like you were mine. You are mine.”

“Why do I feel like you are calling me ugly but in a sweet way?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Yuyu…” You hit his arm and continued, “I will ask Mingi to beat you.”

He scoffed, “He can't because he is too weak.”

The latter laughed when you stuck out a tongue at his friend.

“But……isn’t it wrong for both of you to love me? What will others think?”

“I don’t care about others. Are you uncomfortable with this? Say it, Y/n. Are you?”

You shook your head when Mingi turned your face to him, “We want to hear you. Say it please.”

“No. I’m not. I’m happy……I like both of you.” You muttered under your breath.

“What? I can’t hear you. Did you hear something, Yunho?” Mingi creased his forehead and asked his friend who pulled you on his lap and leaned your back on his chest and held both of your hands in front and rocked you in his hold. “No, Mingi I didn’t hear anything.”

“Yeah. because I didn't say anything.”

They both started laughing loudly when they saw you shyly looking down and Yunho rested his chin on top of your head, “But I love my sweet girl the most.” he placed a kiss and softly confessed, “I love you, Y/n.”

You held his hand and played with his fingers. You felt him nuzzling into your hair when you closed your eyes and smiled, “I love you too, Yunho.”

Mingi scooted closer, sitting in front of you he cupped your face and you quickly looked at his face expectantly when he confessed, “I love my silly girl. I love you so much, Y/n.”

“And I hate my snacks thief. I love you toooooo, Mingi.”

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and nose, filled with overwhelming love and care.

“Now come on, Y/n. I know you aren’t eating properly these days. So let’s eat the food we bought for you earlier.”

“ I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.” You smiled brightly and looked at them with a fake pout.“But thank you for all the love and care. I’m so full with it.”

“Uh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, and that’s the end of this conversation.” He said in a stern voice before standing up. You crawled away from him when Mingi caught you in his arms and stood up holding you bridal style and heading to the kitchen, trailing behind Yunho who was singing your favorite song.

Mingi placed you at the table, letting you watch the other one prepare plates. You were swinging your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better and humming the song with him. Mingi went back into the bedroom and came back with the ice cream tub to put into the fridge and sat next to you. He joked and sometimes said some nonsense to make you laugh and you giggled uncontrollably.

He could see the little you laughing with him in the classroom.

“You are finally mine, Y/n. The girl I adored and loved for all these years. The girl whose smile I love the most is smiling at me and sitting with me not as a friend but as my girlfriend.” He held your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m so happy that my bestfriend is my boyfriend and you are the one who can only annoy me and steal my snacks. Oh wait! You have to buy me more snacks now or I am breaking up with you.” You faked a shocked expression.

“Not sorry to disturb you but she is our girlfriend. My best supporter. Here comes the food.” Yunho swirled on his feet and placed the food dramatically on the table, having the silliest look on his face.

You screeched with laughter. “Yunho, my jealous baby.” He sat across from you and pushed the plates towards you both.

“Oh? Now I’m your baby. Last time I checked it was you who bought baby milk products. ” He grabbed his fork and pointed at you with squinted eyes as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a scoff at his antics and he raises an eyebrow at you, “I didn't. You were annoying me.”

“Oh…okay..now let’s talk less and eat more..”

You excitedly nodded and dug into the food. Their eyes followed your actions and they shared looks between them with little smiles appearing on their faces. They nodded towards each other and started eating the food with you.

And they promised to themselves that no matter what the situation is, they will always stay by your side. They still kept the friendship letter from you which you gave them for the first time during Christmas and they would always fulfill your wish.

‘Stay with me……always.’

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[reidsaurora]

hil! so im a little nervous to send this in and confused how exactly to request but im gonna try anyway

the summer celebration and the banner is so cute! could i please request for you to write a "Malibu Dream House - domestic!au" with Reid and fem!reader? Spencer and reader are expecting (unless you're uncomfy with pregnancy, then they can just be a couple that's moving) and relocating, buying a home together. and the team comes over for a house warming party during well obviously the summer! just like cute fluffy dynamics between everyone. Rossi is protecting the bbq like it’s his baby and ofc Ms. Penelope Garcia is excited at the possibilities of the couple’s future

i hope this isn’t too boring a request, and of course no pressure to write this, i just hope you’re having a good day and hope summer treats you well 🩵

hi, lovey! sorry this took so long! as usual, i don't have an excuse alshalsjsksh 💀 hope u enjoy though!

"With A Little Help From Our Friends" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Reader is feeling apprehensive about the end of her pregnancy, Spencer reminds her that really all you need is a little help from your friends.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1,846

Content Warning: pregnancy stuff, a little sexual humor at the end, food talk, small mention of a gun (this is CM after all), lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: it definitely didn't take me three different attempts to write something without scrapping it...

Originally Written: 07/23/2024 through 07/27/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (love u my editor 4 life)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration can be found here!

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Crashing Waves - angst requests -> Sun Kissed - fluff requests

To say the last couple months had been busy would've been an understatement.

Sure, when you and Spencer first saw that little blue plus sign, you went into full-blown parent mode. It started with some baby clothes, then some bottles, then the crib… But, entering the last trimester of your pregnancy, that's when things started to get real.

In the process of getting ready, you'd acquired enough things for a potential army of babies, making Spencer's apartment—originally intended for one resident—feel even tinier than the baby you were soon to birth. So what was Spencer's genius solution? Move into a new house, because he simply couldn't get rid of his baby's things before she'd even arrived.

And that was how you found yourselves heavily pregnant and moving into your new three-bedroom Cape Cod in the quiet town of Cabin John, Maryland. Perhaps you should've found somewhere that wouldn't require waiting until your eighth month of pregnancy to move in, but with its charming blue-and-white exterior and flower boxes on nearly every window, it was hard to say no to the place.

The last week had been spent moving everything in, not much thanks to you but thanks to your friends/colleagues of the BAU. Pretty much everyone had been in and out of your home over the week, but Spencer still insisted that the two of you should throw a housewarming party, and who were you to say no to that cute smile and big brown eyes? You only hoped your daughter wouldn't inherit them, or else you might just take that two letter word out of your vocabulary altogether.

Now you were here, in the kitchen supply aisle of the grocery store, contemplating what paper plates to use for the party.

“I really don't think anyone's going to care about the design, love,” Spencer attempted to reassure you. “Just so long as they aren't flimsy.”

Your pregnancy brain was basically ignoring him at this point though. “What if I buy the wrong ones and they think they're ugly?”

Spencer pouted, though he placed a supportive hand on your back. “How long have you known my colleagues? And how many times has someone said something mean about something so miniscule?”

“There was that one time Rossi said he didn't like that flower arrangement I put on the coffee table.”

“In his defense, he said they were the same colors that his second wife had at their wedding,” he explained, then chuckled. “He was probably just having some PTSD.”

Eventually, after a few more minutes of contemplation, you decided on the basic white ones, Spencer reassuring you all the while that they were perfect. Then, it was onto cutlery, which was just another thing for your brain to pick apart. You knew it was silly, truly, but you just couldn't get yourself out of your own head about even the most miniscule things.

On top of that, it seemed as though your husband hadn't missed your shift in behavior. Sometimes it sucked that he read people for a living.

“Honey,” he started, his tone sounding oddly like the word he'd just said, “are you sure this is about paper plates and plastic forks?”

Normally, you'd be able to put up a fight with your brain, push down the thoughts and explain later in the comfort of your home. But pregnant you was much different than regular you, and it only took that one question to have you tearing up.

You leaned into his shoulder, hoping to suppress the sounds of your cries. “What if I make all the wrong choices and the baby hates me?”

His lips met the crown of your head for a gentle kiss, followed by a soft sigh. “I promise she'll love you. You're going to be the most wonderful mother any little girl could ask for.”

“But what if I buy her the wrong diapers and she yells at me?”

Spencer gave you that signature pout, and a small swarm of butterflies set off in your belly. “I doubt she'll be that picky over them, but if she is, we just buy her new ones and make it better.”

You couldn't help but snicker through your tears. “I feel like that's awful advice, but I think I get what you mean.”

“C'mere,” he mumbled, pulling you in as closely as possible. Your bump had made it hard for hugs to happen, but that definitely didn't stop your husband from trying. “You're going to make a mistake or two. It's in our nature. I will most likely make a lot more than one or two mistakes-”

“Not true. You're gonna be the best dad in history.”

“And you will be the best mom in history. It's going to be a learning curve for all three of us. But, when they say ‘it takes a village,’ at least we know we have our village. JJ will be there to help with all your new mom questions and Hotch will be there to help me build her first treehouse. Kate will be there when she starts playing with makeup and we start to feel old.”

You giggled into his shoulder, earning you a small smile. “Penny will be there just to spoil her.”

“Emily will be there just to teach her how to flip someone off,” he snickered, the sound vibrating against your skin. Then, he was pulling you up for a long but sweet kiss, the taste of his morning coffee taking over your senses. “We've got this. You've got this.”

And instantly, you were feeling better. You knew Spencer knew magic, but sometimes you swore he was a wizard with the way he could change things just by saying one thing.

—

The second you pulled into the driveway, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Spence, why is the gate open?” You only hoped he had a reasonable explanation.

Unfortunately, his answer was not at all what you were hoping to hear. “I'm not sure. I don't think I left it open.”

Abandoning your party supplies in the car, the two of you headed toward the gate, Spencer insisting you and the baby stay behind him. As an FBI agent, he knew never to go anywhere without a gun, so luckily he at least had some way to protect you and himself if it came to that.

With one hand, he pushed open the cracked gate, the other lingering near his firearm just in case. The two of you quietly and slowly made your way into the backyard. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, it felt like it would jump right out of your ribcage. Spencer managed to remain his normal, calm self, but you couldn't say the same.

And then, just as you rounded the corner: “SURPRISE!”

Both you and Spencer nearly jumped out of your skin at the screams, though you both quickly realized what was going on.

Pink and white balloon arrangements, one table filled to the brim with gifts and another covered with various snack trays and drinks. If it wasn't clear this was a baby shower, the sea of people in pink outfits would've been the giveaway.

Penelope was first to greet you, her pink sundress bouncing as she practically ran to meet you. “You don't understand how hard it was to keep this from you,” she said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

Your arms flew around her neck, and hers wrapped around what they could of your stomach. “What is all this?” Now you were on the verge of tears with her.

“Papa Rossi wanted to throw you guys a shower and of course we had to surprise you.”

You let go of Penelope and turned to Rossi, wearing his normal attire, except for his normal white button-down had been replaced with a pink one. “Dave, you old softie!”

His arms wrapped around your neck for a small hug, and he left a peck to each of your cheeks. “I love you, kid, but don't call me old.”

You laughed as he let go, and immediately he walked over to the grill, like that was where he belonged. Then, you and Spencer were off to make the rounds.

Spencer wore the biggest smile you'd ever seen, aside from the one he had when you'd first shown him the pregnancy test. Even though you'd been with Spencer for nearly a decade, you still felt butterflies and goosebumps when he smiled, when he laughed, when he called you ‘love’.

“He's gonna be the best,” Penelope said, her eyes following yours.

You smiled before turning back to her. “Yeah, he really will.”

Just then, Luke and Spencer headed your way, Spencer moving to stand behind you. Immediately, you leaned into him, and he took your belly in his hands, relieving some of the pressure there. “Why were you staring?” he teased in your ear.

“I just think you're pretty,” you giggled, the sound like music to your husband's ears.

Luke snickered at the interaction, though he tossed an arm around his girl, giving Penny a quick kiss on the head. “By the way, you guys should have babies more often. This woman has been cooking enough to feed an army. She left like ten casseroles in the fridge for you guys.”

“Penelope,” Spencer gave her a soft look of something close to disapproval, though you knew he didn't mean it. “You didn't have to do that.”

“You and Mama are gonna need something to eat, and I know you guys are not going to feel like cooking after being up with a newborn all night.”

And it was time for another hug, the tears from earlier actually falling this time. You weren't sure what it was about pregnancy, but you'd realized it had made you awfully touchy. But you didn't care, especially today, when you were in the arms of some of your best friends.

“Hey, Penny,” Luke said as he watched the encounter, a tone of slyness to his words. “Maybe we should hop on the train next. Then you'll have a reason to make that breakfast casserole more often.”

She pulled away from the hug before turning to her boyfriend with probably the most serious look you'd ever seen her wear. “Luke Santiago Alvez, if you bring your man-juices anywhere near me, I will rip off your thingy and then feed it to you.”

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. Then, you turned to Spencer, who was just confused. “Did she just call it a thingy?”

“Did she just say man-juices?” His sentence elicited giggles from all four of you.

It was then that “With A Little Help From My Friends” by The Beatles started to play on the speaker, no doubt having been taken over by Hotch. But as the song played, you couldn't help but notice the sea of people all here for your baby. Sure, you were terrified. But you knew you'd get through it: with just a bit of help from your friends.

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @mmmeademaaa @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike @therealrazortai

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

[seeingivy]

sweet nothing

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: talks of grief, references to hidden inventory arc, satoru just being in love, megs + tsumiki babies

an: giving love to one of the best songs on midnights. also idk where I procured this emo at like 1 in the afternoon but here we are

--

You give him the book after the two of you settle Megumi and Tsumiki into bed, in the few minutes of peace you and Satoru get before you both nestle into your shared bed. You hike your knees to your chest as he picks it up, a confused look meeting yours when he reads the title. 

“On Grief and Giving?” 

“I took Miki and Megs to the bookstore today and I thought you might like it.” 

“A book about grief? I’m not grieving.” 

You look over at him - sparkling blue eyes rimmed with red, the usual sparkiness in his voice gone for the past few days, and no smothering, smushy cheek kisses every morning. You scoot over and he opens his arm up, tucking you into his side. 

You whisper the words against his neck, your hands placed on his body, tracing out the lines of his biceps. 

“He doesn’t have to be dead for you to be grieving him, Satoru. The person we knew is dead and the reaction is all the same.” you whisper. 

Satoru frowns, his hand going back and forth on your lower back. You know he hates it, when you try to talk about it. When anyone does. 

“Just read a few pages. See if it’s your thing or not, okay?” 

He looks into your eyes for a few seconds before nodding, pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. And when you leave to drop Tsumiki and Megumi off at school the next day, he reads the first page and promptly stops. 

Grief stays the same size. Life begins to grow around it. 

He thinks it’s stupid. 

--

from y/n 

you: don’t forget to bring strawberries home for froggy cake please!! 

satoru: okay love. anything else? 

you: that big fat ass 

satoru: got it :D 

you: you ruined it. 

Tomorrow marks two years since Tsumiki and Megumi have been staying with you. And of course, in your ultimate corniness, you’ve convinced all three of them to make a cake with you. And because you can never say no to Tsumiki and Megumi’s suggestions, you’re making a strawberry froggy cake. Because Tsumiki wants to try to make a little frog with frosting and Megumi just wants to eat the strawberries off the cake. 

He makes a mental note to drop by the store on the way home from his meeting with the higher ups and then his parents. Maybe buy some balloons or flowers or something to accompany the strawberries you asked for. He knows you said it was supposed to be a lowkey thing, just the four of you eating the cake together, but your annoyance doesn’t beat your surprised face, so he must. 

Satoru stops by the coffee shop first, making it a clear point to be late to his meeting with the higher ups for a very stupid reason, and gets a sugary caramel latte. He can hear your voice in his mind - berating him for picking something so sweet - but persists anyway. 

And as he leans against the counter, waiting for the cup with Satoru scribbled on the side, he takes in the shop, watching the people going around. He had never been too big on people watching, but it’s Tsumiki's favorite pass time at the park, pointing out people's silly outfits or how close and far they’re sitting away from each other. 

He spots two little girls, making little beaded bracelets in the far corner while their moms both nurse a warm cup of coffee in their hands. They have their hands wrapped around the porcelain, like they’re sequestering the heat from the glass. 

On the left, a young couple, nervously twiddling their fingers and cracking their knuckles as they make conversation - cheeks glazed pink and wobbly voices marking their conversation. They’re both dressed nicer than usual, clearly trying to impress each other. 

And in the far corner, leaning against the chair, is Suguru Getou. 

He nearly sprints to the other side of the shop when he sees him. Short hair, a man bun tucked neatly at the back with weirdly misshapen bangs and brown eyes. He can feel his heart racing, pounding even and the perspiration growing on his clenched fists as he moves closer. 

And when he reaches their table, standing way too close and looking straight into his eyes, he realizes that this is not Suguru Getou. Instead, a kid that bears far too much resemblance to him. But his eyes are rounder, his nose isn’t as pointy, and he is not a murderer. 

Satoru takes off and runs straight out the store, forgetting about his cup of coffee that’s getting cold in the pickup area.

--   

Yaga and the higher-ups' voices drone out in the back, as Satoru wracks his head. 

Why did he think that kid was Suguru? Suguru is dead. 

And it only now occurs to him, that for all intents and purposes, he really does think he’s dead. But he knows he isn't because Satoru let him walk free. Because he had to clench his fists and swallow hard to walk away the last time he saw him. 

But the man he knows is dead. Your voice is echoing in his head. 

“Satoru, are you paying attention?” 

“I mean, not really.” 

They all pinch their noses and groan, starting the lecture he’s sure they were giving him all over again. And it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

We want you to take more missions, there aren’t that many special grade sorcerers available. We want you to spend more time teaching, you're not doing enough. A long list of we want, we want, we want. 

And when the higher-ups trail out of the meeting, disdainful looks on their faces, he turns back to Yaga, who frowns at him. The question is on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to ask it. 

Do you ever think you ask too much of me?

He understands. He tries to. That he is the strongest sorcerer, that there’s no one like him. That he may have infinity, but he knows they forget the inner parts of him aren’t untouchable. That he’s still a person, that he’s still soft. 

Tsumiki’s shiny report cards make him beam with joy, fighting with Megumi keeps him up at night, and getting to hold you at night is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes. 

That sometimes the smell of blood never leaves his nose no matter how hard he scrubs in the shower, that when he sees a boy who looks like Suguru, the wound he thought he patched over feels like it’s freshly bleeding. 

But that doesn’t matter, because…

“You should be taking more missions. People are getting spread really thin.” Yaga says, clearing the dust off his desk. 

…Because he’s the strongest. 

--

As he drags his feet to the Gojo estate, he can’t help but survey the crowd as he walks there. Three girls with the same hair color as Getou, two boys with the same eye color, five people the exact same height, but none of them are Suguru Getou. 

When he reaches his parents house, pulling out the long black chairs he uncomfortably sat in for hours as a kid, his mind wanders even farther when they start talking. 

This time, he’s imagining. Daydreaming. What it would be like if he wasn’t the one gifted with the limitless and infinity. If jujutsu sorcery didn’t exist. 

That he’d have more time, be more free to do what he wanted. Make chocolate pancakes with you every morning, before the two of you walk together to drop off Megumi and Tsumiki to school. You’d work normal jobs - maybe he’d still be a teacher, a normal one - while you would do something that was entirely too impressive. Like saving lives or writing books or working at a non-profit. 

You would both go to Tsumiki’s first school dance together and take so many pictures that she’d walk away all embarrassed, red in the face. He’d go to every single one of Megumi’s baseball games, you’d both be the parents that are way too decked out, way too enthusiastic about their kid. 

Satoru would help you collect vinyls and when Tsumiki and Megumi were long gone and the two of you would put them on and dance in the kitchen humming. You’ll get wrinkles at the same time and your hair would gray so the two of you would look like pale-haired ghosts together. 

He zones back into what his parents were saying, their bored eyes glazed on him. And he doesn’t pay attention, because it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before. 

They want him to be around more, because he should know how to take over the estate. They want him to meet with other clans, so he can help them with other deals. A long list of they want, they want, they want. 

And he walks out, he wonders if his parents want the life he imagined for himself, the way he wants it for Megumi and Tsumiki. If that was the life Suguru would have lived, if things were different. 

--

When he makes it home, the sun is sinking into the sky against the house, the sky an array of golden hues. And when he pushes his key into the lock, he’s met with one smiling face and two grumpy faces. 

You march over, flicking Satoru’s cheek as he moves closer to you, grabbing onto your hands. 

“Those strawberries better be hidden in your pants or something.” 

He feels his face pale as he remembers that in the loop of things he’s been thinking about all day, he forgot to get the strawberries for froggy cake. And the balloons and flowers and everything else he wanted to give the three of you. 

“Satoru. We really wanted strawberry froggy cake.” you whine, reaching up to rest your hands on his face, squishing hard. 

He reaches for your wrists, pulling them down from his face and looking down at your joined hands. 

“Oh well, I’ll just go grab them with Megumi or something.” 

He watches you pad back into the kitchen, not even phased by his shortcoming, as you place a hand in Tsumiki’s hair. She’s very focused on frosting her little frog in the center of the cake, her eyebrows knit in concentration. He makes his way in, leaning over the counter as he intently watches the three of you. 

“What if we all go to the store and pick up strawberries?” you say, a hand resting in Megumi’s hair. 

Megumi directs off of you and to Satoru, glaring at him. 

“Did you seriously forget the one thing we wanted you to get?” 

“Megs, don’t be mean. It’s always fun to go to the store together!” you respond. 

“I’ll let you pick out anything you want, kid.” Satoru mentions. 

Megumi gives him a satisfied smile, hopping off his seat to go yank his shoes on. Tsumiki follows suit and you give Satoru a glowing smile as you drag the three of them out, hands intertwined as you go to the store. 

--

And at the end of the day, in the few minutes of peace the two of you get before the next day, Satoru’s staring at you, memorizing the curve of your nose and the shape of your eyes, and the way your hair falls against your face. 

You bring a hand up, cupping the side of his face as you whisper in the dark. 

“You okay, Toru?” 

“What do you want from me?” 

He watches you frown and pull back, your hand shaking against his face. 

“Are you mad at me, Satoru?” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, bringing you back closer. He’s resting his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth that gathers in the back of your neck on his hands. 

“No. No, no. I just…I want to know what you want from me.” 

He watches you scrunch your forehead, as you ponder the question. 

“I mean. I’d really like it if you didn’t leave the toilet seat up all the time.” 

He cracks a smile, rolling his eyes at you, as he reaches for your hand to bring your knuckles up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss, noticing the sweet smile that spreads across your face when he does, and drops your hand. 

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N.” 

“I mean. I’m not sure what you mean. It’s just small things, Toru. Like we should go on walks together sometimes in the evening, I think that would be nice. And we should watch all the Harry Potter movies together, like do a marathon and not sleep in between. And I’d really like a big diamond ring, circular cut, six pronged with a golden band.” 

Your hands, still resting against his face, are now meshed in with a spray of salty tears and a whimpering Satoru. You instinctively bring him forward, tucking his neck into your face as he cries into your shoulders. 

His tears are coating your neck as you run your hand through the white tresses of hair, whispering against his forehead. Imploring for what’s wrong. He doesn’t respond and the tears subside after a few minutes, his frame still shaking in your hold. 

“I’m not that attached to a golden wedding band, Satoru. I can do silver.” 

He laughs, pulling his face away from your neck to run his hands through your hair. 

“Gold is okay. I like gold.” 

“What’s wrong, Satoru? Tell me.” 

“Nothing. I just- that’s really all you want from me?” 

“I mean, yeah. What else would I want?” 

Satoru leans forward, pressing his lips against yours as he nearly cries into your face again, hanging off the ends of your lips. And you’re not sure what it means, what any of it means, but you let him - cry into your arms, hold you through the night, and make you breakfast the next morning. 

In truth, Satoru cherishes the fact that everyone may ask the world of him, but all you’ve ever wanted from him are sweet, sweet nothings. 

When you wake up the next morning, padding into the kitchen to make breakfast, you’re met with a box of strawberries, a sticky-note pressed on top. I love you, written in Satoru’s scribbly handwriting. 

Life has grown around Satoru’s grief. And it looks like you.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog  @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[thesuperiorrobin]

Untitled

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!reader

Word count: 1.0k

Warning: none

A/N: also reminder all my requests have been completely deleted after I had gotten a new phone. I’ll open up requests later I just don’t know when. I’m a bit disappointed in myself bc I didn’t get to them sooner. So again sorry if your requests won’t be done anytime soon.

You’re never the first to call.

Most of the time it’s Damian.

Damian needs something in his life that no one in his family could give him. They could, but it wouldn’t be the same if he got it from you. You’re in your room, it’s late. Too late where the streets of Gotham have gone silent—and that alone should say something. You're humming a song of your choice that plays in the background of your bedroom as you sew up a piece of your jacket that you had accidentally ripped when you were out during the day. The music cuts off as your phone beside you starts to ring. It’s a facetime call.

incoming call 🩷🗡️Damian🩷🗡️….:

You’re quick to answer it… pressing the green button as you propped up your phone up against a couple of books you had laying around on your small desk you sat at so he could get a better view of you. There’s a smile on your face when he shows up. I'm your view on the phone. He’s laying down on his bed looking tired and beaten. Damian had just gotten back from a night of patrol before he decided to call you.

“Hi!” You great, he greets you back with a quiet hello “what are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing” you hum as you focus back on your jacket.

“Well, my excuse is I took a nap— at like—I don’t know-five? Maybe six? Anyway I woke up not even an hour ago. So I’ll be up the entire night” you laugh at yourself softly “What about you? Why are you up?” He’s quiet for a moment, and that worries you. He says nothing for a few scones seconds, you look up and stare at your phone—staring at his reflection on the other side of your device. There’s something about him that you can’t read well. And that says something because you could usually read off his emotions based on his expression.

“Just got done with patrol” he finally speaks and you nod slowly “how was your day beloved?” A question that’s quick to get you.

Damian loves listening to you talk about your day, even if it was just you doing absolutely nothing. You are quick with your answer.

“I didn’t do much! I only went to the mall today with a friend and let me tell you—twenty-five dollars in this economy ain’t shit. I think I spend around one hundred dollars? I think and I only went to like three stores but I still have money left over. Also Victoria secret underwear is not for the weak at all. They’re cute but some of them are just eh—not made for wearing them all day—“ you stop yourself from saying anything else. You look at your phone to stare at Damian who says nothing. The more you look at him the more he looks exhausted.

“Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“Come over” a soft smile grazes your lips “‘my parents aren’t home. Away on a business trip or something like that”

“oh?” That seems to spike his interests “what’s the occasion?” You shrug as you think for a moment, your ripped jacket now forgotten and placed aside

“movie night? I was watching a scary movie on Max called Barbarian. I was watching it alone but ten minutes in I got scared” Damian let’s put a small laugh that warms your heart. He’s slowly coming down from whatever he was going through.

“So?”

“I’ll be there. Just give me a few minutes”

“yay. I’ll see you in a bit. My windows open so you can just come in whenever”

You say your goodbye before you hang up on each other.

When Damian finally comes round you’re in the kitchen standing in front of the microwave as you make popcorn. Too engrossed on your phone you don’t notice him until his reflection covers your screen. You're quick to turn around and greet him with a hug that lasts longer than usual. It had you wondering. It’s not until the sound of your microwave beeping, you two pull apart but not fully. Hands linger on his face longer, palms against his tan cheeks.

“You okay?” Softly, you ask and he nods against your hands—his own hands coming up and grasping yours bringing your palm closer to his lips. He kisses it softly before he nuzzles into them again.

“Yes, with you I’m always okay” you hum as you smile up at him.

“Okay….” The microwave beeps once more, a reminder that the popcorn is ready. You let go of Damian as you make your way towards it, opening it and taking out the hot and steaming bag. You place it on the counter as you go and retrieve a bowl.

“You can go sit on the couch if you want” you say dumping the popcorn into the bowl

“I’ll be there in a minute” he nods but you can’t see, you hear his footsteps disappear as he walks away. You spot Damian sitting on the couch waiting patiently, there’s no expression on his face as he stares blankly at your T.V. A frown paints your lips as you walk up to him and hand him the popcorn—he doesn’t say a word as he takes it from your hand and watches as you search for the remote. When you do find it you sit next to him draping a blanket that was placed over the arm of the couch. There’s a static silence between the two of you as you search for the movie. Damian drapes his arm over your shoulder—leaning down onto you.

“Tired?” You laugh slightly—hand coming up to ruffle his black hair as you press play on the movie. He shakes his head

“No. I’m never tired” he smiles

“Okay, whatever you say” rolling your eyes playfully you lean closer to him. The popcorn was now in your hands, placed on your lap. Damian arms were wrapped around you protectively. You two to engrossed in the movie you were watching

Damian was always okay. He just missed you. Today was the first time he’s been over your house in the past six months and talking to you through the phone wasn’t doing any justice to him. Missing you kinda gives him a home sick-y feeling.

Also I recommend watching Barbarian on MAX. It’s not really a jump scare kind of horror movie. It’s more like an uneasy kind of movie. 10/10. Although I do have to give a warning bc there is blood and gore and also mentions of rape and incest.

[helloalycia]

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: when Jackie surprises you with a kiss, you're excited at the possibility of what it could mean, only to discover she's got back together with her boyfriend the next day.

warning/s: implied internalised homophobia i suppose?

author's note: and here’s the third and final part - i hope you liked this one, loved writing for jackie 🥰 i have amother jackie one done and another in the works bc apparently i was super inspired recently lol, and i’ve also got some other stuff in progress. But the next thing I post is gonna be an alycia debnam carey imagine (gotta stick to my roots haha)

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

I groaned inwardly as I looked all around the darkroom, my locker and my school bag for my lens cap, but I just couldn't seem to find it. That's when I wondered if it could be in the bleachers on the soccer pitch – maybe it fell out of my pocket when I was shooting recently.

Like the lazy girl I was, I went outside with tunnel vision, immediately searching the bleachers for my lens cap, but I still couldn't find it. As I paused, looking up for a moment to think, I realised someone was on the pitch, and upon closer inspection at the waving figure, I realised it was Jackie. Huh.

When I climbed down from the bleachers, she jogged over to me with a confused expression, but smiling nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly, a little sweaty from practice, and it was annoying because she still managed to look good.

"I lost my lens cap for my camera," I said with a sigh. "The last place I remember having it is here."

Her fingers played with her bottom lip as she glanced around. "Oh. That's annoying. Erm..."

"It's fine," I said, not wanting her to worry herself over it when it was my problem. "I'm just having a look around, but I don't think it's here. Might pick up a new one from the camera store. Anyway, what are you doing out here? Where's the team?"

At this, she rested her hands on her hips. "No practice on today, but I wanted to have some me time. Thought I'd put in some extra practice. I've finished now anyway."

I quirked a brow. "Isn't Shauna usually your lift? How you getting home?"

"Shauna is helping her parents with something," she said, before flashing me her signature smirk. "I was planning to flirt with some sophomores and get a ride."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Of course you were."

She winked playfully and, though I didn't doubt she could find some desperate sophomore to give her a ride, I couldn't just let her do that. Besides, it seemed she was getting lifts off me a lot lately, so what was one more to add to the list?

"I'm done in the dark room if you need a ride," I offered.

"Oh, I wasn't hinting at anything," she said, giving me a genuine smile, but I shook my head.

"I know, but still. I don't mind."

Appreciative, she nodded. "Thanks. Do I have time to shower?"

"You have all the time in world, darling," I said as I looked around. "I am still yet to find my lens cap."

She stifled a chuckle. "Good luck with that. I'll go clean up. Meet you at your car?"

I hummed in agreement, already mentally retracing my steps with my camera, and she left me to it. After spending half an hour more searching all around for my lens cap, I finally gave up and went to sulk in my car. It wasn't actually a big deal, especially because I could just buy a new one after dropping Jackie off, but it was the inconvenience of it all.

Not long after I got in my car, Jackie joined me, tossing her backpack in the backseat before sliding into the passenger's seat. Looking refreshed, she shot me a smile.

"So, where to?" she asked, pulling her seatbelt on.

"Your house?" I replied, thinking it was obvious.

"But I thought you wanted to get your lens cap from the store," she said with confusion. "Oh, wait, did you find it?"

As I started the car, I said, "I didn't, but it's fine. I can drop you off home."

"I don't mind going," she said, leaning her elbow on the door. "It's on the way anyway."

"You sure?"

She hummed in agreement, so I drove us straight to the camera store, knowing I wouldn't be long. Luckily, it was still open for the day, and when we headed inside, she immediately began to wander around the small store, intrigued by the cameras on display.

I began to talk to the shopkeeper about my lens size and what camera I had, hoping he had a replacement cap I could buy, and then he left to have a look in the back.

"Y/N, there's a photo booth!" Jackie suddenly called as I was waiting for the shopkeeper to return.

"Yep," I acknowledged, having seen it a million times so not sure what the hype was.

"We have to use it, c'mon!" she pleaded, already grabbing my hand.

I rolled my eyes, having gotten used to Jackie so much that I knew to just go with the flow at this point. She was grinning as she looked at the button and money slot.

"It's fifty cents," she realised, before elbowing me in the gut as she rushed to find some coins in her pocket. Eventually she pulled out a quarter and looked at me. "You got another quarter?"

"I guess? I don't–"

"Look!" she encouraged, and I grumbled to myself as I dug around in my own pocket, managing to pull out a quarter. Before I could even offer it her, she grabbed it from my hand and put both of them in the machine.

After fiddling around, a manual timer ticked to signal the first photo was going to be taken, so Jackie moved closer to me to fit in the lens.

"Smile!" she said, and I had no choice but to listen.

The photo was taken and, just as quickly, the next timer was going off.

"Funny face!" she instructed immediately, before pulling one of her own.

I rushed to stick out my tongue, managing to do bunny ears behind her head without realising, and then the final timer was ticking.

"Okay, a kiss on the cheek for the grand finale," she said with amusement, and because we'd been so rushed up until now, I didn't really think to question who was kissing who.

As the last tick went off before the photo, I turned to kiss her cheek, but she must have done the same, because for a brief moment, our lips touched and then the photo was taken. Embarrassed, I quickly pulled away, as did she.

"Sorry," we both blurted at the same time, and suddenly this photo booth felt too small.

"Y/N?" the shopkeeper called, and I was grateful for the interruption as I stepped out the photo booth and saw he was back at the counter. "Got your lens cap. This should fit like a glove."

I swallowed thickly as I approached the counter, acutely aware of Jackie stood behind me, looking as awkward as I felt. After paying the shopkeeper, the two of us left and returned to the car.

"Er, did you want the photos or–" Jackie started to ask when we got in the car, holding the strip that the machine gave her.

"It's okay, you really wanted them," I said quickly, before distracting myself with starting the car.

To say the car ride home was awkward was an understatement, even with the radio filling the silence. I wasn't sure why, since we both knew the poor attempt of a kiss was an accident, but my fear was that I'd made her feel uncomfortable. It was the last thing I'd wanted, but I couldn't bring myself to speak, and neither could she.

I barely got chance to put my parking brake on when she got out the car and avoided my eyes.

"Thanks for the ride," she muttered, before walking up the long path to her mansion of a home.

I would have left it there, but it felt wrong to, and then I noticed she'd left her backpack in the backseat, so I called her from the open window and grabbed the bag. Jumping out the car, I jogged to meet her halfway, glad she'd stopped.

"You forgot your bag," I said, holding it out to her, and she accepted it, expressionless but staring holes into my face.

Knowing I couldn't leave it like this, I started, "Jackie, what's–"

But she cut me off instantly – and to my surprise – with a kiss. I stumbled back as she grabbed my face, kissing me with such intensity that it took me a second to realise that Jackie fucking Taylor was kissing me. And she was really good at it.

I closed my eyes, reciprocating the kiss, breathing in every part of her floral perfume, tasting every bit of her strawberry lipgloss. There was a second where we paused to take in a breath, but she closed it just as quickly, desperate and sudden and surprising.

Finally she pulled back, and then as if realising what she'd done, her hands let go of my face and she avoided eye contact like I'd make her go blind.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly, before spinning around and speed walking to her front door.

"Wait, Jackie–!"

But she fumbled for her keys and was already at her front door, not bothering to turn around. I swallowed hard, my lips still tingling from the sensation of hers, and went back to my car. Did that really just happen?

All night I was thinking about it, replaying the afternoon in my mind. She'd made me question a lot about my feelings for her in the past, and at one point, I was certain I was just projecting onto her – maybe that flirting was just who she was? But no, it had to be real, because she'd just made out with me on her own accord, and I liked it. I'd liked her, sure, but she'd always been unattainable to me for obvious reasons.

Well, until now.

The next day at school, I was hoping I could talk to Jackie about everything properly, maybe get some clarification on what she was thinking. So, you can imagine my surprise when I walked past her in the hall and saw her standing with Jeff, her supposed-to-be ex-boyfriend, leaning on his shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around her.

As soon as I saw them together, my heart dropped, the surprise easily replaced by humiliation. God, how could I have ever thought Jackie Taylor and I could be a thing? Was I stupid?

Turning to walk a different way, I fought back the urge to cry, feeling used and stupid and like an absolute fool for thinking yesterday was anything special.

"Hey, Y/N, wait," Jackie suddenly called, and then she stopped before me with apologetic eyes. "I didn't–"

"So you're back with Jeff, huh?" I got straight to the point, glaring at her.

She avoided my eyes and nodded weakly.

I scoffed, feeling much better hiding behind my anger than my sadness. "Why did you even do it, Jackie? Why d'you kiss me?"

She frowned. "I don't know."

The longer she avoided my stare, the more upset I became. How dare she do all of this, make me fall for her, force herself into my life, only to throw it back in my face.

"Just wanted to test it out?" I muttered bitterly. "Kissing a girl?"

She winced. "No, it wasn't like that."

"Then what?" I asked, searching her expression for a clue, but she refused to answer, either not having the words or not wanting to upset me anymore. Too late for that. "You should figure your shit out," I said harshly. "And don't speak to me again."

Finally, she looked up, but I was already leaving, ignoring when she called my name. I should've known she'd go back to him, she always did.

Fuck Jackie Taylor.

It was impossible to avoid her and Jeff over the next few days, since they were in a lot of my classes and always on the way to my locker, but I tried my darn best to.

Unfortunately for me, I was out grocery shopping with my mum when I spotted a familiar blonde head of hair further down the aisle from us, standing with her best friend. I was hoping if we stayed put long enough, they'd just keep going and we wouldn't bump into them, but my mum, who was oblivious to our falling out, spotted Jackie instantly.

"Oh, Y/N, your friend is here," she pointed out, and before I could tell her to keep it down, she started to call out Jackie's name, earning her attention.

"Mum, no!" I whisper-shouted, but it was too late because Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

I considered walking away, finding somewhere else to busy myself, but my mum would have just found a reason to make it a big deal, so I stayed put and kept quiet.

"Hey, Y/M/N," Jackie greeted my mum in her usual chirpy voice, before I felt her looking at me. "Hey, Y/N."

I ignored her, suddenly interested by the handlebar of the trolley.

"Jackie, it's so great to see you again," my mum said, genuinely happy to chat with her, since the soccer player had made quite the impression on her. "And your friend, it's Shauna, right?"

"It is, it's great to meet you," Shauna greeted her kindly before shooting me a smile. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey," I mumbled, giving her a quick smile before looking at the bananas on display.

"You know, it's a good thing I bumped into you," my mum said to them, particularly Jackie. "I wanted to thank you again for your help at the fundraiser! We raised over five thousand dollars!"

"That's amazing," Jackie said with disbelief. "I didn't know."

At this, my mum glanced at me questioningly. "Didn't you tell her, hon?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Must've forgotten."

"Oh, Y/N," my mum scolded lightheartedly as Jackie looked away uncomfortably.

She continued to talk the girls' ears off before finally realising she was holding everyone up and saying her goodbyes. Taking the trolley from me, she began to push it forward and I was about to follow, but Jackie suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Y/N–"

I pulled my arm from her grasp, not bothering to meet her gaze. "Don't you have a soccer game to practice for or something?"

She didn't reply, and I rejoined my mum's side, remaining quiet for the rest of the trip. Why couldn't Jackie just leave me alone?

I was making notes in my English workbook as the teacher continued to explain the variations and development of children's language AKA the topic of our next assignment.

"...and I think that, just like children, students like Jackie Taylor can't seem to focus when they're supposed to be," Mr. Collins suddenly said, pulling me from my focus. "Miss Taylor, is there something particularly fascinating about the back of Miss Y/L/N's head?"

A few students giggled to themselves as I flushed with embarrassment, too afraid to turn around to see what he was talking about, though it was pretty self explanatory.

Jackie cleared her throat, embarrassed. "Of course not, sir. Sorry. Continue."

"Thank you," he said sarcastically, before continuing to read through his presentation, but my face was still flaming and I was unable to focus for the rest of class now, aware of the hazel eyes staring a hole in my back.

God, she was seriously not helping with this whole getting over her thing.

About a week after the whole Jackie thing, I unfortunately couldn't seem to avoid her forever as I had to take photos at the Yellowjackets' away game. I told myself I'd just do my job and be gone to avoid any awkwardness, but of course, that couldn't happen.

The game happened to be at East Rutherford High which wasn't a big deal, but as I was setting up my camera on the side of the pitch before the game, Olivia found me.

"Y/N, hey!" she called, and I turned around before remembering she went here.

"Liv, hey," I said with a smile, before hugging her. "I totally forgot you go here. Big soccer fan?"

She chuckled. "Not really. But my friends are so I said I'd come watch. Don't know why we bother though, the Yellowjackets always kick our arses."

I tried not to laugh because it was true. "Way to support your team."

"As a school, we've kind of accepted our defeat," she joked, before nodding to my camera. "You're taking photos for the paper, right?"

I nodded, letting my camera hang from my neck. "That's right."

"Your photos are always so good," she complimented, and I was surprised she'd seen them, so she clarified, "Sometimes our school paper look at examples of nearby schools and whenever they show us yours, I always see your photographs."

I smiled with embarrassment, though touched that she'd noticed. "Thanks, Liv, that means a lot."

She shrugged. "Just stating the truth." She paused, glancing out at the pitch as the players started to file out. "Surprised your friend, Jackie, isn't here. Didn't think she'd like me talking to you."

At this, I grew embarrassed for a different reason. "Yeah, look, I'm sorry if she was standoffish with you last time. I didn't–"

"I'm teasing," she assured me, trying not to laugh. "But it's all good. I should go find my seat anyway."

I sighed, nodding, and she smiled sweetly at me before leaving. Rubbing my face, I tried to push any thoughts of the soccer captain out of my head, hating that she was still being mentioned even when she wasn't here.

Instead, I focused my efforts on photographing the game, actually quite enjoying that it was an evening match so the lowlight gave me something to practice with. During half time, Olivia stopped by again and I welcomed it, enjoying getting to know her a little more. She was actually really chill to hang out with, but Jackie's words were still in my head about her 'textbook flirting'. Either way, Olivia was fun.

It was a given that the Yellowjackets would win, and after the game ended and I snapped some celebratory pictures, I moved to the side of the pitch to pack up my things. Olivia approached me again and I smiled.

"Great game, huh?" she said with amusement.

"Always is when the Yellowjackets play," I said playfully, and she raised her brows with mock disbelief.

"Wow, you're already starting the soccer war? That's low, Y/N," she said, making me laugh.

"Gotta support the home team," I said with a shrug. "Especially when they're that good."

She rolled her eyes, suppressing her smile. "Yeah, yeah..." As I shouldered my camera bag, she asked, "You heading off now?"

"That's the plan," I said with a tired sigh. "Why? Aren't you?"

She locked eyes with me, smiling softly. "I was going to ask if you're free to hang right now. Could grab some food or something?"

"Oh," I said, realising she was asking me out. "I– erm–"

It sounded fun, and why couldn't I enjoy a dinner with a cute girl? Smile forming on my lips, I was about to agree, but then the devil's spawn herself decided to appear.

"There you are," Jackie said, looking to me, either oblivious to my annoyance or choosing to ignore it.

"Didn't take long," Olivia mumbled to herself, but I heard it. Clearing her throat, she said to me, "I'm gonna guess you're busy tonight?"

"Oh, there's an after game party," Jackie answered for me, making me clench my jaw. "Kind of a tradition."

Olivia forced a smile. "Right."

"I never go anyway," I said quickly, earning her attention, and receiving a glare from Jackie who I so desperately wished would leave. "I can–"

"The others are asking if you'll go tonight actually," Jackie interrupted, flashing a sickly sweet smile at me.

If looks could kill, she'd be toast right now. Who the hell did she think she was to step in right now? She'd shown me how she felt – she didn't have a right to do this.

"Never mind," Olivia said, already backing up. "Enjoy."

Losing my glare, I looked to Olivia, ready to apologise, but she'd already walked off to join her friends and I knew I'd only make it worse.

"Huh, I was right," Jackie mumbled to herself, which reminded me she was still standing there and very much the reason Olivia hated me now.

"What the hell d'you do that for?!" I shouted at her.

She raised her brows, feigning confusion. "Do what?"

I clenched my fists with frustration. "No! You don't just get to do that!"

She shook her head. "What?"

I scowled, looking between her eyes with annoyance. "Care. You led me on. Used me as– I don't even know what! Some sort of rebound? An experiment? Either way, it was horrible, and now you don't get to just come in and stop me from accepting dates. You're nothing to me, Jackie."

As I spoke, she began to frown, only serving to piss me off further. How could she act like the victim right now? I was the one who'd been played!

"I didn't use you," she said weakly, but I could only step back and fix her with a glare.

"Leave me alone," I warned her once more, not bothering to stay behind to see what she'd say.

The weekend passed and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of Jackie the whole time. I wished I'd never found her crying after her breakup with Jeff because then I wouldn't have felt the need to check on her and she wouldn't have felt the need to be my friend. My life was a whole lot easier when she wasn't in it, and yet I still couldn't stop thinking of her. She was bad for me, so why did I still care about her?

I hadn't seen her since the game on Friday night, and despite the fact that she'd literally humiliated me, I still felt guilty for shouting at her. I wasn't someone who got angry easily, but truthfully, it wasn't anger. My heart hurt and who else to take it out on than the girl who broke it?

It was foolish of me to even feel that way, since we weren't anything. She'd never said she cared about me as more than a friend, she hadn't really done anything out of the ordinary except kiss me, which had clearly been a mistake. Her flirtatious behaviour was just typical Jackie. I knew what I was getting myself into. I guess this whole thing was my fault in a way.

Trying to take my mind off it, I stayed back after school to start putting my end of year portfolio together for photography class. I was grateful that nobody else was here, needing the quiet to simply get lost in my school work and nothing else.

I was considering some photographs on the desk when the sound of the door opening startled me. Nobody was supposed to be here, but when I turned around, my surprise faded into irritation at the sight of Jackie.

"Okay, seriously, do you need me to sing it you?" I asked with disbelief. "Write it down? Get a fucking sky writer?! Leave me alone, Jackie!"

"Wait," she said quickly, closing the door behind her and letting herself in, making me groan. "Please, I just– I have something to say."

I rolled my eyes, looking back to my photos with hopes she'd get the hint. "What? You finally figure your shit out?"

It was sarcastic, so I definitely didn't expect her to say, "Yeah. I broke up with Jeff."

My brows knitted together with confusion when I looked to her again. "You what?"

She licked her lips, grateful for the relief in tension. "After the game on Friday. I ended it."

I was certainly shocked to hear that she'd done that, but I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. Crossing my arms, I tried to appear indifferent. "So what?"

She exhaled softly, steadily approaching me until she was stood right in front of me. Her hazel eyes, looking brown as they met mine, held my gaze with determination.

"You weren't an experiment," she said guiltily. "You weren't a rebound either. I never meant to hurt you, Y/N."

I frowned, eyes flickering between hers. Both my frustration and distress were building up because she seemed to be telling the truth, and it wasn't fair. She still did it. She broke my heart.

"Then what?" I asked, hands trembling. "How else can it seem when you–" I paused, glancing at the classroom door which was closed. Still, I lowered my voice for her sake. "When you kissed me – which, by the way, you initiated – then, before I can even discuss it with you, you get back together with your boyfriend? How?!"

She frowned, shaking her head as she looked down to her hands. "It was horrible, I know. You have to know how much I regret it."

"Gee, thanks," I said bitterly, and she was quick to look up again, worried.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant," she explained. "I regret getting back together with Jeff, not kissing you. I– I liked that a lot." She was unusually nervous, swallowing visibly. "I like you."

My heart was confused as I studied her expression, seeing nothing but honesty.

"I should've said something," she admitted. "I didn't know that I'd fall for you, Y/N. I've never even liked a girl. Especially not one who's so sure of herself."

I scoffed, meeting her confused look with a knowing one. "Seriously? You're Jackie fucking Taylor, the most confident girl in school."

"Not always," she said with a wince. "Clearly."

I watched her, struggling to accept what she was saying.

"I understand if you hate me," she said, straightening up and meeting my gaze with a solemn one. "And I'll truly leave you alone, as you wish. Just say the word."

I pressed my lips together, seeing the serious expression on her face. I couldn't just say the word, because no matter how hard I'd tried to hate her, I just couldn't. All I'd really wanted was for her to like me, too.

She stood patiently, probably would have stood there for the rest of the day, waiting for me to speak. And I hated it because she'd hurt me deeply, but now I understood why. And even after everything, I still wanted her.

"Y/N?"

For once, I stopped overthinking and just kissed her, eyes closing when my lips met hers. She breathed out and lifted her hand to rest on my neck, pulling me closer and sending shivers down my spine at the contact. It was desperate, I was aware, but I couldn't get enough of her taste, her floral scent reminding me of last time, the adrenaline rush.

Without meaning to, her back hit her the desk behind her, but other than a brief readjustment, we continued to make out, my head spinning with thoughts of how good she felt so close to me. Stupid pretty girls and their stupid pretty faces.

We pulled apart for air, but I didn't let go of her just yet. My heart was thumping in my chest as I caught my breath, lips tingling as they craved for hers yet again.

"I really like you too," I said without thinking, eyes flickering to hers. "That's why it stung when you did what you did. Why I was so angry."

She nodded slowly in understanding. "I'm sorry."

I sighed, closing my eyes as I tried to collect my thoughts, but it was pretty damn difficult when she was still invading every sense of mine and I welcomed it.

"I don't know how I can trust you," I admitted, opening my eyes and being met with her determined expression.

"You can," she promised.

"What if you decide you don't want this anymore?" I asked, not wanting to doubt her feelings, but not prepared to start something that could end in heartbreak. "What if you think you've made a mistake? Start to miss Jeff? Then what, Jackie?"

"That won't happen," she said with certainty, thumb stroking my cheek.

"But it could."

She frowned, eyes boring into mine as if trying to make me understand. Finally, she said, "I'll spend forever proving you wrong."

I got lost in her eyes, so full of conviction that I had no choice but to believe her. Maybe some things were worth the risk. She certainly was.

"I'd love to see that," I said after a moment, an attempt at a joke.

She paused, trying to digest my words, and then she cracked a small smile.

"I forgive you," I told her. "I know how hard it can be to admit your feelings to yourself, especially for the first time."

She was hopeful, and I was suddenly overcome with an excitement because Jackie Taylor was stood in my arms, telling me she liked me, and I wasn't dreaming.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked, making me smile.

A simple nod and then she captured my bottom lip between hers, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter a storm. Unlike before, this kiss was slower than the others, more considerate, and I knew then and there that I'd never get sick of her lips.

She pulled away after leaving me breathless, her eyes half lidded when they looked from my lips to my eyes. "How was that for proving you wrong?"

I let out a breathy chuckle, admittedly a little flustered. "It's a start."

A smug smile appeared on her lips and then she was kissing me again, laughing as she did.

Lil bonus scene:

This was the least peppiest pep rally I'd ever been to, producing the worst photos I could take because everybody looked bored. As the principal made a speech about how 'good' the baseball team were doing this year, I snapped a few photos but ultimately sat bored in the front row. Everybody was much more excited for the star of the show – the Yellowjackets.

And after what felt like forever, the school band began to play their instruments and the soccer team began making their way in. Like a switch had been flipped, all the students in the bleachers stood up, cheering and applauding and celebrating their favourite sports team.

A much better subject, I began to photograph the crowd, all dressed in the bright yellow and blue school colours, waving signs and beaming with painted faces. And then my focus shifted to the team themselves, who were lining up before the crowd, grins on their faces. Despite the principal trying to calm everyone down so he could make his speech about how great they were doing, nobody would listen, still cheering on the team.

As I was snapping photos of them all, Jackie caught my eye and a playful smirk was on her lips when she winked at me. Even after the month we'd been together so far, she still left me nervous sometimes, thought I'd accepted that was what came with dating someone as self-assured as Jackie Taylor. We hadn't broadcasted our relationship by any means, but students at school weren't stupid and they were beginning to put it together. I didn't mind though, and I hoped she didn't either.

Finally, the principal managed to quieten everyone down long enough to make a speech worth listening to, expressing his pride in the Yellowjackets and wishing them luck as they prepared for the game tomorrow which would determine whether they'd make it to nationals.

After he finished, the band played them out, along with the audience's cheering, and then everybody began to leave. I was one of the last few to go, making my way out of the sports hall, only to be pulled to the side suddenly, realising Jackie had been waiting for me.

"Someone took their time," she said impatiently, crossing her arms, now wearing her varsity jacket over her soccer uniform.

"Someone was doing their job," I reminded her with a smile, wiggling my camera in the air.

At this, she quirked a brow. "You got my good side, right?"

I laughed. "Jackie Taylor doesn't have a bad side. She knows it too."

She began to smile, flicking her hair in agreement, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"You look cute with your face paint on," I told her, referring to the little yellow jacket painted on her cheek.

"It's called school pride," she said, before giving me a disapproving look. "You didn't dress up."

"Again, I was busy photographing everything," I said, raising my camera for emphasis.

"Well, we can't have that," she said, tutting, and then she pulled off her varsity jacket and attempted to wrap it around me, but I stopped her.

"Wait," I said, realising what she was doing.

"What?"

I stared at her knowingly. "It's your jacket."

"Duh."

"Yeah," I agreed in a matter-of-fact tone, "but–"

"I'm giving it to you," she said simply, confused when I wouldn't put my arms in it as she held it open.

"You can't," I said, wondering if she was playing dumb or what.

She furrowed her brows. "What? Why?"

I amended my comment, "I mean, yeah, you can, but you know that people will put two and two together, right? You give me that and it'll be, like, an actual confirmation to everyone that we're dating."

Still, she wasn't following as she stared with raised brows. "Okay? And...?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. "You don't mind?"

Finally catching on to why I was questioning her, she relaxed and lowered the jacket momentarily. "That's sweet of you to ask, but no, I don't mind." She paused, before glancing at me worriedly. "Wait, do you?"

I sighed, before an amused smile formed on my lips. "No, I don't. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to."

Her expression softened, smile appearing on her lips and matching the sparkle in her eyes. "I want to. Now, come here."

This time, I let her help me into her jacket, immediately engulfed in her scent and warmth and not minding in the slightest. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork, eyes looking me up and down for several seconds too long and leaving me with a warm face.

"I should've given you this sooner," she said, impressed, and I rolled my eyes at her pride.

She chuckled before pulling me in for a quick kiss, and then we walked hand in hand down the hallway.

"You know that this means you have to be my number one fan now, right?" she asked, giving me a sideways glance.

I tried not to laugh as I said, "But I already supported the team–"

"No, not the team's fan," she cut me off nonchalantly, "mine. Me. Player number nine."

At her dead serious expression, I began to chuckle quietly. "Nine. My new favourite number, darling."

A smile crept on her lips. "Good."

[herejusttosufferalong]

I've started and deleted this sentence several times now and don't really know how to begin. So let's just go for it and say seriously WHAT THE FUCK has been the last 6 months!? My mind is a clusterfuck rn. I love L and N but they are seriously debilitating. Like I've been see-sawing between casual nonchalance about everything saying "haha this is great ride, what's next in store?" to just confused exasperation and emotional fatigue. I don't even know these people, and yet I am so fucking invested. This has never happened to me. They are like a drug. Seriously, whatever they are selling, I will buy 10 of everything, pump it into my veins. Why is my kink now seeing them get married, have kids and L be a stay-at-home daddy while N rules the fucking world?! N, alone, has me questioning my sexuality. Then I remember L is there, and I go oh yeah him too. Them is my sexuality. It's so messy. Anyway, now to the point of this. I had some flashbacks while watching L's Loewe Vogue video today. Watching his groomer give him a lovely face and head massage instantly transported me to Ireland with the infamous forehead stroke. Honestly, imo, the biggest turning point of the whole tour. So much happened before this time, but I really do think this moment was critical. I will outline why.

Obviously, Ireland was a massive deal for N. The excitement of getting back home and meeting family and friends, the amazing reception, it was special. She talked ad nauseam about her mum meeting L and honestly all I could think was when has anyone been excited/nervous about their parents meeting just a friend? You feel that certain way because you're wanting approval, you're wanting them to feel the same way you do about that person and welcome them into the family, as it were. I've never felt that way with friends, but I had done with my boyfriend (now husband). But maybe that's just me? L didn't seem as caught up in it, like almost trying to downplay a lot of her ott excitement. I also noticed that they were less touchy feely overall compared to earlier on in the trip, which was so unhinged honestly, I didn't know what to do with myself. But then came the moment. I don't think enough people have broken this moment down. So the interviewer asks the question, that's been asked oh so many times, "was it easier or harder to do the intimacy scenes with a friend?" And N looks at L and thinks to herself, he has a hair out of place on his forehead, I'm going to reach out and stroke his forehead right in the middle of this god damn interview. Not once, but a few times, like her little hand was built to stroke that man's face. Now, tbf, she does ask permission but also tbf her hand is already at his face before he can answer a whispered, guttural, "mhmm". He leans in, we loose L for a bit there, then he comes back saying "ok" like you probably got that hair now, think we should stop now. And her going into 'mother' mode telling him to turn his head, good boy. And his little worried face when it's over. And them talking about how N just can't stop picking hairs off people on set. Mmm ok. If they were in Regency outfits, I would be expecting a mirror scene next up. But you might say to me, well shit like this has happened countless times, it's just another thing. Well, I say no, this time was different. They both knew they had crossed a line, publicly, her initiation, his reaction. Because they were strange as hell at the London premiere. He avoided her gaze. She visibly stopped herself from touching him. One occasion, I saw her reach out to his arm or back, and she looked behind him (I think where their teams were?), and immediately pulled her arm back. The first moment she was asked about people shipping Lukola she had a pre-prepared speech ready to go to explain the head stroke. It was forced. A lot of what she said seemed so rehearsed, and although, I'm certain N does think a lot about what she is going to say in interviews, usually she is very natural about it and let's it flow. That lady was stressed and making a point that L is just a 'bud'. The lady doth protest to much, methinks. She's seen everything we've typed about her and L's behaviour during the tour, so why start over-explaining and defending behaviour now? She was STRESSED. That was the overt, obvious, stop yourself type of behaviour, and yet we still saw SOME of that unconscious stuff seep through, like him searching for her hand, her looking up at him like a God, her stroking his thumb with hers while holding hands (seriously, why was that SO intimate to me?). Point being, you can't fake that stuff, the repression and release. The unconscious behaviour. They knew something was rumbling. Or at least, N did. My opinion is that they have not acted on those rumblings, because if they had, it would be OVER. Electric. Power surge. Goodnight. Pack your bags and goodbye. We might not even exist anymore, tbh. But I shall wait over here and keep eating all the crumbs I can get. (I am sooo sorry about the length of whatever this is, thank you much the same, it was so nice to vent).

OKay but like I kinda fuckin love you anon...

I had the biggest smile on my face reading this.

There is so much to unpack here. We will have to chat sometime.

LOVE x

[hockybish]

Fluffy Ava and Jack

Their Bookstore

l Nightingale Au l Jack x Ava l masterlist l

"Remind me of the rules again?" Ava asked.

It was Jack's turn to plan date night. He chose a relatively low key restaurant. The place they usually go to when they didn't want the possibility of any of Jack's crazy fans to find them.

And then Jack drove them to their favorite go to bookstore. It was a small space with two stories, pack to the brim with book. Everything from new books to older first editions.

After most of their dates they will end up at the store, picking out a book or two to add to their collections. This time Jack a little bit of a different idea in mind.

"We get thirty minutes to complete the checklist and then meet in by the two lumpy chairs in the corner." Jack reminded her as he pulled into a parking space across from the store with the good candy.

"And what those tasks?"

"A cookbook with a recipe for next date night, a book about the place we should travel one back, a book our parents read to us as kids, and a book we really want to read" Jack smiled grabbing Ava's, guiding her safely across the way to the store.

"Do we have thirty minutes? I thought they closed in ten?" Ava frowned, checking her watch. They usually had to speed on through, taking their books home to read while they were tangled together on the couch.

"About that, I um, paid Georgie to stay open a little an hour longer for just us." He admitted. Ava smiled, reaching over to peck Jack on the cheek, giving her approval for the second half of their date.

They got in the store and hung their coats up on the rack by the door. Jack gave Georgie the store owner a little nod and set the timer. He held up three finger, counting down one two three and they were off.

Ava quickly ran upstairs to the children's section grabbing Norma Jean, Jumping Bean while Jack started in the cooking section selecting From Crook to Cook because how could a cookbook by Snoop Dogg be any good?

Once the timer sounded the couple found themselves in the back corner sitting in their favorite cozy chairs, exchanging their selections.

"Oh my god, why did you choose this book?" Ava laughed holding up The Perfect Couple.

"We watched the show, and I wanted to to compare the book to the show." Jack shrugged he was thumbing through the book on Italy Ava choose. "And because I knew you'd want to read it, so I figured we could read it together since I read all your books anyways."

"Awe you're too cute Babe!" She leafed through it quickly before she snagged the Italy book Jack was looking at, replacing it with one she had. "Start reading it to me?"

Jack couldn't resist his girlfriend's request. The hockey player got comfy, cleared his throat and started at the beginning. Ava's smiled got even bigger. She moved her chair as close to Jack's as possible. She leaned over and place her head on his shoulder.

An hour later, Jack was still reading the book, only to himself now. He had dogeared the spot he left off reading aloud since Ava nos was dropped over his lap, softly snoring. She had fallen asleep like twenty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry Jack, I've got to close the store now. It's late." Georgie finished with his organizing and stocking. It was around eleven pm, he just wanted to lock up and go home.

He didn't want to wake her, although he hadn't been there, he knew she hadn't been sleeping well, and now that she was, he wanted to let her for as long as she could

"Do you trust me?" Jack came up with an idea on the fly. "Leave the keys, when Av wakes up we'll leave. I promise no funny business."

"Fine. No funny business, I have cameras you know." The old man tossed the keys to Jack and winked at his favorite customers

[ladamedusoif]

A Cup of Kindness, Yet

Part of the Pickled Peña Writing Challenge

(Challenge graphics and images by @musings-of-a-rose and @trulybetty - thank you!)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 2191

Warnings: Alcohol; smoking; strong language (it’s Javi); post-S3 of Narcos; no physical descriptions of Reader; no use of Y/N. 

Rating: Teen

Summary: Another Auld Lang Syne in Laredo, two decades after you last saw in a new year with Javier.

A/N: My submission for the Pickled Peña Writing Challenge organised by @goodwithcheese and the rest of the @pickled-pena collective - thank you for organising this event, everyone! I can't wait to read all the different submissions for these really challenging prompts, and hope you enjoy my contribution.

(PS: if you enjoy this story please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications - I'm also on AO3.)

“Well? What do you think?”

She twirls around in a black velvet dress, its long sleeves sprinkled with little rhinestones. You have to hand it to her - for a widow in her sixties, your mom still knows how to do glamour. 

It’s a pity the same can’t be said for her daughter. You’ve been schlubbing around the house all throughout the holidays in sweatpants, slouch socks, and your oversized college sweatshirt: the perfect “so your fiancé dumped you just before the holidays” cliche. 

“You look great, mom. You always do.”

She casts an eye over your attire, your messy hair, your bare face. “You could get dressed and come with me, you know. Might meet someone new? You never know on New Year’s Eve…”

You roll your eyes. “Mom, if you think I’m going to meet the love of my life on New Year’s Eve in Laredo - correction, in Laredo at the community dance - then have I got a bridge to sell you. You’re likely to be one of the hot young things there, going on the usual crowd it attracts.”

She swats at you with her black clutch. “I beg your pardon? I am one of the hot young things.” A final check in the mirror, a final pat to her perfectly-lacquered blow dry.

“All I’m saying is, you never know.”

“And all I’m saying is, this year I’m sticking to my New Year’s resolution: no more men.”

***

“Alright, pop. Have a good time - and no making out with girls down by the river!”

Chucho Peña shakes his head and smiles as he gets out of Javier’s truck, parked outside the community centre. “A pity you won’t join us, mijo,” the older man says, placing his stetson on his head. “You could do with the company.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m fine, pop. You go and enjoy yourself. You know I don’t like New Year’s, anyway.”

He doesn’t. He never really did. As a kid he liked watching the countdown on TV with his parents and extended family, as a teen the last day of the year became a competition to find someone to make out with as the clock struck midnight. (Javi always excelled.)

But there was always something uncomfortable about the event, something that preyed on the melancholy aspects of his character. Maybe it was the forced celebrations, or the strangeness of marking the passing of time, or the pressure to be someone new - someone better - in the new year ahead. 

He’d been trying to be someone new for years, now. He never succeeded.

Back at the ranch, he flips idly through the TV channels and finds nothing to watch. A rumble in his tummy has him peering into the cold light of the refrigerator, confronted with a few cold cuts, cheese, and a half-eaten jar of pickles that’s been there forever. A solitary bottle of beer lurks on the refrigerator door. 

“Fuck this.”

He grabs his jacket and keys and heads for his truck.

***

The cashier rings up your two bottles of wine and places them in a plastic carrier bag. They’re young, probably not much older than sixteen, and their New Year’s Eve shift at the convenience store clearly isn’t setting their world alight. 

“Havin’ a party, huh,” they mumble as they hand you the bag. 

“Oh yeah,” you respond in a tone dripping with sarcasm, unable to keep your sass-mouth in check. “I’m having a huge party, with my two bottles of cheap Californian white.”

“Just makin’ conversation, lady. Y’all have a good night at your wine party, or whatever.”

You huff as you shove the plastic bag on the passenger seat and hop into your car, still rolling your eyes in misplaced frustration at the young cashier. You knew you were in the wrong, taking your heartbreak and loneliness out on a spotty kid working minimum wage. For a moment, you consider driving to a bar, seeking some sort of solace in the company of strangers.

But every bar in town would be celebrating, you remind yourself. The last thing you want is to ring in the new year being felt up by someone’s greasy uncle in an ill-fitting denim shirt and bolo tie, reeking of cheap whiskey. 

In that moment, the yellow glow emanating from the signage over the branch of Danny’s Restaurant, across the street, catches your eye like a beacon. 

Perfect.

***

Javier’s truck pulls into the parking lot of the convenience store, pausing to let a woman driving a beat-up compact pass on her way out. He’s got his heart set on a half-pounder and fries from Danny’s - extra pickles, extra mayo - but wants to pick up some beers and cigarettes first, to keep him going for the rest of the night.

The cashier rings up his six-pack and Marlboros, sighing as they place them in a bag. “Havin’ a party, huh,” the kid mutters, barely making eye contact with their customer.

“Pretty mean party, just a six-pack and a box of smokes,” Javier responds.

The kid stares up at him. “Whatever. Smokin’s bad for you, anyway.”

Javier wheels around as he exits the store. “I know. Don’t care. Quitting’s my New Year’s resolution so I gotta make the most of them tonight.”

***

“So that’s a Danny’s Special, hold the pickles, extra lettuce, and a Diet Coke?”

You nod up at the waitress and hand her the menu with a smile. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window of the restaurant, and for a moment you don’t recognise the woman you see.

When did you get so old, you wonder? Where did you - or at least, the you that used to be - go? 

Still, at least you’d put on some 501s, a fresh white scoop neck top, and a long-line cardigan for your first venture outside your family home in several days. Sure, it might just be for a trip to the convenience store and Danny’s, but even you had standards.

The waitress returns with your drink and the usual complimentary tray of chips and salsa. The restaurant is probably a little quieter than usual for this time of the evening: a couple of families in booths here and there, a few lone diners at the counter. As you nibble idly on the chips, you half-notice a dark-haired man coming through the door a little after you, placing his order quickly at the counter before he’s even been seated. 

It was just what you were after: no countdowns, no forced merriment, no crowds, but just enough hum and background noise to break up the silence that otherwise awaited you. 

“One Danny’s special.”

You thank the waitress and sigh with anticipation as you lift your burger, take your first bite, and find your mouth filled with the overpowering taste of pickles.

***

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Uh, I think my order got mixed up - I asked for no pickles, and this burger has…”

You become aware of the dark-haired man signalling to another staff member behind the counter, pointing at his burger in much the same way as you. 

There’s something familiar about him - about his body language, his profile, the way he carries himself. 

And then it hits you.

“Javi?”

***

How long has it been? Twenty years? Twenty-five?

No matter the number, when the shock of recognition has the power to jolt you back through time like this. Back to another New Year’s Eve, someone’s shitty house party, most of your senior year classmates wasted on cheap beer and tequila. Still an hour or two before midnight and already the party has split into two camps: the lovers, making out on every conceivable surface, and the fighters, yelling and screeching and walking off.

And then there were those who combined both roles, whose loving felt a lot like fighting and vice versa. 

Like Lorraine and Javi.

In your mind's eye, you're back in the upstairs hallway of that house, wearing your new flared jeans and ditsy print blouse and picking your way over classmates and half-drunk plastic cups of beer as you seek out the bathroom. 

A couple is rowing in one of the bedrooms, the door ajar enough for you to be able to peek in. 

You know you shouldn’t, but…

“You’re such a dick, Javi! You know what you did!”

Ah. Lorraine and Javi. Lovers and fighters.

“You stand there and accuse me, Lorraine, but where were you at the time?”

Lorraine tosses her perfect blonde hair indignantly.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. Fuck you, Javier.”

She doesn’t even notice you as she flounces out of the room. Same as it ever was. You’d always had a tendency to blend into the background. 

Javi notices you, though. “Did you enjoy the show?”

You step around the door and look in at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you guys were pretty loud…”

He’s got his back to you as he sits on the side of the bed, impossibly broad in his tight, striped shirt. 

You wander into the room and closer to him, emboldened by a couple of weak beers. “Are you okay?”

His dark eyes look into yours in surprise, as if he’s unused to being asked the question.

“I guess… it’s just - ah, fuck it. She seems to think I’m always cheating on her - and I’m not, I swear - but won’t explain why she’s gotta spend so much time ‘revising’ with other guys.”

“Maybe she’s just helping them prepare for the SATs?”

He looks at you, and you notice the sadness in his eyes. “Maybe. I dunno. She shouldn’t go off on me about this stuff, though.” He takes a swig from a bottle of beer and exhales. “Fuckin’ hate New Year’s.”

“Me too.” 

He huffs a laugh and smiles at you. “I’m in good company, then.”

You see in the new year sitting side by side on the back porch, sharing a small bottle of cheap bourbon and swapping stories about your plans for the future, your hopes and dreams.

Javier Peña tells you he’s going to change the world.

And then school starts again, and Lorraine and Javi make up, and that’s the last time you talk to him other than a mumbled “Hi” in the hallway now and again. 

Until tonight.

***

He slides into the seat opposite you and shakes his head with a smile. “All these years, and it took a mix-up about pickles to bring us back together again.”

You shrug, taking in the man he had become: handsome, charming, cool, even, but with the same lingering sadness haunting those beautiful eyes. 

“Of all the family restaurants in all of Texas,” you offer.

“You had to walk into mine,” he responds, taking the bait. “Or into this branch of Danny’s, at least.”

You tilt your head to look at him. “What’s a hero doing alone on New Year’s Eve, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not a hero. And don’t you remember? I don’t like New Year’s. Fuckin’ hate it, in fact. Told you that, all those years ago.”

“You did, didn’t you?” 

The waitress returns carrying your two freshly-prepared, correct orders and a large helping of apologies. “We’ll be sure to bring you over some more chips, too, and the drinks are on the house.”

Javier clinks his glass off yours. “Maybe this year is looking up already. What about you, anyway - what brings you back home?”

“My fiancé dumped me four days before Christmas,” you explain, dipping a French fry into a pot of chipotle mayo. “So what else is a girl to do but run home to mama, legal career or no legal career?”

“Fuck, that’s rough.” Javier seems genuinely sympathetic. He takes a bite of his burger and chews it thoughtfully. “So no New Year’s parties for you either, huh?”

You shake your head. “I would rather be dipped in boiling oil.”

He laughs, revealing the crinkles around his eyes that only serve to make him even more handsome as he enters middle age. Why do these little signs of ageing always look good on men, you wonder, but make a woman feel like she’s failed?

“Would you be opposed to a party for two?” he asks quietly. “Theme is: Fuck New Year’s.”

You grin. “Just like old times. Count me in.”

***

You hear the bells of San Agustín ringing in the new year from the back porch of your mother’s house. Javier clinks his whiskey tumbler off your glass of white wine. 

“A happy fuck new year’s to you.”

“And a happy fuck new year’s to you, too. You got any resolutions, Javi?”

He takes a long, satisfying drag on his cigarette before handing it to you. “Quit smoking. You?”

“No more men. Think you’ll stick to it?”

He raises an eyebrow at your resolution and smiles as he looks out into the night. “We’ll see. Hearing good things about those nicotine patches.” And then those penetrating, sad eyes are on you. “What about you? Think you’ll stick to your resolution?”

You meet his gaze and give him a knowing smile. “We’ll see. Might find someone worth breaking it for.”

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Zhongli X Chubby Baker Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: Kidnapping, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

5AM; it was time to wake up and start your work day as a baker in Liyue! Bakeries are the best way to start the day in Liyue, the varieties of baked goods and with the combo of a tea to start the day there’s nothing better here! You were one of those bakers that worked at a popular bakery owned by your uncle. The staff was all related to you in some way, but unlike them you were a little more on the heavy side. You always joked that it’s because you have a bond with your bread and that’s why it tastes so good!

It was around 6AM when one of your siblings and a cousin came in for their shift at the counter. Your sibling yawned before saying good morning and your cousin started putting on their uniform. There weren't many people in the morning time but some people take freshness seriously so there were a couple of regulars. One of them being a tall man with an otherworldly aura around him at times. Zhongli was his name and when he saw you he always tried to make conversation with you. Of course you didn't think too much of it, that’s how regulars are after all.

It was one particular morning where you stepped outside the store to take a break, another baker was on staff so you could afford it. It was when you noticed the tall figure getting closer. “Oh [y/n] I don’t see you out like this often,” he says. “Yeah, just feeling the heat of the oven more than usual this time,” you said with a smile. “Is something bothering you?” You blushed, he got it right on the nose. “Actually, my parents have been nagging me on finding a spouse soon.” The man in the brown formalwear twitched slightly, “is that so?” “But I spend all my time focusing on the shop that I just don’t think about anything else you know?” “I see.”

You sighed deeply, “hey, maybe you can help me find a spouse. You seem to know a lot of people. Got anyone looking to date?” Zhongli stiffened before a smile came across his face, “well, I’m single, maybe I can interest you in dinner sometime?” You looked at him slightly bewildered. There was no way that a man with the caliber of Zhongli who’s got it all in looks and knowledge is asking you in all your fluff right? Is it a joke? “You can’t joke with me like that Zhongli,” you said with a light hearted laugh. A dangerous glint came over the man’s eyes before disappearing as fast as it came. “I’ve been meaning to treat you out to dinner anyway, as friends?” You looked back at him, “that sounds good!” “Are you free tonight?”

Later that night you were over at Zhongli’s place of residence. Apparently, he was a great chef too! “Wow Zhongli, you’re a man of many talents,” you praise him after the two of you had dinner. “Thank you, I also happen to be a man of many secrets,” he said with a straight face. You didn’t know if you were tired from work today or if it was the food coma but you were getting drowsy. “Um, I should probably get going,” you stumbled a little to get up from your chair. “Oh my, are you okay?” “I–”

Everything went black and the next time you woke up you were on a bed in a windowless room that just looked like any other room but you were shackled to the bed. “I see you are awake,” Zhongli said with a smile as he entered the room. “Is this a prank?” You asked, a bit shaken. “Of course not my love,” he sat on the edge of the bed looking at you with clear obsession in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?” “It’s because…!” He yelled suddenly causing you to flinch. “You were about to go to someone else,” he grabbed your wrist, “and I won’t let you. You’re mine.” “L-let’s talk about this!” His face darkened, “the time for talking is over. You had your chance.”

[dwaynes-leather-jacket]

Ch. 1 Misty Boardwalks And Vampires, Oh My!

Dwayne x Fem!Reader

Chapter Index

[A/N]: So sorry it's taken so long! Life has been hectic and left me mentally drained, but I managed to get back on track with my creativity!

A few days had passed since then, and I couldn’t help but stare out my bedroom window as the mist once again rolled in, forgetting all about the book I’d been reading.

I don’t know what came over me, but I just had to go back to that boardwalk. I grabbed my jacket and walked around the house, making sure everyone was asleep before grabbing my keys and sneaking out through the back door.

For a moment, I contemplated going back home, but if I was going to get in trouble, I wanted it to be for something good, so I dragged myself to the boardwalk whilst being wary of my surroundings.

As per usual, the boardwalk was swamped with locals and tourists alike in the moonlight, enjoying the music, rides, and everything else the boardwalk had to offer to the night owls.

I smiled to myself a little as I looked at the lights glowing beautifully around me. It wasn’t often I came here, much less alone, to really get a feel for the place.

I walked around a while before deciding to check out the music, which wasn’t much my style but I still watched from a distance before deciding to go check out some stalls nearby until I saw a book in a shop that caught my eye.

I made my way into the store, grateful I brought my purse with me afterall and walked over to where I’d seen the book.

I hummed as I approached said book, picking it up to examine it and check out the first few pages.

“Ah, a book nerd, huh?” A male voice spoke and I looked up to see one of the blond boys from the other night, I think his name was Paul. He was currently leaning with an arm agains the shelf and the other against the wall, caging me in.

“Not really. I’m pretty picky.” I replied and put the book back, having lost interest in it, and ducked under his arms to walk past him to browse another section.

He frowned. “Hey, what’s the rush? Dont’cha wanna have some fun?” He teased with a playful smirk.

“With you? No thanks. You’re not my type, no offense.” I replied in a flat tone and continued my search for a decent book.

Paul hung his head in defeat. “I bet you’re no fun anyway.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing. I do know how to have fun, I’m just awfully certain you and I have different views as to what is fun.” I commented and rolled my eyes as he pouted and walked away.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself but not forgetting my goal of finding that boy and a new book.

That’s when I glanced down and found a good copy of Dracula and reached to grab it, only to have ended up brushing hands with someone and quickly retracted my hand.

“I’m sorry.” I stuttered an apology only to realize it was Dwayne and froze immediately, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

“Horror fan, huh?” He asked with a shy smile.

I nodded. “Uh, yeah. A little.” I replied shakily.

He handed the book to me. “You can have it if you’d like.”

I reached to grab it, only for him to yank it back.

I looked at him in surprise, only to see a devilish look in his eyes.

“On one condition.” He smirked.

“What is it?” I asked curiously with a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Hang out with me for tonight.” He replied calmly.

Oh was he so much more handsome up close, and his voice so soothing.

I contemplated for a moment before agreeing. “Okay, but I can’t stay too long. I sort of snuck out and need to be back before my parents notice I’m gone.” I replied and took the book from him.

“Ah, so you do have a bit of rebel blood in you?” He teased with a chuckle.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see for yourself, huh? Dwayne, was it?” I replied with a playful smirk of my own.

He nodded. “Yup, that’s me. Now, what about your name?” He asked as we walked towards the register so I could pay.

“Oh, right. I’m _____.” I commented and handed the book to the cashier and opened my purse to grab my wallet.

“I got it.” Dwayne spoke up and paid for the book.

I looked at him with wide eyes. “You really didn’t have to do that.” I panicked a little and handed him the money I was going to use to pay for the book.

“I’m not taking your money. Consider it a late Christmas gift from your new friend, okay?” He raised an eyebrow in response and handed me the bag with the book.

I stood there puzzled for a minute and took the bag. “Thank you.” I mumbled shyly and looked away from him.

“No problem, now come on so we can have some real fun.” He nodded towards the door and walked out while I blindly followed behind him.

We walked out onto the boardwalk, surrounded by rambunctious teens and the occasional black-market dealer trying to sell off some stolen piece of jewelry to passers-by.

“So, what brings you back here?” Dwayne asked whilst peeking over his shoulder at me, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Honestly, I just needed the air and didn’t know where else to go.” I lied and looked around at the scenery, my eyes lingering on a roller coaster a little longer than it should have.

This obviously caught Dwayne’s attention and he smirked.

“Wanna get on? I’ll go with you.” He asked and watched the ride with me.

I watched the ride a bit longer before deciding I wanted to try it. “I’ll try it.” I replied and looked at him, only to see him already walking towards the line.

“Come on, slowpoke!” He called out with a chuckle.

I smiled a little and ran after him. “Oh what a cheater. You waited until I was distracted.” I nudged him playfully, to which he feigned hurt.

“It’s not my fault you zone out easily.” He teased and nudged me back, leaning against the rails.

I opened my mouth to say something but was stopped when he dragged me towards the front of the line and got us on the rollercoaster without any issues, surprisingly enough.

Once we got on the ride and it began, I gulped as the cart went uphill and overlooked the ocean, taking in not only the beauty of the moonlit water, but just how high we were as well.

Dwayne, seemingly noticing my nervousness, grabbed my hand. “Relax, I've been here more times than I can count. I’ve never had a problem.” He spoke in reassurance right before our cart tipped over the edge and sent us flying down the rails.

I let out a startled shriek, holding his hand tightly while he let out a hearty yell, followed by a deep laugh.

“Aww come on, don’t be like that.” He chuckled when we got off the ride. “You’re the one who wanted to get on.” He teased with a playful smirk gracing his lips.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect it to be that intense!” I replied as I walked towards a bench shakily, my legs feeling like jello.

“You don’t get out much do you?” He quirked an eyebrow; a mischievous glint in his dark eyes reflecting the shining lights from the surrounding rides and lamp posts.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I uh, don’t really like going out all that much anymore.” I responded and looked towards the ocean, desperately wanting to forget what had happened that made me terrified of being outside.

Dwayne nodded, catching on that it was a touchy subject and taking a seat beside me. Neither of us spoke for a short while, we simply sat in silence, enjoying each other's company.

“Hey, you ever ride a motorcycle before?” He turned to look at me in amusement. His arm was resting on the back rest of the bench.

“No, why?” I replied rather worriedly.

“Would you like to?” He asked with a devilish grin, a grin that only seemed to pull me in further as I looked into his eyes.

Every nerve in my body screamed not to, but my heart and gut were telling me otherwise.

Besides, if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done so by now.

I contemplated his offer once more, letting out a heavy sigh as I made up my mind.

“Maybe another time. I should probably head back home.” I smiled softly at him and got up, checking my watch in the process.

My eyes widened in shock. “It’s 2am, they’re gonna kill me if I’m not home soon.” I muttered and looked up, meeting Dwayne’s gaze.

“I could get you there pronto on my bike.” He smirked proudly, adjusting his jacket in a rather cool fashion.

“Well, since you insist.” I caved in and followed him to his bike where his friends were goofing off.

“I’ll be right back. I’m giving ____ a ride home.” He informed the crew and started his bike.

“Looks like you owe me $20 boys.” David chuckled, extending his hand towards Paul and Marco, who hissed and let out an “Aw man!”

Dwayne seemed amused enough and extended a hand towards me. “Alright, hop on.”

I gulped nervously and took his hand to climb onto the back of the bike.

“ See ya later, ____.” David chuckled and put out his cigarette on the ground.

“Bye.” I muttered and clutched on to Dwayne’s jacket.

“Hang on.” Dwayne smirked and revved the bike as we started on our way.

~~

Next

Tag List: @noodle81937

[film-bro-hotch]

I'll Cowboy the Best - Hotch x Fem!Reader - one shot

I have been working on this one for a little bit, but it has been so fun. This is 100% self-indulgent (like most of my stuff), but I really hope you all like it. I have to give credit where credit is due, though, because I used to despise the holidays. It wasn't until living with @honeypiehotchner that I have maybe started to like them a little. What was supposed to be a funny cowboy!Hotch fic has now turned into a Holiday Season cowboy!Hotch fic. Thanks, K. The month of December is a bit more tolerable because of you ;)

Synopsis: You are visiting family on their Texas farm for the holidays and decide it's time your boyfriend meet your parents. One of your problems, though, is that your family isn't too fond of him. There is nearly a 10 year age gap between the two of you, and worst of all, he is your boss. Hotch is determined to make them like him, even if that means saddling up and playing the part of a cowboy.

Warnings: This is an age-gap relationship, but these two are both consenting adults. Reader is near 30 - we don't do that huge age gap stuff. Also there are discussions about the inherent power dynamics between you and Hotch with him as your boss. But mostly this is fluff! This is a happy story!

WC: 8.2k

Find me a horse that I can cover Find me some stars to sleep under Find me a train, I’ll hop out west If she wants a cowboy, I’ll cowboy the best

You watched his hand flex as he gripped the wheel a little bit tighter. Usually this kind of behavior was reserved for when you were in a high-speed chase trying to catch an unsub and Hotch was about to pull some stupid move and drift an SUV in a way that it certainly wasn’t made to do. 

But that wasn’t the case. You were on day two of your trip down to visit family, and you had switched off drivers a few hours ago. You had offered to drive the rest of the way since you knew the town, but Hotch insisted for some reason you couldn’t quite figure out yet. Driving instead of flying was your idea in the first place anyway. 

He looked less than enthused, but you somehow managed to talk him into it. You only had about 30 minutes before you were supposed to make it to your family’s Texas ranch, and he seemed to be getting more stressed by the minute. 

“Aaron, are you good? You’ve been tense for the past hour, and we aren’t on a crowded interstate.” Truth be told, you had only passed maybe 5 other cars in that time.

“I’m okay, really. I’m just…a little nervous.”

It was something that you hadn’t really thought of. It would make sense, though. Meeting the parents was something nerve-wracking anyway, but Hotch probably hadn’t had to do it since high school. And your parents were already…not exactly thrilled with him. He was almost ten years older than you, and he was your boss. Both your mom and your dad were quick to point out the implications, and the trouble both of you could get into for dating. You had mostly brushed it off, changed the subject or made an excuse to hang up the phone, but being there for the holidays made it much more difficult to ignore. 

You were gentle as you placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb along his muscle. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Once they get to know you, they are going to love you just as much as I do.”

He played off a laugh and muttered, “Well I hope not that much,” to which you promptly slapped the arm you had just been caressing. 

“You know what I meant,” you said with a pointed gaze, but that smirk on your face let him know you weren’t actually mad. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful, the majority of your scenery being flat, snow-covered farmland and the occasional herd of cows. Your family’s ranch was one of the closer ones to town, meaning that it was still a good 20 minutes to any store. You could tell that Hotch was analyzing everything as they entered the driveway, committing all of it to memory. The driveway was still gravel, the familiar sound of tires crushing and compacting the rocks and snow beneath settled your nerves a little. The house you grew up in was the exact same as the day you left to move to Virginia. A one story brick home, classic white shutters and a porch that looked like it needed to be restained. Your mother had her Christmas lights on the porch, though it was more because she never took them down than her getting into the holiday spirit. 

The farm was mostly corn, some pole beans and cucumbers planted throughout to help with the soil, though none of that was planted now with the cold. The other half of the land was grazing for the cows, goats, and chickens, and a small barn kept the few horses your parents still had around. 

“You didn’t tell me it was a farm,” he said with a cocked eyebrow. You might have fibbed a little and just said you lived on a lot of land growing up, which wasn’t untrue. 

“You never asked,” you said simply. You were already out of the car before he could say anything more. It was the perfect kind of cold outside. Just a little nippy to wake you up, but no harsh wind feeling like it was cutting your cheeks open. You had only grabbed one bag of your luggage when you heard the screen door open, followed by quick steps on the gravel as your mother called your name. She pulled you into a hug, kissing the side of your head and then your cheek. 

“It is so good to see you! I was just telling your daddy, I can’t believe the two of you drove all the way here!” she said. You looked over at Aaron, offering him an encouraging smile.

It didn’t last too long, though. You hadn’t even heard the screen door open, but your dad had found his way outside at some point and was leaning against the porch railing. “He could have easily bought y'all tickets.” So this was how the trip was starting. 

Aaron may have had so much experience with confrontation, but you could still see his tells, his little ticks that gave away his nerves. Usually his shoulders were relaxed and he stood at his full height. You could see the tension even through his winter coat. He was slouching a little, perhaps bringing himself a bit lower. Even with that, he towered over your dad. You were about to defend him, tell your dad it was your idea, but Aaron spoke first, talking as he walked over to your dad.

“Good thing we didn’t fly. That front coming in has delayed or canceled almost every flight out of D.C. Besides, I wouldn’t want to hassle you with having to pick us up at the airport,” he started, offering his hand to shake. “Aaron Hotchner.”

Your dad wasn’t the most cheery person anyway, but you could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled at having Aaron here. He did, however, pride himself on being a gentleman, so he shook his hand. “Curtis L/N. Good to finally meet you in person.”

“You too. Y/N has told me so much about you and your wife. I’m curious to see how much of what she told me is true.” He was taking a risky move joking like that, but at the very least it got a huff out of your dad, which was better than the blank stare you would get sometimes when you made a joke. 

“Come on, let’s get inside! I don’t want to freeze my ass off,” you said, earning a look of disapproval from your mother for the curse, but the two of you grabbed the bags from the car and followed the men inside. 

Your mother, being the gracious host she always had to be, left the bags by the door and pointed down the hall. “Now at the very end is the spare bedroom that you can sleep in, Aaron. It’s got a little bathroom attached to it,” she then turned to look at you, “you can just use our bathroom, sweetie.” Oh, you should have expected this. You knew your parents were traditional, so of course there was no way they were going to let you share a room with him unless you had his last name. 

While you loved your parents and were happy to see them after living in D.C. for so long, you were quite tired, and there was only so much of them you could take. “Thanks, mom, but I think Aaron and I are pretty tired. We’ve been driving all day, so we might turn in a little early.” You look at Hotch, expecting him to agree, but he seemed quite determined to get your parents to like him. 

“I can stay up and talk a little longer,” he started, but your dad was already waving his hand dismissively.

“I’m usually out like a light before 8:00. I ain’t got much socializing left in me today,” he said, to which Aaron gave a quick nod, wished your parents good night, and went to the guest bedroom. If you were able to follow him, you would joke that your dad sounded a little like him. He may pull late nights at the BAU, but if he could keep from socializing, he would.

You may have been in your childhood bedroom, but you found it incredibly hard to sleep that night. Perhaps it was because you had been away so long that the place felt foreign to you now. Maybe it was the anxiety of your parent’s approval, or maybe it was the fear that after meeting your family, Hotch wouldn’t want to stay in the relationship. You chastised yourself for that one. You knew it was a stupid thought. You grabbed the phone on your nightstand, deciding to text him.

Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t get to share a room. We wouldn’t have been able to get away with anything with that squeaky mattress. I can hear you every time you turn

His reply was quick, almost like he had been debating texting you as well. I feel like I’m sixteen again.

I told you I would make you feel younger

Not exactly the way I thought you would do it.

You stared at the message for a moment, knowing he probably felt some of the same anxieties, which was saying something considering Aaron Hotchner was not an anxious person. You should go ahead and get some sleep. They will probably be up early working

I love you.

I love you too

—

You woke up the next morning a little earlier than you usually would have, though you attributed it to the fact that you went to bed pretty early, and you were dealing with a time change, so it was really closer to 9:00 back home. You could smell breakfast in the kitchen, likely cooked a while ago and your mother left it out for you to reheat whenever you got up. When you walked out, you could see the door to the guest room open, but when you peeked inside, Hotch wasn’t there.

Going down the hall to the kitchen, he wasn’t in there either. You went about your business, fixing a plate of eggs, bacon, biscuits with gravy, and a little bit of grits. Coffee had been brewed probably an hour ago, but you fixed yourself a cup, stirring in sugar and cream before heading outside to the porch where you knew your parents were probably sitting and drinking their coffee. They had probably already worked this morning, feeding the cows and chickens and horses.

It was still cold, but most of the snow had melted, and your dad had put heaters by the porch for this very reason. Your mom does this every morning and still complains that it’s cold, so I had to fix something, he had said to you on the phone one night. A heater didn’t sound too bad right then.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” you heard the moment the screen door creaked open.

“Morning,” you replied, taking the rocking chair on the other side of your mother, “Have you seen Aaron this morning?”

“He went out into town a little bit ago. Said he forgot a couple things and needed to run to the store. I’m having him pick up some more Folgers while he’s out,” she said, cradling her vintage coffee mug in her hand with a smug smile. You know that partly why she missed you was because she missed sending someone else into town. But what could Aaron have possibly missed? He was so particular when it came to packing. He had lists for his lists, and he went over everything with a fine-toothed comb. 

You were about halfway through your breakfast and cup of coffee when you heard the sound of tires against the gravel. You cradled your cup, watching as Aaron stepped out of the car, going to the back and picking up a few grocery bags, a hand behind his back. He swiftly moved up the steps to the porch, kissing your cheek and whispering, “Morning.” He revealed his arm and handed a bouquet of flowers, blue hydrangeas mixed with baby’s breath. The second bouquet he handed to your mother along with a comically large red tin. “I didn’t forget about you. Sunflowers and a value-sized Folgers classic roast for you.” You knew what he was doing, and it was totally working on your mom.

“Aaron, you shouldn’t have,” she said as she took the flowers, inspecting each petal carefully.

“In the Christmas spirit already, St. Nick?” you teased, looking up at him from behind your mug. He had a half grin on his face, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Maybe for some people,” he joked dryly.

He made his way inside, presumably to go about putting the groceries away.

Your mother started a little conversation, asking you a few things about your job, D.C., and about Aaron. It wasn’t long before that conversation turned into your mother going on about the town gossip. How Claire that you went to high school with was married and had two kids with her highschool sweetheart, how they still lived down the road from their parents. You loved yours, but you could not fathom staying in the same zip code as them as an adult. She told you about her hairdresser and how “Bless her heart, she’s new, so she doesn’t quite know what I like yet.”

At some point during the conversation, your dad had made his way inside, his cup of coffee gone as well. It was when you made the realization that your boyfriend was now left alone with your dad that the door opened, both men walking out and heading down the porch steps. 

“Where are you guys going?” you asked, trying to hide the concern in your voice.

“I’m just going to show him around the farm,” your dad said, but there was a glint in his eye that told you he was going to do much more. Aaron looked back at you with a look that screamed help me and was perhaps the most boyish you had seen him in your relationship. As much as you wanted, you couldn’t really do anything, so you watched them walk down the gravel drive toward the barn and said a silent prayer that your father wasn’t planning on killing a federal agent. 

--

“And this right here is my 57’ Thunderbird. I don’t take her out much, only on special occasions.” Curtis had been showing Hotch around the barn for about thirty minutes, telling him all about how it worked, how the hay was kept in the loft which had holes to the feeding troughs in each stall. He seemed the picture of calm, but Hotch could tell he was just waiting for the right moment to talk about the elephant in the room. The older man turned to Hotch, and he expected it to be then that he asked him why the hell he was messing with his daughter.

“You ever rode a horse, Aaron?”

He was taken aback by the question. He had been prepared for anything - for accusations, for an interrogation, for some kind of psychoanalysis, but this…

“No, I haven’t,” he replied hesitantly. “Why are you asking me this.”

“Because you are going to ride a horse today, boy.” 

Hotch had decided that this was worse than any kind of interrogation he was expecting from your father. No, this had to be some kind of divine punishment for a wrongdoing he couldn’t fathom. He should have been offended that your dad called him “boy.” He hadn’t been called that in decades. 

Curtis had already left him by the vintage car and was walking toward a section of the barn to the side with concrete floors. One half looked to be open stalls for grooming, and the other side was filled with saddles, blankets, different ropes and metal chains. He had no idea what was used for what, and part of him was terrified your dad had a murder weapon hidden amongst everything. What should have been the trim by the ceiling was covered with award ribbons of various colors, but an overwhelming amount seemed to be blue. Upon further inspection, it looked as though they were organized by year. The wall closest to the stables held a corkboard with no more room for pictures or trinkets. Tickets and newspaper clippings covered each other, a cluster of memories dating back to around the same time as the ribbons on the wall.

“How much did she tell you? About all this?” Curtis asked, motioning to the board and ribbons.

“She would bring it up sometimes. Always fondly. She told me the family showed livestock and raced horses.”

Curtis crossed his arms, an almost sad sense of nostalgia filling his tone. “Not so much anymore. It’s not as big as it used to be, and I’m getting a little old for hog-tying a calf.”

Hotch found himself laughing, a little surprised he actually cracked a joke.

“There was one time we were in Montana for a case. We were in the middle of nowhere in the mountains, and the local police helping us were all on horses for our search. She joined them like it was nothing. One of our coworkers asked why she never told us she could ride, and she just smiled and said we never asked.” The more Aaron thought about it, the more he realized in that instance you sounded a bit like your dad. He could see now why you put up with his dry sense of humor, and why you had a bit of it too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you today,” Curtis started, grabbing a saddle. It was an older one compared to the shiny, brighter ones displayed on the wall. This one was still a deep reddish brown but had discoloration in the most well-loved spots. Decorative etchings lined the leather, and silver pieces whose design was near flat adorned places where leathers met. Curtis handed him the saddle, picking up a blanket and a few other roped materials for the horse.

The two walked back into the stabled area, and Curtis stopped at one of the few stalls that actually had a horse inside. “Now most of them go out in the pasture, but Ole Handsome here likes his solitude.” The horse was like salt and pepper, a white sprinkled throughout with gray and black. It was hard to tell exactly what was his color and what was dirt.

“Ole Handsome?” Hotch asked, raising a brow. 

“We got him when Y/N was about 15 I think. Even for a colt he was a scrawny little thing. Looked just pitiful, but she loved him. I started callin him Ole Handsome as a joke, and it just stuck. Now he fits the name.” 

It was an odd moment for Aaron, looking at this animal, a tangible piece of your past that you rarely shared. It made him smile just a bit.

Hotch stood back and watched as your father led the horse out of the stable, slipping the bridle onto the horse with an ease that showed that had both done it a million times before. He went along with the blanket, adding the saddle on top and tightening it with expert hands. Your dad looked back at Hotch, motioning him forward. He wasn’t going to admit it, but the fact that this creature was nearly as tall as him and could easily crush him scared the shit out of him. 

“Now what you’ll do is put your left foot in the stirrup, yup, that thing right there,” he pointed as Hotch followed his words. “Now grab a little bit of his mane.”

“His hair?” Aaron asked, unable to hide his shock. Was he trying to trick him? Would this horse not just bolt the moment he tugged on its hair?

“Well you don’t put all your damn weight on it,” Curtis said, motioning to the other side of the saddle. “You’re gonna hold on to that with your other hand and push yourself up with the stirrup. Holding the mane is just so you are holding on to something else. It ain’t gonna bother him if you pull just a little. It’s like brushing hair with a knot.”

Aaron was hesitant, but he gently placed his left hand on the horse’s mane, taking a fistful while trying to be gentle. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised by the texture. It was much more coarse and wiry than he had been expecting. “Don’t kill me,” he breathed to the horse before placing his other hand on the other side of the saddle and pushing himself up, swinging his leg over and finding the other stirrup.

Curtis looked half surprised, half impressed. “Wasn’t so hard, now was it?” he asked, taking the reins and pulling them in the front so he could lead the horse. “Now you’ll want to sit up straight when you’re riding. Put your hands on the pommel of the saddle. I’ll just walk him around a few circles so you’ll know how it feels.” He made a soft clicking sound with his mouth and gave a gentle tug on the reins, and Ole Handsome gave a snort before moving forward. The motion at first was a little jarring. Hotch felt like he had to fight to keep balance, though he attributed that more to his nerves than anything else. 

The motion of the saddle almost reminded him of ocean waves, a rocking that sent him forward and back. It was a rhythm that was jarring at first, but after a few circles became welcomed. 

“See, not so bad,” Curtis said. “Want to take it up to a trot?”

To be honest, Hotch didn’t know exactly what that entailed, but he was willing to try just about anything to win your dad’s favor. “Sure,” he said, finding himself holding on to the saddle a little bit tighter.

—

You and your mother had been watching the boys from inside the house as the two of you cleaned up breakfast. It started as fearful glances to the barn, making sure you still saw his figure standing by your father in the hopes that your dad hadn’t killed him and hid his body. You could see the two of them talking by your dad’s vintage car, but between drying a few dishes, they had left and weren’t in your eyesight. You were watching out of your own fear and anxiety, your mother was watching because she found it incredibly entertaining. 

You tried to tell yourself to calm down, that you were overthinking and working yourself up, and you did manage to calm down a little bit. You had fixed yourself a hot cup of tea and had joined your mother by the heater on the porch. It was upon sitting down in the rocking chair and looking into the barn that you saw your boyfriend riding your horse.

“Holy shit,” you said, not even bothering to censor yourself for your mother’s sake. “What the hell is dad doing?”

“Language,” your mother said with a pointed gaze, sipping on her second cup of coffee. “Evidently your father conned your poor boyfriend into getting on Ole Handsome. I’m just keeping an eye on the two of them.”

So much of you was terrified for Hotch, but part of you was shocked your father even managed to get him on, and another part was impressed because Aaron was actually doing well.

“Don’t look so scared. Your daddy won’t kill him, at least I don’t think,” your mother had said, moving back and forth in her rocking chair, a fuzzy blanket in her lap, covering her lower half. 

Later your father would swear that it was a barn mouse that scurried in front of your horse. You thought it was a little more intentional, but either way, something scared Ole Handsome, enough for your father to lose grip on the lead as he sprinted off towards the pasture, Aaron holding on surprisingly well. You practically skipped the steps of the porch in your haste, running through the barn to chase after the two. When you caught sight of Aaron, he was off the horse, pulling himself up from the ground, dusting off an arm of his jacket. 

“Are you okay? I just saw Handsome bolt,” you said, taking him by the shoulder and looking him over.

He brushed your hand off, somehow having good spirits about the whole thing. Did he get a concussion? What seemed to shock you the most was that he actually started laughing.

It took him a moment to actually stop laughing, and you could have sworn you saw a tear in the corner of his eye. “In all my career, I’ve been shot at, I’ve gotten my ass kicked, I have been in multiple car chases and accidents, but nothing has scared me as much as when that thing started to run.”

You heard your dad’s jogging footsteps behind you, calling out, “You okay, Aaron?”

Hotch gave him a breathless thumbs up. “Never been better, Mr. L/N.”

And you had never heard a more obvious lie. Yesterday’s snow had mostly melted away by then, but you knew it was still cold. The ground was still frozen and hard, and Hotch was sure to have a mark wherever he landed. 

“Y’all go on inside. I’ll go fetch Handsome before he tears down one of my damn fences again,” your father said, giving Hotch a quick pat on his arm, the one you hoped he didn’t fall on. “I gotta admit, you did a hell of a lot better than I thought you would.”

Aaron gave a little half laugh, something between finding a genuine humor in the situation and not knowing what else to do. “Thanks,” he said. You could hear the edge of a question in his voice, something that told you he wasn’t quite sure if he meant it or not. As the two of you walked back, your arm locked with his, you reassured him that your dad wasn’t one to give out compliments. Hotch joked and asked if that was considered a compliment, and you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face.

“In his own little way, yeah. And right now we are going to take what we can get.”

--

You took care of Hotch for the rest of the day, coddled him really. He tried to tell you that he was fine, that it didn’t hurt more than anything he had gotten on the job.  You pointedly told him that was a terrible scale considering most of the BAU had been shot at some point in their career. He only agreed a little, but you think he enjoyed the peace the day brought after his hectic morning.

The two of you sat on the couch most of the day, curled up against each other with a blanket as you kept the Hallmark channel on. Your mom joined for one of the movies considering these were her favorite things to watch during the holiday season. You may have inherited a love for their cheesy, cliche nature from her. Meanwhile, Aaron would point out plot inconsistencies or try to psychoanalyze the characters. You would throw a piece of popcorn at his face when he would, rolling your eyes and saying, “Aaron, babe, these movies aren’t supposed to be that serious. Now shut up and watch the successful journalist find her true love from high school in her hometown coffee shop.” 

You weren’t sure what movie you were on when you dozed off, your head on Aaron’s shoulder and his arm around you as he suffered through the cheesy movie you weren’t awake to watch. Your mother had gone to bed not too long ago. You were beginning to nod back into reality, and you noticed your side was colder than before, whatever body heat Aaron had given you was gone with him. You were starting to tune into a conversation in the kitchen.

“You really want to help out? 5:00a.m. I want you up and ready by then. I’ve got to feed the animals, and one of the fences needs repair.”

Was your dad really trying to get Aaron to help around the farm? You started to stir on the couch which quickly hushed both voices. When you looked up, Aaron was taking steps toward you. 

“Sorry if I woke you. The couch was starting to kill my back a little. Maybe an actual bed would be better to rest on after getting thrown off a horse.”

You gave a soft nod, still half asleep. “Yeah. Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding towards your dad in the kitchen, “early morning tomorrow.”

--

Aaron was no stranger to waking up early, though he hadn’t exactly planned on getting up that early during his time off. It’s okay, this is all for her. Just get him to tolerate you, he told himself. Your dad didn’t need to become his biggest fan. He just needed to see that he cared for you. And if that meant getting up before the sun and shoveling frozen shit in the snow, he would do it.

--

Five in the morning came much sooner than Aaron wanted it to. The sun wasn’t even up, so he found himself yawning much more than he would have cared for. At the very least, his new purchases would come into use. When he went out into town the day before, he did stop by the grocery store for flowers and coffee, but he also stopped by one of the stores that were tailored for western and work wear. The amount he spent buying work boots, cowboy boots, even a high-quality hat…Rossi would have laughed in his face if he ever found out. 

He pulled on the steel-toed boots, a slick design that he at least could find a way to style later. He didn’t want to drop nearly $200 on shoes he was just buying to appeal to your parents - he already did that with more traditional boots. Hotch pulled his puffer jacket a little closer and made his way to the porch where Curtis was already sitting with a cup of coffee. Of course.

As he opened the screen door, Curtis looked down at his watch, raising a brow. “Couple minutes late, but to be honest I thought you would have slept through morning chores,” he said, his eyes finally meeting Hotch and looking him up and down.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Curtis asked, his eyes specifically pointed down at his shoes. Well shit, Hotch thought, these clearly weren’t the right boots.

“They are work boots…with the steel toe,” he said, tapping the porch with the end of his boot.

“They are Blundstones,” Curtis said bluntly.

What did that even mean? “Is that not good?”

“Well for one, that’s the cleanest work boot I’ve ever seen. Second, Blundstones are what the frilly boys down in Houston wear when they want to look the part. Any real worker is wearing Ariat or Carhartt. Simple as that.”

Yes, the hierarchy of work boots. Simple as that.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Let’s get to work.”

It had snowed when they arrived, and though most of it had left yesterday, sometime during the night it started again. There wasn’t much on the ground, but it was still falling. He figured they would have a decent bit by the time you and your mother were up. While it was still relatively dark outside, the whiteness of the snow seemed to give just a little more light.

“First order of business, it’s cold enough that the top of the water in the horse’s trough might be frozen,” he continued on as he handed Aaron some kind of metal rod and gloves, “Just break it and get the chunks of ice out for them. Once that is done, you can get the feed out of this bucket here. Two scoops should do the trick, and if the goat that hangs out with the horses cries for more, don’t listen.”

Aaron followed the orders dutifully, feeling like he was back in training when he first joined the FBI. Sure enough, like Curtis said, the water at the top was frozen, but it didn’t take much to break it apart, tossing the glass-looking shards of ice to the side. He turned the buckets over, ridding them of the snow that had accumulated during the night and started to fill them with food. He had only put one scoop in when he heard a sound like thunder, a group of horses making their way to the edge of the fence, crunching snow beneath them. A little goat, white as the snow and with stumps on his head where it looked like horns should have been, followed right behind them.

Hotch continued to fill the buckets, putting two scoops in like Curtis had said. The horses had started to eat, and when he approached the last one, the goat seemed to be waiting patiently like some well-trained golden retriever. He placed the two scoops in and turned to leave, stopping only when he heard a loud bleating sound from the goat. 

“I’m not giving you anymore,” he said dryly.

The goat bleated again. 

“No.”

It cried again, an awful wavering sound with a touch of an attitude behind it.

“For God’s-”

“Hotchner, are you yelling at the damn goat?” Curtis called from the barn.

“No, sir,” he called back, his jaw setting as he looked back at the animal. “No more food,” he whispered, walking back towards the barn.

Curtis was already putting gloves on, a roll of barbed wire by his side. He handed Hotch a shovel and what looked to be a metal fence post. “Handsome wasn’t very kind to my fence after he threw you off yesterday,” he muttered, though he seemed rather unphased by it all. The more he spent time on the farm, the more he wondered how anyone could see these animals normally. Yeah, the five-foot-tall, nine-hundred-pound thing running and ripping your fence out of the ground is pretty normal.

The two men walked along the fencing and frozen ground, soon enough coming up to the post and wire that needed replacing. Even with the gloves, Hotch’s hands were freezing. The kind of cold where it almost feels like they are burning. “Let’s get this over with so we can go inside and get some coffee,” Aaron said, earning a raised brow from your father.

“Chickening out already?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well then get to diggin’.”

The ground was much harder to break than he thought it would be, but the physical work at least warmed him up a little. After a few hard strikes with the shovel, he finally had enough depth to where he could push the post in securely. Once the post was in, repairing the fence didn’t take long. Curtis connected it to the rest of the fencing and checked the stability before he called it a day and said the two of them should head inside. 

Hotch was happy to take off his coat and start brewing the coffee. The sun was just starting to appear, though it seemed that neither you or your mother were up yet. Curtis walked into the kitchen, grabbing a cup for himself. “You know, Aaron, I’ve got a confession to make.”

Whatever followed those words was never good. “Okay.”

“Usually I don’t make guests do farm work like that, you know. But after seeing you get on that horse yesterday…I kinda just wanted to see how far you would go. You seemed committed to trying to impress me, so I thought it would be fun to test it, and I believe I was right.”

Hotch leaned against the counter for a moment, listening to the coffee maker groan as the pot filled with the steaming liquid he hoped would get him through the conversation to come. “And? Are you impressed?”

“I suppose for a fed I shouldn’t be surprised by your dedication. I guess what I am still trying to figure out is why an older man like yourself, with a son, would want someone like my daughter. The answers to those questions are never something a dad wants to hear, but you can figure why I wanna know. Not to mention that you are her boss, and I won’t have you screwing up her career. I hate not to have her home, but that job makes her proud, and I won’t have you fuckin’ it up for her.”

Aaron didn’t want to admit it, but all of those were valid points. The optics of your relationship were…questionable at best. He knew that the moment you started your relationship. It was still something kept on the down low, even though you were practically living together. No one else in the BAU knew…except Rossi. He knew Hotch a little too well and connected the dots. And he caught the two of you having dinner out one night. Being aware of the faults didn’t get rid of the inherent power dynamics, though. Aaron was in a position of power over you, and the thought that you could have felt pressured at all made him sick.

“I know there is not much I can do about our age differences or the fact that she works under me, but I want you to know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for your daughter, Mr. L/N. If need be, I have paperwork ready for a transfer. I would rather lose my job than lose her.”

It was the first time Hotch saw genuine shock cross Curtis’s face. “So you have actually thought about this?”

“I have…a lot. And I know that your daughter makes me the happiest I have ever been, and I hope I do the same for her. It’s why I got up this early on my time off to help, it’s why I agreed to ride that stupid horse and not complain when he threw me off. It’s why I dropped nearly $700 dollars on boots and a hat.” That last part kept the shock on Curtis’s face. “I did it because you are important to her, so I wanted you to like me.”

Curtis seemed to process all that he said, crossing his arms and starting to quietly fix his cup of coffee. Was he just going to leave the conversation there? He could see a slight rise and drop in his shoulders as he fixed the drink, and it took Hotch a little too long to realize he was laughing at him. 

“You’ve gotta be some special kind of stupid if you thought spending that much money on boots and a hat was gonna make me like you more. You really are a fed…but you’re alright, I reckon.”

He was alright. It was much better than any other outcome that has run through his head. “Thank you, sir.”

“Ah, now don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m still not exactly fond of your relationship…but you make her happy, and it’s pretty clear she’s doing the same for you.”

In the end, that was all that mattered to Hotch. That you were happy, and that he was the reason.

—

Like the morning before. You woke up more from the sun being in your eyes than your body telling you to wake up. The snow made the reflection of the sun much brighter. You groaned as you made your way out of bed, throwing on sweatpants and walking into the kitchen to find a sight you never thought possible.

Aaron and your dad were in the kitchen. They had both borrowed your mother’s aprons and were in the process of finishing up making breakfast. 

“Did Hell freeze over while I was asleep?” you asked, unable to hide just how baffled you were at the sight. You were sure your dad hated him.

“Sweetie, sometimes Christmas miracles do happen. Best not balk at them,” your dad joked. Aaron just gave a shrug that said something along the lines of “take what you can get.” Most of the food was already on the table and ready, the sunflowers Aaron had given your mother yesterday were in a vase at the center.

The spread on the table was a lot like the day before. Eggs, bacon, grits, and all the fixings. What was new, though, was the addition of pancakes that seemed to have something in them. “Are those pancakes with pecans?” you asked, a little more excited than you meant to sound.

“Just for you,” Aaron added, placing the bottle of maple syrup by them. The two of you would often make these at either of your apartments, usually listening to The Beatles’ white album from front to back. Sometimes you would even catch Aaron using the whisk as a microphone when he thought you weren’t looking.

You couldn’t help the feeling of peace that a breakfast like this gave you. Having your parents there reminded you of when you were a kid, but the kind of domesticity that was Aaron Hotchner making pancakes with a stupid apron was something that just couldn’t be replicated. It was simple, but it was perhaps what made you happiest.

After breakfast, you decided to take Aaron out for a walk, wanting to see how he was holding up with the pressure of your father. Selfishly, you also wanted to see if maybe he was thinking the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

The snow under your feet was near perfect. Fluffy, not too frozen or mixed too much with water that hadn’t turned to snow. Each step it crunched under your boot with a satisfying sound. You forgot how beautiful the farm looked in winter. Icicles dangled from the gutter of the barn and little beads of melting ice clung to the trees like they were ornaments. The sun was out and heating up the land just a little to start to melt the snowy landscape, but for this moment it gave a bright sheen to everything.

Somehow in this snowy place, Aaron looked even better. The sun gave his black hair the lightest hints of a ruddy brown. The cool, nippy air gave his cheeks and the tip of his nose a dusted red hue. You were sure the tips of his ears looked that way too, though you couldn’t see for his beanie. He looked softer, more at peace than the supervisory special agent you knew at the BAU. This wasn’t Hotch. This was Aaron. This was the man you had fallen in love with. Even in the cold, bundled up like this with him felt like home.

“You know, this is the perfect snow for building stuff,” you said casually, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Hm?” he raised a brow, seeming to wonder where you were going with this. You pulled away from his arm, leaning down and grabbing a handful of snow.

“You know, it’s perfect for snowmen and forts. When I was a kid I would make a snowman and then try and make snow farm animals,” you said, continuing to pack snow into a tight little unit. “Hey, Aaron?” you mused, waiting for him to look over before taking the compressed ball of snow and chucking it right at his face. It exploded right at his forehead, taking his beanie off. Flakes of snow clung to his hair, his eyebrows, his lashes. You could see a scowl starting to form on his face, and you were worried if you actually had hurt him or annoyed him. 

“You know, that was really immature of you,” he started, leaning down to pick up his beanie. You took a step forward, opening your mouth to apologize and instead having it filled with snow as Aaron launched some at your face. You took a step back, nearly losing your balance as you tried to spit out the cold. When you looked up, Aaron was doubled over, laughing and wiping the snow off his brow.

“Oh, that was a dirty move,” you said.

“I didn’t realize we were playing fair,” he said, breathless from his laughter, the clouds of his breath visible.

“We certainly aren’t now.” At the same time you both went for the ground, trying to craft an arsenal of snowballs as fast as you could. You were the first to throw, but he was quick on his feet and dodged, throwing one toward you and pelting you in the shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long this went on for, the two of you running around in the snow like little kids again. The way when you finally made it to his side, you tackled him to the ground. He rolled over, tossing snow in the air, in your face, in both your jackets. It was impractical, and childish, and stupid, and you hadn’t seen a smile this wide on his face in a long time.

--

The rest of the day was spent much like the day before, sitting at the television with the Hallmark channel going. It was sometime around 4:00 that Aaron spoke up and asked, “How long would it take you to get ready?”

You had an odd look on your face, your brows scrunched as you tried to understand what he could possibly have planned. “An hour, give or take a few minutes. Why?” 

He smiled a little, a curl of his lip that didn’t yet show his teeth. “Just get ready. Don’t be too fancy. Pants might be preferable,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving the couch. “I’ve got to get a shower before we go.”

You wanted to call after him ‘go where?” but he was already down the hall. He had that look in his eye, the one that showed up when he had a plan for a date night but didn’t want to tell you. Usually he was pretty bad at keeping secrets like that from you, but this time…you really had no clue what he had planned.

It wasn’t until a little over an hour later you sat in the kitchen, flipping through one of your mother’s worn cookbooks that you started to put the pieces together. You had dressed somewhat casually. Jeans, boots, and a nicer top, a jacket hanging on the chair beside you. When Hotch came out from the always, though, you weren’t sure whether you should laugh or find it a little hot.

At his feet were boots. Real boots with the pointed toe, though most of the design was hidden by his jeans. They were…different from the jeans he normally wore. A little tighter and actually showed off his ass a bit. You tried not to stare as he did a little spin, hands on his hip asking if you liked it. The belt buckle was huge, one you couldn’t tell the engraving of from this far away. His shirt was tucked into his jeans, a of type western-styled button-up, each button even up to the very top, done. And the cherry on top of it all was the cowboy hat. His fucking cowboy hat. White, clearly of well quality, and fitting him just right. You didn’t think cowboys were your type, but Hotch as one…you could get behind this.

Your silence seemed to worry him, though, as his face fell a little. “You don’t like it, do you?”

You shook your head, taking a few steps his way. “No, I like it,” you said and unbuttoned the top two buttons. “But now I love it.” You smiled against his lips as yours met his, lingering with your hands on his chest for a moment longer. “Should I even ask how much you spent on all of this?”

“When I let it slip to you dad, he compared me to a frilly Houston boy.”

“Oh, so what I’m hearing is I’ll be paying for food tonight?”

“Now, I never said that. Besides, if I have learned anything about your father, it’s that he liked tradition. So I will be paying, and driving, and dropping you off at a reasonable hour.”

You rolled your eyes a little, but you still had a smile on your face. Your dad and Hotch…you never actually thought the two of them would get along, but somehow he actually managed to win your dad over. Aaron wrapped your coat over your shoulders, your arm holding his as the two of you walked to the car. “Hey Aaron?” you mused, “Could you wear this a little more often?”

“Only for you - and only when we are far away from Virginia.” You gave your cowboy one more longing kiss before the two of you rode off into the night.

[keithisbae1]

SasuSaku Shoujo Week Day 3: Work Place

Note: Before you read this is a continuation of a drabble I wrote in 2022 which you can read here. I strongly recommend reading it first, hope you enjoy :D

~~~

“I take it you two want the usual?” Sasuke didn’t even have to get his notebook out for these two. Not with the number of times they’ve come to bother him on his shifts.

“Yup, and to catch up with our buddy of course.” Naruto patted the empty spot next to them, Sasuke rolled his eyes. “You can’t always expect me to sit down and chat. I need this job.”

“Just go on a break, I’m sure you haven’t had one yet.” Suigetsu gave a knowing grin and of course he was right. Sasuke preferred to work even during his break (not that he was allowed) so he was often told by the manager or one of his colleagues to go and have one.

He wanted to show his parents that he changed but everyone kept saying that didn’t mean to overwork himself.

“I’ll be right back.” He went up to the counter where Sakura was wishing the customer a good day smiling at them. Her smile instantly turned to a frown, and she stiffened once she saw him.

“Sakura, the regular for Naruto and Suigetsu… please.” Sakura gave him a look but didn’t say anything, just turned around to make their drinks in silence. No small talks or chatter. As soon as she was done, she gave the drinks to him and went to the till greeting another customer with a smile on her face.

As usual, she always gives him the cold shoulder.

“I’m taking my break.” It wasn’t like the store was busy now and they had their other colleague who was wiping the tables anyway. Sakura only nodded still taking the customer’s order as if to respond to him.

Not even looking his way, even Naruto and Suigetsu could feel the tension from where they were. 

“Geeze, what did you do to her?” Naruto asked once Sasuke placed their drinks on the table, he took the empty seat next to the blonde.

“Nothing.”

“You must have done something.”

“If I did, don’t you think I would have known and done something about it by now.” It was getting awkward to work alongside someone who wouldn’t even look at you. Sasuke knew Sakura hated him with the way she acted back in high school but at least she talked to him, annoyed him, and wouldn’t leave his side.

Sometimes though it didn’t even seem like she hated him, it was a back-and-forth type of banter which is why he was confused as to her change in attitude with him now. Their friends even teased about them flirting but Sakura would take it way too seriously and end up saying how much she ‘hated’ and couldn’t stand him. 

Now she was trying to avoid him like he had the plague. She wouldn’t look at him, acknowledge his existence or even talk. Still, he couldn’t force her to do anything.

“You sure there’s nothing you did? Like anything specific?” Suigetsu asked and Sasuke shrugged with his arms folded. He didn’t know why his two friends were trying to interrogate him, like he said if he knew what he done then he would have apologized and made up for it by now. Did they think he want this? He missed the Sakura from back then.

“There’s got to be something, I remember she wouldn’t leave you alone when we were teens. She always tried to get you into trouble with the teachers but then she would follow you everywhere like a puppy, it’s like she wanted your attention.” At hearing that Naruto had a light bulb moment. 

“That’s it!” Sasuke and Suigetsu jumped at the loud blonde.

“Sasuke you ARE a jerk!”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean think about it, Sakura was always around you when we were teens. Trying to get you to notice her and I mean you two were flirting a lot. She must have had a major crush on you, and you didn’t notice.”

“Idiot!” Sasuke couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I did ask her.”

“Jokingly, right?” Sasuke remained silent thinking back at the times he teased her. 

‘If you have a thing for me, you can just come out and say it. I like a girl who’s forward.’

‘Relax, I was only joking.’

‘Why you!’

‘I thought you said you didn’t have a thing for me?’

‘I… I don’t.’ 

“Were you ever serious when it came to her feelings, and did you even ask her on a date?” Suigetsu’s eyes followed to Naruto and back at Sasuke watching the exchange sipping his drink. Surely, he couldn’t be this stupid, right?

“I didn’t… she said she didn’t have any feelings for me. So, I took her word for it.”

“Are you dense?” It was Suigetsu that spoke this time. “I mean with your reputation, I wouldn’t blame her either Mr. heart breaker.”

“And you know those were just rumours, I never dated let alone made out or have sex.” 

The rumours around the school were that Uchiha Sasuke was a playboy. How that rumour ever came about he’ll never know but he also couldn’t blame other students for believing them.

He was Uchiha Sasuke the boy who broke any type of rule, steal things, and spent a lot of his parents’ money on unnecessary items. He was a classic spoilt brat who wanted attention from his parents when they gave it all to his older brother. Even if it was to get lectured. That was why now he was making it up by having a job and being sure to pay back everything. 

To apologise to anyone, he wronged or start a fight with, given the exception to some who deserved it like Zaku and his gang for beating up Sakura back then. Sasuke gladly took the punishment but would never dare apologise.

Again, he couldn’t blame everyone else for what they thought of him when he went about picking fights.

“And you think Sakura thought they were only rumours?” Naruto asked and again Sasuke had no answer, it was starting to make sense on why she hated his guts now. Suigetsu face planted on the table. 

“So that’s it huh? After everything between you two and you didn’t do anything? It’s no wonder she hates you now.”

“Okay! I get it,” Sasuke raised his hands in defeat and stole a glance at the girl who was smiling away. Whenever he was near, she was unhappy. Could it be she was trying to prevent herself from another heart break?

How can he prove he wasn’t like that?

“What exactly am I supposed to do to make it up to her then?” His two friends smirked.

“Ask her on a date!”

It was that simple. 

~~~

Every day for Sakura it felt like she was walking on eggshells. On the day she had met Sasuke at the coffee shop she had a vision of what happened in her dreams. Of Uchiha Sasuke asking to meet up with her again and thus the two get close and he asks her out on a date at the very same coffee shop.

Sakura had panicked and ended up cutting their conversation short by asking if they had a job vacancy here. Don’t ask her why, she wasn’t thinking. It did end up as a bonus though as Sakura was looking for a job and she loved working here. 

Until he came along asking for one, damn. That meant she was still at a risk of being asked out and everything in her dream coming true.

Once Sakura explained the dilemma to her friends, they all looked at her like she had grown two heads.

“Except this isn’t Sasuke the ‘bad delinquent boy’ or Sakura the ‘nerdy goody girl.’ You two are grown adults now. What’s so bad if you two do go out?” Ino couldn’t follow her logic, sure she understood now why she didn’t want to back then, but they weren’t teenagers anymore. 

So why was her friend getting so worked up about it. Sakura continued pacing back and forth in her room with her arms behind her back completely stressed.

“No, no you don’t get it! I thought he asked me out when we were in high school, but it was when were ADULTS! I can’t let this happen, not now!” And she continued to pace back and forth.

“Okay but again Sakura you DON’T have a reputation to lose anymore. You’re not the Sakura from back then and he’s not Sasuke from back then. So please explain what you have to lose if he asks you out?” 

“It’s the principle.” Was instead her reply, so she didn’t have a reason. If Ino didn’t know any better, she would have thought her friend was going insane.

“You know it’s your fault you’re in this mess to begin with.” Karin spoke not even looking at Sakura instead more focused on doing her nails. She and Tenten knew what was going to happen which is why they didn’t do anything. Besides Sakura was a smart girl, she should have known better.

“You tried too hard to get him to ‘hate’ you because you were paranoid if you didn’t do anything he would start liking you when that only ended up making him notice you. Do you have any idea how many times Suigetsu or Naruto tried to convince me to set you two on a blind date? It was exhausting dealing with them both, really, I should have gone along with their plan if it was meant to be.”

Sakura could only glare at Karin for saying that, but she supposed she should be thankful. Karin was close with Sasuke so if she did want to, she could have set them up but instead she respected her wishes and even helped get Naruto and Suigetsu off her case. 

And she did have a point, if instead she acted normal and didn’t give him any attention none of this would be happening.

Ah-ha! That was it!

“Karin, you’re a genius!” Uh oh, the three girls looked at each other and then looked back at Sakura. 

Yup, this was not going to end well… or was it?

And so, Sakura’s plan throughout work with Sasuke was to ignore him completely. If she did, he would get the hint that she wanted nothing to do with him and leave her be. Something which she should have done in school, but she’s learnt her lesson now.

Another successful day, Sakura thought to herself clocking out. She had said her goodbyes to her manager and was about to leave until she heard Sasuke calling her name and to wait up.

Sakura wondered what he could possibly want from her, I mean she would constantly ignore him. She waited by the door, they hadn’t even left the café curious, he was still in his uniform too. 

“I… I’m sorry for not acknowledging them before.” At that Sakura raised a brow confused at what he meant and was it her or was he turning red? Out of character Sasuke took hold of her hand staring at her intently with a blush on his face. 

“I… would you, like to go on a date with me?” And just like that Sakura’s whole world turned upside-down. Everything she had tried to avoid, trying to put him off her and the plan had failed completely.

She should have known better than to hear him out. 

And the worst part? Sakura didn’t have the heart to turn him down.

‘Dear Diary, Uchiha Sasuke asked me out today at the café and I said yes.’

Perhaps they were meant to be.